The Light In the Dark

by Craig A. Smith

  “Oh my God,” Joan says, “what a horrible thing to say.”

  “I agree,” Jim says, “and the sad thing is I’m not sure I would have been able to restrain myself if I were in that same situation.”

  “Sure you would have,” Joan says.

  “I’d like to think so,” Jim says as he takes a swig of beer, “but I don’t know for sure. The way he beat that kid I had no choice but to arrest him. It was pure pent-up rage he released on that kid. I told him that he needed to take time off and I feel partly responsible for not forcing him to take leave in the first place. Then to top that off, I had to speak to the press about the murders with that experience fresh on my mind.”

  “Are you going to fire him?” Joan asks.

  “Hell yes,” Jim says, “for P.R. sake alone it would be impossible to bring him back. I would never get re-elected again. But the future is the least of my worries right now. It’s just sad the way everything went down, his kid passing away tonight and all.”

  “Bless him,” Joan says as she rubs Jim’s shoulder to try and calm him down a bit.

  “None of this would have happened had he taken some time off,” Jim says, “this job is high stress enough when everything is going well.”

  “You should follow your own advice,” Joan says, “I’m going to call and invite my parents down tomorrow and you had better not skip out on me again.”

  “Not a chance,” Jim says, “after the day I’ve had I could use a day off.”

  “Do you promise me?” Joan asks.

  “I can honestly promise you that I am not going anywhere tomorrow,” Jim says.

  “Good,” Joan says as she strokes his chest, “Did anyone give you an update on the condition of the child?”

  “He’s dead honey… did you miss that part?” Flanigan asks, perplexed.

  “No,” Joan responds, “the other one, the one that Ryan beat up.”

  “Sorry, my mind is bouncing everywhere right now. He’s going to be fine as far as I know,” Jim says, “the doctor told us that he has a concussion. I am going to have to finish the interview when I get some time. I imagine that he won’t want to say anything to us based on his previous encounter anyways.”

  “Are you going to get someone to help you on the Butcher case now that you’ve lost Hugh?” Joan asks.

  “Quite the contrary my dear,” Jim says, “now I have to take his caseload until someone else can come in or he is off of administrative leave. Tom couldn’t handle anything like this and my other deputies handle all of the day-to-day stuff. Ryan was a plan to groom my replacement when it was all said and done. I guess that I can make some phone calls, but I can’t do anything until everything with him is settled. Now I have twice as much work on top of everything else. These kids escaped from a mental hospital and I have to do door-to-doors with the local parents and have to talk to outside agencies to get the information from the others.”

  “I’m so sorry Jim,” Joan says.

  “That’s why I came in so late tonight,” Jim says, “I had planned to come home early. I went to the north side of town to talk to one of the kids parents tonight. Let me tell you… that experience was so draining that I almost lost it and felt like hitting a man.”

  “For a man like you to want to hit somebody it must’ve been bad, you have the patience of a statue. What happened?” Joan asks.

  “Well,” Jim says, “I’ll make it short; I went by the house to interview the parents of one of the kids. They were these arrogant aristocrats and they could have cared less that there son was missing. The kid’s dad was the most arrogant and annoying little man I have met in quite some time, I wanted to punch his lights out. I mean this guy treated me like I knew absolutely nothing about my job and he was the intellectual giant that would help me, the clueless and intellectually inferior cop, finally catch the Butcher. He was this older yuppie-looking psychiatrist that told me that if he were involved in the Butcher case that it would have been solved by now and he even had the nerve to ask me if I knew what sadism was.”

  Joan begins laughing, she laughs so hard that she falls off of the bed. Jim rolls over to check on her, she is still laughing.

  “Are you okay honey?” Jim says and gets no response other than more intense laughter. Jim starts laughing as well; Joan starts kicking her legs until she finally exhausts herself and can laugh no longer. She climbs back on to the bed.

  “I’m sorry honey,” she says.

  “What in the hell was so funny?” Jim asks.

