by John Inman
“I can get past the back fence with it, no problem,” Danny said. “I just don’t know how far it will let me go once I get there.”
“Let’s leave it on until it goes red, then rip it off and run like rabbits.”
“Blithely irrational. Without a lick of sense. Falls apart under pressure. Cuter than a bug’s ear. I guess that’s why I love you.”
“Can the cops track you with it on?”
“Sure,” Danny said. “But not if we rip it off. Of course, if we do rip it off, that’ll bring the cops here in a red-hot minute.”
“Maybe it will let you go farther past the fence than you think.”
“Maybe.”
“Or we can remove it now and take our chances. What do you think?”
Danny stood there looking down at his foot like it was the first time he had ever noticed he had one. He hemmed and hawed around for about ten seconds, then finally made a decision. If you want to call it that. “Let’s leave it on and hope for the best. No, let’s don’t. Yeah, let’s do. No, let’s not. Oh, God, let me think.”
Luke nodded, like he expected nothing less. “Fanatically indecisive. Unwaveringly irresolute. Has a really big dick. Guess that’s why I love you.”
“The big dick doesn’t really help us much in the current circumstances though, does it?”
“No,” Luke said. “But it’ll certainly come in handy later.”
“If we survive.”
“Well, yeah. If we survive.”
Luke finally made the decision for both of them. “Fuck it. Let’s just go. Leave the damn monitor alone for now. If it goes red, then we’ll decide what to do about it.”
Danny locked the door behind them, slid the jangly house keys into his pocket, and got a good grip on the baseball bat. Like Babe Ruth climbing into the batter’s box.
“Oy. God help us all,” Danny mumbled.
“And a bigass amen to that,” Luke mumbled right back, knowing he looked ridiculous lugging a hammer around like some insane carpenter.
And after all that, the rescue mission finally got underway. Such as it was.
Chapter 13
IT WAS no surprise to anybody when DeVon led his little troop of amateur ninjas straight into the backyard, around the edge of Danny’s pool, and right up to the back fence separating Danny’s yard from Mr. Childers’s property. Having purposely left the outside lights off, it was so damn dark Danny couldn’t see his hand flapping around in front of his face. The wind was up too. It felt like rain, of all things. Danny squinted up at the sky and saw—nothing. No moon. No stars. Nothing. The heavens were buried in clouds. Big fat black ones. No wonder it felt like rain. One never really expects that in San Diego.
Of course, one never really expects to find a serial killer chopping people up on the other side of their back fence either. The world was packed full of surprises. Sort of like a piñata.
“I feel like an idiot,” Luke groused.
“You’ll get used to it,” Bradley chirped. “We did.”
Following DeVon and Bradley, with Luke sticking close to his side, Danny reluctantly ducked under the hibiscus plants, dragging his cast along behind him like an anchor. The plants were tall and fat and gave good cover. Under the bushes, it was even darker than it was out from under the bushes. And it was pretty dark out there. Once they were huddled in a group in the shadows, the only light they could see anywhere was the tiny green light blinking on Danny’s ankle. At least it was still green. Just the thought of that little light blinking red made Danny’s heart skip a beat. But the thought of what Charles Strickland might be going through at the hands of a homicidal maniac gave Danny the courage to keep going. That cute guy. Jeez, he’d already lost a finger. What other horrors had he been subjected to?
Danny was shocked back to reality by the feel of a hand sliding into his back pocket. Taking stock of his own appendages, he realized it wasn’t his. It was Luke, making contact, being there for him, drawing strength from Danny’s presence and giving back some of his own. Danny couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across his face. Even with all the creepy shit going on, he was really enjoying the heck out of being in love. He pulled Luke’s hand from his back pocket and pressed it to his lips. Then he stuffed it back into his pocket like a wallet. He liked feeling it there.
“Don’t worry,” Luke whispered, “I’ve got your back.”
“Oh, please,” Bradley hissed in the darkness, and DeVon giggled. “If you’ve got his back, can I have a wing?”
