A Critical Tangent

by Reily Garrett

  It never failed to surprise him how a person could be numb with frustration and liquor one minute, then wide awake with terror the next. He loved it when his assignments were women. Men weren’t near as much fun.

  Her sixth sense never warned her of the danger from behind, or that her world would forever change.

  He stepped up and covered her mouth and nose with the moist cloth while his arm banded her back against his chest.

  She was stronger than anticipated and fought like a demon. Hope of her gasping in the sickly sweet drug died a quick death when she twisted her head to the side.

  At the same time, she contorted her body and slammed her fist into his groin.

  “Motherfucker. Not gonna happen,” she gasped, then stumbled sideways. Shaking her head, she darted toward the head of the trail, back toward the frat house.

  The cloth fell to the ground when he doubled over in pain. “Bitch. You’ll pay for that.”

  “Fuck you.”

  It took him three strides to catch her, dealing with pain and his own adrenaline rush. In any other circumstance, he’d give her a sporting chance, a ten-second head start. However, his boss was adamant about getting the job done with as few witnesses as possible.

  She’d just inhaled to scream when he tackled her to the ground and knocked her out the good old-fashioned way. The interrupted cry hadn’t drawn any apparent attention. It seemed fate favored him after all.

  He couldn’t afford to screw the pooch now. Tossing her over his shoulder, Porter backtracked and found the useless cloth while vowing to not underestimate her again.

  Replacing the drugged material in his baggie allowed him his first deep breath. He repositioned her for the considerable walk in the opposite direction. His mini flash, once away from the buildings, helped him pick out fallen logs and avoid grabbing late-season briars. Considering her slight stature and his anticipated fun, he didn’t mind the extra work.

  It wasn’t until he’d made it halfway to his truck that he realized he’d forgotten to pick up her phone. I’ll send someone back to get it and the cameras.

  The remote cabin greeted him like a long lost lover. Flashbacks of previous escapades flitted through Porter’s mental catalogue and ramped up his heartbeat.

  Soon.

  His quarry lay tethered on the backseat, not knowing she’d never leave the woods. Perhaps he’d situate her grave looking out over the valley below. After all, brunettes should stick together.

  Her soon-to-be grave mates had been a little older, but nonetheless shared a common denominator. They were all beautiful. He’d reserved a section for the crème de la crème.

  It’d been too many months since he’d last visited the area and his secluded hideaway. It was his greatest source of pride and home to his masterpieces. Each picture in his treasured scrapbook animated memories and details of a life well lived, and in vivid splashes of reds and creams.

  Once inside, he secured her in a comfortable room in the hidden basement. If his handling generated more than a slight concussion, there might be complications. The information his boss expected was sophisticated and specific. After relaying it, he could spend the next several weeks enjoying her screams during both pain and orgasm.

  Their initial conversation would set the tone for the convoluted relationship to follow. While she slept, he took great care in preparing comfort food and setting the scene.

  The space had to engender the right atmosphere. The bedding was clean and smelled like the fabric softener he remembered as a kid. Thick padding and shag carpet covered the cement floor and complemented the light gray block walls where several posters of popular bands added a bit of personality. A scented air freshener helped negate the slight musty odor from the windowless space. If it mimicked a 70s style horror film, well, that’s when he’d first learned his nature.

  She’d soon learn to appreciate this room over the two others, each intended for a different purpose.

  What kid didn’t like ham and cheese sandwiches with a cup of cold milk? Paper plates and plastic cups decreased the likelihood of fashioning a weapon. His groin still throbbed with the echoes of her earlier strike.

  Setting the tray on the end table bolted to the floor, he smiled in anticipation. In the armoire, an array of lingerie and form-fitting dresses would give her the option of changing clothes, all caught on tape by his concealed cameras.

  Waiting for her to awaken proved a challenge since he was anxious to begin matching wits. When she groaned and her eyelids fluttered, she surveyed the room and sucked in a breath. He hadn’t used the bed’s attached cuffs yet, wanting to make a good first impression.

  “Evening. How’s the head feeling? I left you some acetaminophen by the glass of water. It’s still in the foil packet.”

  Let the games begin.

  “You kidnap me then give me pain medicine? Why?”

  He loved the confusion written in her brow. In a few hours, he’d magnify it ten-fold.

  “My goal is to extract information, not hurt you. We’re going to be partners.”

  “If your intent including releasing me, you’d be wearing a mask so I can’t identify you later.”

  “I don’t like the way they feel. Sides, we’re so far from your school, and I’ll drug you before taking you back. You’ll never know how many state lines we’ve crossed, much less find this place again. I’m good at flying under the radar. If you accept my offer of partnership, everybody’s happy.”

  “You don’t lack for confidence, do you?”

  Porter shrugged. “If I discover you’ve talked later on, I’ll just find you again, but with a more, shall we say, permanent outcome. Understand?”

  She nodded then sat up in bed. Her voice held none of the tremor shaking her fingers. Gabby was smart, but he didn’t know if she was clever.

  “You’re pre-med. Quite the chemistry student.”

