Forgive Me, Alex

by Lane Diamond

  "What does that mean, together?"

  "Together, like a king and queen, like a couple."

  "Oh my God, you are crazy! How can you think I'll be with you after what you've done? You kidnapped me and you keep me tied-up and gagged." She shook her head. "You make me watch your sick shit while you torture people to death!"

  "That's what makes it special. That's what makes us special."

  She spit, "You sick bastard! Leave me alone! I'm in love with Tony." She jumped up, the top blanket barely covering her, and yelled, "I could never be with you. You're the most evil, twisted, monstrous human being I've ever known, or ever heard of. You're disgusting!"

  I clenched my fists and shook my head. "No, don't talk like that. It's not true. You and I will be royalty. That's what the Reaper told me."

  "The Reaper doesn't exist, you sick monster. It's a voice in your stupid head. You're deluded. Don't touch me, you sonuvabitch!"

  The grinding of my teeth made my head hurt. She didn't understand, and the way she spoke to me and called me vile names made me want to hurt her.

  "You're my angel and my queen, so I'll forgive you for what you said, but you have to come around to my way of thinking. We will be together."

  "No we won't. Leave me alone, you evil bastard!" She lashed out at me and tried to run.

  I grabbed her and slammed her down onto the blankets. "That's how you want it, bitch? That works for me. I can play rough."

  I undressed in front of her, in between knocking her back down to the floor, and jumped on top of her. I grabbed her arms and held them off to the side, but she was strong for a girl. I slapped her hard across the face and she froze for a second and cried. Then she grabbed at me again, so I slapped her harder.

  She'd definitely bruise after that one.

  She yelled again, but it didn't matter a fuckin' bit. Nobody would here anything.

  I struggled to position myself over her as she continued to fight. The bitch wouldn't lie still and accept it!

  "Enough!" I got off her and yanked the knife from the sheath on my belt. When I held it against her throat, she froze. "Do you want to die? Is that it, bitch? Sit still or I'll cut your fuckin' throat!"

  She pressed her throat against the blade. "I don't give a shit! You'll kill me no matter what I do, and I can't take any more of your shit, you twisted sonuvabitch!"

  "I'll have my way with you, bitch!"

  She laughed and pointed at my dick, which had gone soft during the struggle. "Not with that limp little noodle, you won't."

  That's not fuckin' funny! "You don't think so? We'll see about that."

  I knocked her back down and grabbed the ropes to tie her up. I didn't gag her; I wanted her to scream. I'd show her who was boss. I tied her arms to the post on the side of the shed, and her right leg too. I tied her left leg to the table, leaving her legs spread wide.

  "Hoo-wee-mama, time to have some fun and show you who's in charge."

  She thrust her chin out. "Poor little baby with the tiny little limp dick. You sick fuck! You couldn't get it up if you sucked it yourself! Ooh, I bet you'd like that, you little tiny limp-dick motherfucker! You're a sick, impotent, puny-dick bastard!"

  "Shut up! You hear me, you ugly bitch? What do you think of this?"

  I gave her the same treatment I gave Jacque-Baby.

  She squirmed, but spit more poison at me. "What's the matter, poor little baby? Is your tiny little baby-boy's-dick so soft and useless that you have to use your fingers?"

  "I'm warning you, bitch, if you keep that shit up I'll make you pay."

  "Fuck you, puny little limp-dick faggot! You're a faggot, aren't you? With a teensy-weensy tiny baby boy's limp dick! I probably wouldn't even feel it."

  "You fucking bitch!" I lashed out with the knife and ripped open her arm in a gush of blood. "What do you think of that, bitch?"

  She screamed and her tears poured out. Now she knew who was in charge.

  "Go ahead and finish it, you little faggot," she yelled. "You know that teeny little limp dick of yours will never work again, so finish it!"

  "Shut up!"

  I punched her hard in the face and she went limp. I tied a rag around her arm to keep it from bleeding all over the place, then gagged her to keep her quiet. The foul-mouthed bitch! I should have killed her.

  What had happened? Nothing was going according to plan, and the way she acted, she might never embrace being my queen.