  “That whole situation,” Joan chuckles.

  “Great, so you are laughing at my horrible night,” Jim says, “I can fall down a flight of stairs if you are looking for an encore.”

  “I guess that makes me a sadist,” Joan says as she begins laughing again. Jim rolls over on top of her and holds her down.

  “Let me up,” she says, “you know that I can’t stand when you do that to me.”

  “Touché,” Jim says with a jokingly fake yuppie accent, “Seriously though, you do know that you are my saving grace, right?”

  “Oh yes I do James Edward Flanigan,” she says with a smile, “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you and lucky for you, you are the best thing that ever happened to me.” Jim turns off the light and ends one of the worst days in his career on a positive note, making love to the only woman in the world with the ability to intentionally ignite his passion on an unintended whim.

  C

  hapter 18

  It is nighttime at the hospital and the police officer outside of Tyrone’s room is becoming tired. He peeks down the hall at a vending machine full of snacks and another full of beverages. He opens Tyrone’s door and finds him lying asleep in his bed, an empty McDonald’s bag and cup are laying on his nightstand. He decides that it will be okay to leave him for a minute to run and grab a snack down the hall.

  Unbeknownst to him, a woman is sitting in the waiting room and has been watching him for more than an hour. She is a very petite woman with long, blond hair and is dressed rather conservatively. She gets up out of her chair and nonchalantly makes her way towards Tyrone’s room once the officer makes it to the end of the hallway. She softly opens the door and walks into his room, shutting the door behind her. She notices a pillow lying on a chair next to Tyrone’s bed. She picks up the pillow and sits down in the chair, watching Tyrone breathe. She sits for a moment and stares at him. Tyrone rolls over and sees the woman sitting next to the bed. He wonders if he is dreaming; he has never seen this woman before. Half- awake, he rubs his eyes and tries to get a better look at her, but the room is too dark. The only thing he can see is a woman sitting in the chair.

  “Who are you?” he asks. Her hands grip the pillow with purpose. “Who are you, a nurse or something?” he asks. The woman jumps off of her chair and pounces on him, pushing the pillow into his face with a mighty force that you would not expect from such a small woman. He tries to push her off of him, but his weakened body cannot fight her off. He puts his hands around her wrists, but he cannot pull them or the pillow away from his face. His legs kick aimlessly in the air; her face has a look of angry determination as she tries to hold the pillow in place. With every passing second, his legs kick with less intensity. He tries to punch her, but the strikes that do land have no power behind them. He makes an attempt to roll her off of him, but it doesn’t work. He reaches out to find something to strike her with, but his coordination is poor due to his lack of oxygen. He stretches his hand out enough to try to grab his I.V. stand, but he cannot get a grip on it and it clangs off of the floor. The police officer, who has made his way back to his post and is enjoying a cup of coffee, is immediately alerted when he hears the clang in the room. He opens the door and peeks inside to find the woman lying on top of Tyrone, whose body has gone completely limp. He drops the coffee and runs to the bed, tackling the lady and ripping her off of Tyrone’s body.

  Tyrone gasps for air as the police officer wrestles with the woman on the floor. She reaches for t
he officer’s gun, but is unsuccessful in getting it. She begins to claw at him like a wild animal; scratching at his face and his neck until he is forced to get off of her. She makes a run for the door, but the officer trips her onto the ground and pulls out his taser.

  “Move and I will tase you!” the officer screams. She stops for a second and then attempts to sprint to the door. He fires the taser and a series of probes fire directly into the middle of her back, causing her to immediately fall to the floor. She screams in pain as the officer pulls the trigger, her body grotesquely convulsing. He lets go of the trigger.

  “Do not move or I will tase you again ma’am,” the officer orders. She rolls over onto her back and looks up at him, tears running down her face.

  “Are we done here?” the officer asks as the lights come on and a group of nurses burst into the room. She nods her head in affirmation and the officer holds his position. Tyrone slowly sits up, taking in the chaos.