  “Following in my father’s footsteps.”

  “Wonderful. He must be so proud. Actually, I was referring to your other studies. The sideline involving chemistry.”

  She looked away as she ripped the foil and took the tablets. After setting the water aside, she closed her eyes, the small head shake equal to self-chastisement. Did she wonder if he’d drugged the water?

  Too late!

  He could see the wheels of her mind forming different scenarios and strategies for her desired outcome. Survival.

  To help ease her obvious anxiety, he decided directness might serve his purpose. “I know you’ve been working on perfecting Serenity. Your version has less side effects, and I want the formula. Give it to me and we’re done.”

  A virtual mask slid over her face to cover parted lips and stiffening spine. Increased pallor of her cheeks remained another testament to her distress.

  To add incentive for cooperation, he stood and let his bulk multiply the potential hazards of her situation. Instead of locking the door, he’d left the wooden planked barrier to freedom ajar.

  A test.

  Her focus swung toward the exit as he ambled around the end of her bed and rested his hand on the ornate, iron-slatted footboard. She wouldn’t know all the wonderful uses for those precious bars.

  “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant. As a matter of fact, for the correct answer, you’ll receive a reward. Surely more than your boss would provide. Oh, and I’d like some information on your partner, Keiki.”

  That snapped her attention upright, before her hands clenched the bedspread.

  “All I wanted is a less toxic drug. Kids are going to take them anyway. The least I can do is make it safer for them.”

  “Exactly. Me too. We both want the same thing.” Including her in his goal equaled another step in securing her cooperation. “Hell, you can even supply your friends at no charge.”

  She bit her lip, indecision written in the drumming of her fingers against her jean-clad thighs. “I don’t have the recipe in my head. I’ve been working with someone.”

  “Keiki? Your best
friend?” He smiled his shark smile. “Yeah, I know something about your buddies.”

  “No, not Keiki. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “Oh, but I beg to differ. As a matter of fact, I’m just learning how valuable she can be. She doesn’t know it yet, nor does she know her future role in our company.”

  “You murdered Shelly.”

  “That wasn’t personal. It was a message to her father for dealing drugs in a territory he doesn’t own. On the flip side, his use of technology is innovative and kinda cute. I can, however, offer protection for your help.” This had all the markings of one of his best games.

  “It felt personal to me.” She again visually inspected the room before her gaze settled on one of the cuffs peeking out from the foot of the bed. A silent moment allowed her to formulate false assumptions and possible outcomes.

  “All right. But I work in tandem with a professor. He’s the intermediary and keeps my notes.”

  “Well, that does sound enticing. Who’s the professor?” He should have known the matter would get complicated.

  “His name is Bayler. He has a lab in the basement of his house.”

  “I’ll bet it’s not as nice as what you have here…”

  “It has exits that aren’t blocked.”

  “Tell you what. I’m going to bring down enough food for a late dinner and all day tomorrow. I’ll be back before breakfast Monday morning.” Porter offered his most benign smile.

  “Are you going to kill him?”

  “Why bother? All I want is the formula. I don’t care if he shares it with the world.”

  Wariness and suspicion radiated from every pore of her body. In the end, hope won over both. She shrugged a faked indifference.

  “Before I go, however…” It was time to sample the goods and see how many orgasms he could force from her body.

  Video setup in the corner provided a subtle future threat and would remind her to keep her mouth shut.

  Back on campus, he smiled at the memory of her shocked expression. It’d taken longer than expected to coerce her arousal but worth it in the end. No doubt the drugged water helped ease the way.

  A quick search for the lost cell phone yielded no result, but he did retrieve the small cameras near the frat house.

  The memories warmed him inside. His latest acquisition had been exquisite in her righteous anger, which gave way to screams of release before tears of humiliation had taken hold.

  A bit of research provided background on his next prey, Professor Bayler. His newest plaything had divulged the whereabouts of specific records in hopes of sparing her mentor’s life.

  How sweet. She would’ve made a compassionate doctor.

  Karma was a fickle bitch, giving with one hand while taking away with the other. Bayler hadn’t been home when he arrived to retrieve the prized data, which was great. On the flip side, hope for an easy recovery was dashed after scrutinizing the isolated home.

  It would have been preferable to collect the research without leaving evidence of his visit. The boss’ planned takeover involved minimal violence after the shock of the Harock kid’s death. Instead, he’d missed collecting the tech kid and now couldn’t pick a lock.

  Figures the man would have bars over his basement window but not those on the first floor. Real genius here.

  Careful study of the surrounding area revealed no other homes close by to hear the breaking glass.

  He hoped Bayler was smart enough to not have an alarm system. It wouldn’t do to have cops rummaging through his basement.

  Once inside, he smiled. The inhabitant enjoyed a modest home with a few nice creature comforts. If there’d been more time, he would’ve relaxed and enjoyed the gigantic TV and a beer from the fridge.

  Limited moonlight filtered through the home’s surrounding trees, yet he didn’t need to switch on any fixtures. The bungalow had an open floor plan with a doorway leading downstairs off the kitchen.