  Her open legs were so inviting. Maybe now I'd have my way with her.

  "Fuck!"

  The lousy fuckin' bitch had me so wound-up that I couldn't do it!

  I had to get outta here and go somewhere I could think. Let her lie there, tied up naked without her blanket, until I came back tomorrow. That would teach her.

  I'd figure out what to do with her then.

  Chapter 49 – May 31, 1978: Mitchell Norton

  Last night had been extremely difficult. I'd hated having to work—too anxious to get back to the shop and determine how to handle Diana. That situation had gone terribly wrong. Besides, washing dishes for a living struck me as remarkably pedestrian and dull. How in the world had I put up with it for ten years? How long would the new Mitchell be able to put up with it?

  Yet last night, for all its anxieties, might have been a walk in the park compared to today.

  I received an unpleasant visit from the Chief of Police.

  How in the world had he connected me to anything? What mistakes had I made? I'd been careful to leave no fingerprints, and was sure nobody had seen me. I'd disposed of the bodies neatly, having learned from my mistake with Alex Hooper. Chop them into bite-sized pieces—only then would they vanish into the mouth of the Beast. My new friend had eaten well recently.

  Yet somehow, the chief had managed to get onto me. His questions were relatively innocent. He even acted like we were pals.

  I played it cool as I smiled and cooperated at every turn, shook my head in wonder, and tried to imagine anyone committing such horrible crimes.

  I did have one potential problem, however. If he looked inside the dryer, how would I explain those girl's clothes? I would improvise, of course. Fortunately, he didn't look.

  Mom might also have been surprised, but since it was typical for me to do my own laundry, she hadn't looked inside either. She did act nervous throughout the whole ordeal, however, as I'd been out of the house during the days in question.

  No worries. She played the good Mom and said nothing, then left for work, leaving the chief in my hands.

  He searched the house and asked me a few more questions. The subject of Flora Park came up, specifically the day all those damn high school kids were there. It was the day I'd discovered my angel.

  How the fuck does he know about that? "Flora Park? Sure, I remember. Geez, there must have been a hundred or more of them. That was unusual, the sort of thing I'd remember."

  "I see, and do you remember seeing Diana Gregario there?" he asked.

  He watched me closely, but I kept my wits. I wouldn't give anything away. "Diana who?"

  "Gregario?"

  "I have no idea. I don't even know who she is. I mean, I see plenty of girls there and admire them, you know. A lot of them are damn cute. Hey, I'm a normal, red-blooded American boy, right?" I gave him my biggest, best, awe shucks smile.

  "And were you admiring a girl that day?"

  "Let me think about that." I paused and gave it real reflection, all part of the show. "Now that you mention it, there was this one girl wearing yellow. Tommy and I both checked her out. She was a hot little number, you know, but way too young for me. I thought Tommy might like her, but he's not too into girls. He's a little... uh... a bit slow."

  "And that's it?"

  "What? About the girl?"

  He glared at me.

  I threw my hands up. "Yeah, we watched her for a couple minutes or so, and that was that. Are you telling me that someone saw me there and remembered me? How do they know me? I don't know any of those kids."
I shrugged. "At least I don't think I do."

  He hesitated, but said, "Someone spotted you there and heard your brother call your name."

  What the fuck? That ain't right. "To tell you the truth, Tommy and I were quite a ways from those kids. I don't know how anyone could have heard my name, and I don't know anything about a Diana Gregario."

  "She was the girl in yellow."

  "Oh, I didn't know that. And now she's missing?"

  "That's right."

  "That's a shame, but what does that have to do with the poor boy who was murdered? I read about it—such a tragic story."

  He hesitated again.

  I was anxious, and curious about who might'a seen me.

  "I didn't say they were related," he said.

  "Oh. I must have misunderstood."

  He continued the search, and I thought about that day at the park. I'd pointed out Diana to Tommy. She'd been walking with Hooper and—

  Holy shit! They looked at us!

  Could he have recognized me? How? He didn't know me, and there sure as hell was no way he'd heard my name. Could it have been someone else? There was something damn strange about this.