  “YOU!” she roars, looking Tyrone directly in the eye with utter disdain, “you are the reason that my husband wasn’t there to say goodbye to our son today. I have nothing left but a dead son and a husband without a career. I hope you burn in hell!” Tyrone finally realizes who this strange woman is.

  “If you say another word to this young man, I will tase you again,” the officer says.

  A security guard and another police officer make their way into the room as Mrs. Hugh begins to wail.

  “Thank God you are here,” the officer says to his backup, “If you would, please take the probes out of her and read her rights.”

  “What am I booking her on?” the backup officer asks.

  “First degree assault, resisting arrest with force and battery on a police officer,” the officer says. The backup officer puts the woman in handcuffs and rolls her over to remove the probes from her back. He reads Mrs. Hugh her Miranda rights and picks her up off of the floor. She looks back at Tyrone with anger as she is escorted from the room.

  “Wait!” Tyrone yells as the backup officer stops.

  “I just want to let you know that I am sorry lady,” Tyrone says, “I know that it ain’t right what I said to your husband and I didn’t mean what I said.” Mrs. Hugh looks at Tyrone coldly and doesn’t respond to his apology as she is taken out of the room. A nurse checks on Tyrone as the police officer sits down in the chair next to him.

  “Are you okay young man?” the officer asks.

  “Yes sir,” Tyrone says as the nurse exits the room.

  “Get some rest,” the officer says as he gets up from the chair, “don’t worry about anything other than getting some sleep. If you need me, I will be right outside of your room.” The police officer turns out the light and opens the door.

  “Hold up,” Tyrone says. The officer stops, holding the door.

  “Yeah,” the officer says, “what do you need?”

  “They never left town,” Tyrone says.

  “Who never left town? What are you talking about?” the officer asks.

  “The kids that I came up here with, they never left town,” Tyrone says. “That Sheriff is looking for them. I don’t know where they’re at or how to find them, but I’m pretty sure that they never left. Can you tell him?”

  “I’ll tell him,” the officer says, “now get some rest.” Tyrone nods at the officer as he shuts the door.

  Chapter

  19

  David Wayne Bell is drinking a glass of vodka on the rocks in a shabby bar just outside of Lexington. The tunes of Jimmy Buffet fill the musty air as the couple sitting next to him at the bar get up and make their way to the dance floor. He watches them as they drunkenly flail around and grind each other. He turns his attention back to his drink and slowly stirs the ice around with his finger. This is his third glass of vodka; usually it takes at least five for him to catch any kind of a buzz. The bartender makes his way to David, who is now the only person sitting at the bar.

  “Can I get you another one sir?” the bartender asks.

  “Sure,” David says as he finishes the other half of his drink in one long swig, “I could use another.” He watches the woman on the dance floor slip and fall on her rear. Her mate, in attempt to help her up falls on the floor as well and they both begin to laugh uncontrollably. A burlesque biker comes into the bar and stands next to David. The bartender hands David his drink and looks at the husky, tattoo-laden biker.

  “What can I get for you Tim?” the bartender asks.

  “The usual Danny,” Tim says, “actually… give me two; I’m waitin’ on a buddy.” The bartender gives Tim two longnecks and the biker then makes his way over to a pool table, where he begins racking the balls. David takes a drink and stares at the television, which is playing a muted version of the Country Music Channel. A tall, thin man with a moustache and bandana makes his way through the front door and sees Tim waiting, cue in hand. David is perplexed by the size of a man, who is at least 6’5 but couldn’t weigh over 150 pounds.