  Initial efforts to locate specific notes ended in curses and dire threats. This was supposed to be an easy assignment. Expectations crumbled under current observations. The bitch lied. He’d suspected she had, but hadn’t wanted to take out his anger without proof.

  The basement consisted of concrete walls and floor, two tables of various beakers, a grocery list, notes without formulae, and a half-eaten sandwich.

  Nothing resembled the typed document containing his prize. It was possible the professor decided to double cross his partner. The amateurs had no clue of the scope or significance of their product.

  A thorough search of the home from basement to attic revealed no safe or secret nook with hidden material. In anger, he snatched several pictures off the living room wall and smashed their frames against the TV.

  He understood impulse control issues, but having to confront the professor face to face meant another body. His boss would not be happy.

  In hopes of appeasing whatever forces set against him, he returned to the basement and tucked the sheath of notes in his waistband. He’d never been called a genius, but knew they didn’t contain his sought-after prize.

  The man was a chem professor, which meant he maintained a lab at school. That would be the focus of his next search.

  The crunch of tires on gravel alerted him to a vehicle’s approach. Confronting the professor here was not optimal. No, the best scenario entailed catching him at work and carrying out a quick snatch and grab.

  With his head filled with thoughts of malice, he exited the back as a key turned the front door lock.

  Simple deception would buy him some time with his boss. After his return trip through the woods, he took snapshots of the stolen papers and sent a text to his boss while his car warmed up.

  If by some miracle it was useful, so much the better. Otherwise, he’d at least bought an extension. Luck would see Bayler accusing the student for ransacking his home. The slightest paranoia should force the man to check on the formula. The task now became a matter of follow and observe.

  The return text complimented him on a job well done and notice of a hefty bonus. Paper records delivered the next day would allow for another potential pat on the back.

  His cell buzzed halfway back to the school, the smile on his face falling away with his boss’s text.

  “Just examined the formula. This is not complete!” Theo maintained a zero tolerance for incompetence.

  Failure didn’t bode well for his future. “I’ve still got the girl. I’ll question her again and get back to you tonight.”

  Sudden silence left Porter with no doubts, he would soon follow Shelly Harock in death if he failed again.

  It was feasible the professor had moved things after Shelly’s death, or his prisoner liked games. So be it, he’d show her how much fun they could be.

  First, he’d sit on the professor’s office and hope paranoia overrode a working relationship.

  Chapter Five

  Keiki put one hand on her hip and grumbled when the stout, bald detective refused to sit and talk, instead standing as if expecting a barrage of insults.

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, but we have no new leads to follow. It doesn’t mean we’re closing the case, but until something pops up on our radar, we have no direction. You’re gonna have to be patient.”

  Keiki launched herself at the taller man, pounding his chest then aiming for his face. “You promised to find who killed my parents! You’re a useless pig!”

  Tears choked her words and her thoughts. Her mom and dad would never cross the threshold again and lend their wisdom to her ventures, never offer a smile when she needed it most, and never hug her like she was their world.

  The combination of hate and disparity knocked her legs from beneath her, sending her crumbling to the floor.

  Keiki opened one eye at a time in hopes of dampening the force of morning light spearing her brain. The room lurched sideways and her head felt heavy until reality crawled inside with a dull ache.

  Hunched over the kitc
hen table, she straightened and rubbed her eyes. The same nightmare haunted her dreams and waking moments.

  The project she’d worked on last night lay in pieces across the rustic wood she and her dad had lovingly restored and finished to a fine sheen. She’d reclaimed the planks from an old barn and worked while her father instructed and watched. Her dad’s shop was gone, but his skill would live through her forever.

  At times when grief overwhelmed her, she remembered the odor of freshly cut boards and the brief smell of alcohol before the shellac dried on a finished stool or cabinet. Her mother often brought out a cup of tea or cocoa and sit to watch, suggesting possibilities for future projects.

  Stuck to her left forearm was a piece of a drone’s undercarriage she’d been working on late into the night—before falling asleep.

  Her roommate still hadn’t returned, nor did she answer her phone now. Last night’s text stating she’d stay overnight at the frat house meant sleeping in and dragging herself home around lunchtime.

  It made no sense that the evening news hadn’t detailed Shelly’s murder. The cops had been at the scene and had to know Shelly’s identity.

  She didn’t know what to do and had nobody else in which to confide. Her voice would choke if she spoke with either of Shelly’s parents, people who considered her family.

  Despite the nausea churning her stomach, she snagged a few pieces of colored candy from the baggie kept on the table. Shelly said chocolate made everything better.

  The second drone she’d used to spy on the police had given her a grainy glimpse of her best friend’s body lying on the patch of ground tended with loving care along with the detective aiming his gun at her mechanical child.

  Without a hint of why anyone would target her friend, she had nothing to offer the cops in the way of motive or suspects. Her short piece of video included a man wearing a mask and speaking with a thick accent.

  A recorded snippet sent to her second part-time employer, Nick Tucker, produced no match yet from the biometric database including voiceprints. By not sending more than a few sentences, she intended to keep Nick out of the investigation.