“I’m a breast man myself,” DeVon chimed in in a vicious little whisper. “Got any of those, Danielle?”
Good lord, Danny thought. DeVon and Bradley were already assholes and they were barely eleven years old. What would they be like when they were adults? Assuming they lived that long. And judging by tonight’s adventures, that was assuming a lot.
Then Danny wondered about more pressing matters. Like just how the four of them were going to quietly get over this six-foot-high fence. Especially when one of them had a broken leg.
“Everybody stay right here,” DeVon ordered, and the next thing Danny knew, the kid was gone. Just gone.
“Where the hell did he go?” Luke asked.
“Loose boards,” Bradley whispered, and Danny and Luke could see him in the darkness raising and lowering a three-board section of the fence for their benefit. Jeez, they had their own trapdoor into the viper’s nest. How disturbing was that? “Cool, huh?” Bradley grinned. “We’ll follow DeVon in as soon as he gives us an all-clear.”
“Can’t wait,” Luke droned.
Danny wanted to ask Bradley who died and made him boss, but he was afraid the little shit would snicker at him again. God, what a brat.
Before any of them had time to do any more worrying, the trapdoor in the fence popped up with a squeak and DeVon stuck his head through. He had to lie on his belly in the dirt to do it. It was so dark under the bushes, the only thing Danny could see of the kid’s dark-skinned face was the whites of his eyes and the flash of some really nice-looking choppers. “Coast is clear,” DeVon whispered. “Childers ain’t home and his car’s gone. We have to hurry if we’re going to search the place. God knows when he’ll be back.” He pulled his head back like a turtle and disappeared. The boards banged shut.
“Oh man,” Bradley groaned. “Oh man, oh man, oh man.” He sounded like he had lost his winning lottery ticket or his favorite grandmother had just kicked the bucket or he had suddenly found a syphilis canker on the end of his dingdong.
“What’s wrong?” Luke hissed. “What are you ‘oh manning’ about?”
Bradley grabbed Luke by the front of his T-shirt and pulled him close so his voice wouldn’t carry. “What if we’re too late? What if Childers already killed the poor guy and now he’s taking him somewhere to bury him? What if the finger in my pocket is the only part of Charlie Strickland anybody will ever see again? We’ll have to turn the finger over to his parents for burial. Holy shit. How they gonna like that, huh? And how are they gonna feel about the fact that I sprayed the only remaining chunk of their son with Glade so he wouldn’t stink up my pocket? Huh? How they gonna like that?”
“Well, we’ll deal with your concerns when the time comes,” Luke hissed right back, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Or laugh. Or puke. He wasn’t sure which. Danny seemed to be rendered speechless by what Bradley had just said, and who could blame him, Luke thought. Luke’s hand was still in Danny’s back pocket so he gave Danny’s ass a squeeze for reassurance. Felt nice. They both thought so. “Let’s just do it, okay?” Luke said, “Let’s just do it and get it over with. Strickland is fine, and we’re going to rescue him, just like we said we’d do. But DeVon is right too. Childers could come back any second, and I for one don’t want to be caught inside his house when he does.”
“At least you won’t be beating off in his underwear drawer,” Danny offered.
“True,” Luke agreed, leaning in and speaking so softly only Danny could hear. “But I’m
damned sure going to beat off all over you later.”
That seemed to perk Danny right up. He whispered right back, “Ooh. You promise?”
“I don’t know what you guys just said but I still think you’re both deeply disturbed,” Bradley commented drily, and then he dove under the loose boards and disappeared. Alice down the rabbit hole. The last they saw of Bradley was his nasty-ass tennis shoes sliding under the fence.
Danny looked at Luke in the dark. He couldn’t really see him, but he knew he was there because his hand was still in his pocket. “You ready?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’ll go first so you won’t kick me in the head with your cast. I’m beat up enough already.” His skinned ear and skinned elbow and skinned knee were all stinging like crazy, but he didn’t think now was the time to whine about it. “And don’t forget. Mrs. Trumball said help was on the way. I still don’t know what she meant by that.”