  “STEVE!” Tim yells as he hugs the man and hands him a beer, “let’s get it going brother.” David watches the men shoot pool for a minute. Steve walks over to the jukebox and back to the table. Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Gimme Three Steps begins booming through the blown speakers of the bar. Steve begins to play air guitar and motions for Tim to follow him into the bathroom. David stares at the door, wondering what they might be doing in there together. He takes another drink and looks back at the couple on the dance floor. The fast paced rhythm of the music creates a strange scene, as he watches them slow dance while making out. A beautiful young, scantily-dressed girl enters the bar and immediately captures the full attention of David. He is shocked by the appearance of the young woman, as she is the closest resemblance to Janet that he has ever seen. Many times when he had been on the hunt before, he had closely recognized vague resemblances that would bring him back to that morning long ago. But this girl could literally been mistaken for his love thirty years ago. His heart pounds as he watches her walk up and lean onto the bar. The bartender comes back over.

  “Hey Hannah,” the bartender says. David looks at the girl and is amazed that she is old enough to be in such a place.

  “Hey Danny,” she says, “Has my daddy been in here tonight?”

  “Yeah,” he says while re-stocking beer, “he’s in the bathroom… should be out in a minute.” Hannah sits on the barstool next to David. She gives him a flirty smile, which he reciprocates.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before,” Hannah says to David, “Are you from these parts?”

  “Yeah,” David says, “but I haven’t been in this place too many times.”

  “You’re kinda cute,” Hannah says, “you remind me of that guy on TV.”

  “Which guy is that?” David asks.

  “I can’t remember,” Hannah says as she runs her hand through David’s hair, “but he is cute.”

  “Do you do crystal?” she asks.

  “What do you mean?” David asks.

  “Crystal meth,” she says as she strokes his hair.

  “Never have before,” David says, “Why, should I?”

  “Yeah,” she says, “it’s so much fun.” A hand comes from over David’s shoulder and pulls Hannah away from him. It is Steve, who must have finally made his way out of the bathroom.

  “Go and sit next to Tim,” he tells the teenage girl. Hannah walks over to Tim and sits down. Steve stares at David with bloodshot eyes.

  “She ain’t for you fella,” Steve says to David as he sniffs. Traces of cocaine surround his flaring nostrils as he looks at David with anger. “Keep to yourself and we’ll be fine tonight boy,” he warns as he walks back over to Tim and Hannah. David casually turns away and begins drinking again. He glances back over his shoulder and sees her father hand her a hundred dollar bill. He looks at the dance floor, which is now empty.

  “Are you ready for another one?” the bartender asks.

  “Sure,” David says as he looks up at the television. The bartender pours anoth
er glass as David sneaks a peek back over at Hannah, who gives him a wink. He quickly turns back around and takes the drink from the bartender. He spins the ice around in the glass and looks back up at the television. His mind is going in circles, trying to figure out how to get Hannah out of the bar and into his basement.

  “DAVID!” a man yells from the door. David is disappointed to see Fred Palumbo, one of the biggest rednecks in Pine County and David’s rival contractor making his way to the bar. Fred is a man’s man, a throwback outlaw with a fu Manchu, long black hair, a working man’s tan, rodeo belt buckle and a pair of expensive snakeskin boots. This is horrible for David; he hadn’t given his name to anyone in the bar. He never gives his name in a place like this and if he does it is usually a fake one. If someone from church saw him inside of a bar, they would be unlikely to say anything because they would be embarrassed to be seen in such a place as well. Churches are different; he is comfortable in such places and attends regularly and gives great excuses such as missionary work when it is noticed that he has missed. The more involved you are in a church or a community organization, the less likely you would be considered on a list of names in a murder investigation. A student of other serial killers, that is why David became a bit paranoid when BTK was caught; although he was impressed with his ability to get away with it for so long, their standings in their respective communities were eerily similar. But BTK was desperate for publicity and pretty much handed himself to the police, something David would never do. Fred sits down next to David at the bar.

  “Hey David,” Fred says as he takes off his cowboy hat and tosses it on the bar.

  “How are you doing Fred?” David asks.

  “Coors light,” Fred says to the bartender as he turns to David, “Hell I’m fine ole boy, how bout you?”

  “I’m living,” David says as he takes a drink. Fred looks at David’s glass and appears perplexed.