  "You know, Chief, I've been thinking about that day at Flora Park. Besides the girl in yellow—uh, Diana—the only other person I saw—up close, anyway—was her boyfriend. Is he the one that remembered me? I'm pretty sure I don't know... uh.... What's his name?"

  His eyes flared—some suspicion there. I might have pushed it too far.

  Whatever. Had to be Hooper. Nobody else there paid any attention to us.

  We headed out to the shed in the back yard, and he broke his silence, this time with a smile and a polite tone of voice. "Do you ever go to the bowling alley in Carpentersville?"

  "Umm... sometimes." Fuck a rubber duck! Are you kidding me? "What does that have to do with anything?"

  "Were you there the night of May 27?"

  "Four days ago?" I put a hand on my chin and scrunched up my eyes, to look like I was trying real hard to remember. "Let me think about that."

  Hooper saw me again? And he remembered me? How the fuck is that possible? Does the bastard have a photographic memory or what?

  "Geez, I might'a been, Chief. Think I was, actually. I go there occasionally to bowl two or three lines and have a few beers."

  "And were you admiring the girls there too? Perhaps Diana Gregario?"

  "What, the same girl as at the park? Hell, I don't know. There are kids there all the time, and if this Diana was among them, I didn't notice. Maybe she wore something different. I don't know. I was just minding my own business." Son of a whore, this is bad! "What the hell is this about, anyway? Has someone accused me of something?"

  He hesitated.

  "Come on, Chief, if some guy is accusing me of something, I have a right to know who he is."

  "Some guy?"

  "Well... someone's trying to pin something on me! Was it that guy she was with at the park? Her boyfriend?"

  "I'm merely following up on some open questions, Mr. Norton."

  Bullshit! We'll have to see about that. "This is all crap, Chief. And what does any of it have to do with that kid who was killed? What was his name? Let's see... I read about it in the paper. Harper? Hopper?"

  "His name was Alex Hooper."

  "That's it! Hooper. Okay, so what does any of this crap about—What's her name? Diana?—what's she have to do with this Hooper kid? And what does any of it have to do with me?"

  His jaw muscles were pumping on the sides of his head. "I'm here to obtain a few answers regarding your whereabouts on the days in question. If you'll help me out with that, we can move on."

  "Whatever. I already told you, and I'm tired of this bullshit."

  I showed the proper amount of indignation and impatience, making clear that this was too much to put up with for a voting, tax-paying, law-abiding citizen—well, two out of three weren't bad.

  He must have gotten the picture; he apologized for the intrusion and the inconvenience, and then left. He'd found nothing, and unless I missed my guess, he weren't gonna be botherin' me no more.

  That fuckin' Hooper was a different matter.

  How in the world had he gotten onto me? How did he know I'd been the one, the same man, at the park and the bowling alley?

  I needed time to think about this, but I mustn't be too hasty—didn't want to raise any more suspicion. I'd need to be especially careful and watchful from here on in.

  A word from the Reaper would have been nice.

  Where has he been?