“Me neither. Maybe it was the gin talking. Or wishful thinking.”
“I hope not,” Luke said. He sounded like he meant it.
“Okay,” Danny said, giving Luke a quick kiss. He was aiming for his lips but in the dark he hit his nose. Close enough. “See you on the other side.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And fifteen seconds later there wasn’t a soul in Danny’s backyard. In fact, the only pair of eyes in attendance were the ones staring out through Danny’s kitchen window. It was Granger, sitting with his ass in the kitchen sink, trying to see where everyone had gone.
He was looking pretty desperate too, because he really, really had to pee.
Stupid humans.
THIS was the first time Danny had ever been on Mr. Childers’s property. It was a big lot, nicely maintained, with a ranch style house in the front, a two-car garage set at an angle behind the house, and a lot of southwestern style landscaping: sandy ground, succulents everywhere, wagon wheels propped up here and there, a terra cotta Mexican peasant snoozing under a ceramic sombrero that doubled as a bird bath. Tacky. There was also a cactus around every corner. And they were big.
“Yeeouch! Luke hissed. “Watch out for the cactus!”
Mr. Childers’s backyard was almost as dark as Danny’s, but not quite. The sandy soil was a lighter color than Danny’s grass, and even without moonlight, they could pretty well see where they were going.
Luke and Danny found DeVon and Bradley waiting for them at the corner of the garage.
“Jesus,” DeVon growled. “You finally decided to show up, huh? What were you doing? Smooching and declaring your undying love for each other under the fucking bushes?”
Bradley giggled. Luke and Danny ignored them both. Mostly because smooching and declaring their undying love for each other was exactly what they had been doing.
Danny looked down to make sure his ankle monitor was still green. It was. He knew he couldn’t go much farther before it switched to red and every cop in San Diego would be chasing after his ass.
DeVon pointed a finger toward the concrete apron leading into the garage. There was a big stain right in the middle of it which stood out clearly against the pale color of the driveway.
“See that? That’s blood,” DeVon whispered. “Childers didn’t even try to clean it up, the dumb shit. DNA evidence for the cops.”
Danny wasn’t convinced. If Childers was a serial killer and he chopped off some guy’s finger in the middle of his driveway, Danny couldn’t imagine the guy not hosing away the evidence pronto, or more to the point, doing the dastardly deed in a more secluded location to begin with. “Probably antifreeze,” he said.
And DeVon grumped, “Think what you like. I know better.”
Luke had been studying the terrain. The house was small and neat. One story. Every light in the place was off. Even the yard lights. The garage doors were closed up tight.
“How do you know his car is gone?” Luke asked.
DeVon pulled a small flashlight from his pants pocket. He grabbed Luke by his shirttail and dragged him toward a window in the side of the garage. As he shined the light through the glass, all four of them stuck their heads together and looked inside. The garage was empty except for the usual crap stored around the edges. Tools, boxes, washer and dryer. An old chifforobe. On the far side of the garage, in the space designed for a second car, Childers had set up a gym, with a Nautilus machine, a treadmill, a Bosu ball, and an old TV perched on an orange crate that he presumably used to watch exercise videos while he worked out.
No wonder the guy was such a hunk, both Danny and Luke thought. But they had the good sense not to say it in front of the kids or they’d never hear the end of it.
“See?” DeVon said. “No car.”
“And no cute blond kidnappee chained to the wall either,” Danny huffed with exasperation.
“Maybe he’s in the house,” Bradley said. He was chewing on a licorice stick again. Danny could smell it, and he could hear the kid gnawing on it like a cow ripping at a bale of hay.
“Or maybe he really is dead and Childers carted him off to get rid of the body,” Danny muttered.
Luke couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re not buying into all this, are you?” He turned on DeVon and demanded point blank, “If you don’t show me some real evidence in the next five seconds, I’m leaving, and I’m taking my easily hornswoggled lover with me.”
“Wow,” Bradley breathed, turning to DeVon. “They really are gay. Lovers, no less. You were right. I owe you fifty cents.”