  Chapter 50 – May 31, 1978: Tony Hooper

  Diana, my Diana, what would I do without you? I am but a drop of rain in the storm of your existence, yet I long to fill the oceans of your soul. I am but a wave upon the sea of your imagination, yet I long to roll gently upon your mind. I am but a footprint upon the beach of your desire, yet I long to walk forever in your heart. You are my living world, my paradise on Earth. Without you, I am but a glimmering mirage in the distant, endless desert.

  ~~~~~

  Back in school Wednesday, I daydreamed and doodled my way through the hours. I hoped Diana would read my latest mind-burst at some point. I thought only of her.

  Schoolwork was out.

  I shouldn't let it go this close to graduation, or so I told myself. I didn't much give a damn—couldn't fight the guilt of being here while Diana was somewhere in the clutches of Norton... assuming she was still alive. My heart told me that if she were already dead, I'd have known it. Illogical, but it was my lifeline, kept me from drowning.

  If Diana came through safely—she must come through this—surely the school would make allowances for her, given the circumstances, and permit her to make up the work she'd missed. One more reason for me to worry.

  My few close friends had been a small comfort, approaching me to lend their moral support and offer assistance. Tom Coronado had offered to take up arms and help me "hunt down the bastard and shoot his fucking eyes out." I'd assured him that the police were making progress. I hoped that was an accurate statement.

  Most of the kids looked at me strangely, unsure what to say, and therefore saying nothing at all. Everyone knew about Alex, and now they knew about Diana too.

  Life in a small town.

  The Dean, Mr. Kozlowski, who was also my Calculus teacher, called me into his office to "check on me." He wanted to ensure that I'd suffer no more lost time, given that I'd missed the two previous days, and three days last week during the ordeal with Alex.

  I told him I'd do my best, but that a little more lost time was still a possibility.

  He said he'd speak to my other teachers about it, and that they'd make accommodations, but that there was a limit. Currently third in the class, I'd finish between second and fifth, and he wanted me to finish my best, whatever the circumstances.

  I thanked him and reassured him of my best efforts.

  The seven-hour school day lasted about twelve days. Classes finally ended, and I kept my head down, avoided eye contact, and spoke to nobody as I walked to my car. I had neither the time nor patience to deal with more condolences.

  I remained hopeful that the police would be onto Norton by now. I intended to stop in and see Chief Radlon on my way home. My boss had agreed to give me some time off from work, which I couldn't afford, but Frank had slipped me a hundred dollars last night without my asking or even hinting at it. That would keep my old Bonnie in gas. Good old Frank.

  Just hang in there, Diana. Please, Sweetie, we'll be coming for you soon.

  Cops zipped around the station in a frenzied state, wound tighter than usual. Kidnapping and murder occurred once every generation in Algonquin, if that. The chief was speaking with one man and one woman, who appeared official despite their plain clothes.

  "Hello there, Mr. Hooper," the desk sergeant said.

  "Hello, Sergeant Harker. Please, call me Tony."

  "That will be fine, Tony. I suppose you're here to speak with the chief."

&nbs
p; "Yes ma'am."

  "If you don't mind having a seat and waiting, I'll let him know you're here. I know he'll want to speak with you, but he's a little busy dealing with those big shots from D.C."

  "Washington, D.C.?"

  "They're from Virginia, but close enough. Those are our friends from the FBI."

  The way she emphasized the word friends, I got the distinct impression that if they'd asked her for the time, she'd have told them to go spit.

  "What brings the FBI to little old Algonquin?"

  "I'll let the chief handle that one. Why don't you have a seat for the time being?" She returned to her work, clearly signaling the end of the conversation.

  The chief spotted me, gave me a nod, and held up his index finger as if to say, one minute. He was probably accustomed to a lot less activity around here, though he struck me as someone who knew his business. He was young for his position, perhaps in his early forties. I'd always thought a Chief of Police should be in his late fifties or early sixties, perhaps because TV always portrayed them that way.

  The minutes dragged on and my anxiety grew exponentially.

  The chief walked out of an office and marched in my direction. I glanced at my watch to see that I'd been waiting for.... Good heavens, it's only been ten minutes.

  I stood as he approached.

  "Hello, Tony, I wasn't expecting you today, was I? Or have I forgotten?" He shook his head, more to himself than to me. "That wouldn't surprise me at this point."

  Remember, Tony, be careful not to let slip any secrets. "No, sir, I didn't have an appointment or anything. Sorry about that. I can see you're busy, but I was wondering if there's been any progress with the investigation, especially about that guy in the van, Mitchell. I'm going crazy not knowing about Diana."

  "Tony, I'm afraid I can't discuss an ongoing investigation. The only thing I can tell you, I suppose, is that we have no word of Diana yet. You'll have to be patient."

  I was sick and damned tired of hearing that.

  "Excuse me a moment, Tony."

  He walked to a man in plain clothes, one of the FBI agents, who'd motioned him over. The agent held our high school yearbook and pointed at something inside, and then looked at me. The chief nodded and they exchanged a few words.