They all jumped straight up into the air when the garage door suddenly started clattering up into the ceiling: squeaking, rattling, groaning. It sounded like it hadn’t been oiled for, like, eighty or ninety years.
As soon as the four of them finished executing their tandem leap of fear, they hunkered down against the wall of the garage and prayed to God they wouldn’t be discovered by whoever it was who had just opened that damned door. Except for the garage, there was nothing nearby to hide behind. If whoever it was decided to walk around the corner, there was no way they wouldn’t be spotted.
They waited for the sound of footsteps. Nothing. Then suddenly headlights swept across the fence behind them as a car turned in off the street. It rumbled straight up the driveway and steered into the garage while the four of them hunkered even lower. The radio was blasting disco music. Must be an oldie station, Danny thought. Disco music to Danny was somewhat akin to a guy in a powdered wig playing minuets on a clavichord. Ancient.
The motor and the radio went dead at the same moment. Two car doors squeaked open and they heard two pair of feet hitting the garage floor. One set of footfalls had a solid thump to them. The other set was kind of clicky and clacky. All four of them knew what that clicky-clacky sound meant. Whoever, the second person was, she was female, and she was wearing high heel shoes.
Their suspicions were confirmed when they heard a woman’s high-pitched squeal of laughter.
“Ooh, Mike,” the woman tittered. “You have a Bosu ball!” Danny didn’t think she sounded like a card-carrying member of Mensa. “Oh, and a medicine ball too! You must work out a lot.” And she tittered again. Bimbo city, Danny thought. He could feel Luke silently giggling beside him and flapping his wrist around in the air making fun of the poor broad.
They heard the boom of Mike Childers’s masculine voice crooning right back at her. “Let’s go in the house and I’ll give you a tour of the rest of my balls.”
The woman tittered again, and Danny couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t mind taking that tour himself. Beside him, Luke was laughing so hard he was practically peeing in his pants. His face was so red from trying to do it silently that Danny wondered if he was about to have a stroke.
Bradley was holding his hands over his mouth trying not to laugh too. DeVon was just looking mad. This turn of events was not one he expected at all. If Childers was straight, then how the hell could he be a gay serial killer?
Danny gathered up his courage and peeked through the gara
ge window. He saw Mr. Childers with his arm around a petite little thing in a miniskirt and stiletto heels, and from Danny’s viewpoint, it didn’t look like either one of them could keep their hands off the other.
Childers steered the woman through the garage door, hit a button on the wall as he passed, and the garage door started sliding back down behind them, still squeaking, rattling, and groaning, just like it had when it went up. As soon as the door banged shut, the garage light went out.
The four of them held their breath, still afraid Childers might for some ungodly reason peek around the corner of the garage and catch them lurking in the shadows. But their fears were for naught. The footsteps clattered up the walk to the back door of the house, mixed with the sounds of a few more feminine giggles and some sexy masculine cooing. It seemed Mr. Childers had some moves when it came to members of the opposite sex. They heard a tinkle of keys, the squeak of a door opening, and a second later the squeak and bang of a door closing.
The lovebirds were inside.
DeVon, Bradley, Danny, and Luke took that as a cue to breathe again.
But Luke was furious.
“I’m out of here. So is Danny. This guy isn’t a killer. And he never was one.”
Bradley scratched his head. “I’m not sure that sentence makes a whole lot of sense.”
Luke grabbed Danny’s arm and dragged him toward the back fence.
At that moment, they heard a cry that stopped them dead in their tracks. The cry did not come from inside Childers’s house. It didn’t come from his garage either. It came from somewhere else. All four of them seemed to be looking in different directions, trying to decide where the sound had actually originated.
A moment later, a sob could be heard. Just one short sob, then silence. Danny thought that truncated sob was absolutely the saddest sound he had ever heard in his life. Full of pain. Full of anguish. Full of terror. The way Luke’s arm came out to pull him close, he figured it must have had the same effect on Luke. Danny ignored the shivers skittering up his back like mice with little cold feet. The truth hit him like a 2-by-4 to the back of the head.