Nine
Mother's site still worked just fine. Every so often, Mother had come up with an idea worth using. Viscardine was one of them. It was a job listing for the right kind of people. That was what Mother called them; the right kind of people. Everyone who had been hired in her company had been hired from this site. The first interview was at ten, and the second one at eleven.
The doorbell rang and Jaspierre was ready. She was in black heels, a green suit, and her long brown wig. She looked sexy, but professional.
When she opened the door, she saw a short fat man. He had an erection almost peeking out his pants. Clearly, he was excited to be here.
"Your house is so goddamn fantastic. Marble floors. Holy shit."
They walked to the library and Jaspierre couldn't seem to find anything to say in reply. She sat at her desk and motioned him to sit.
He didn't, and stood there with his crotch even closer to eye level.
"So, your name is Jeffrey?" she said, staring at her papers.
"Oh yes, that is my first name. It's a formality. I go by my middle name."
"And what is your middle name?"
The man was staring about her room completely giddy, barely paying attention. "Oh yes. Uh, Russell. I'm Russell."
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." Her heart was suddenly pounding and she felt rage building faster than she could manage it.
"No, no, not kidding." He turned to look at her. "How much is the pay again?"
Before he could get another word out, the sword sliced through his shirt and into his throat. She yanked it out of him and stabbed him again in the heart. She held him there, pinned like a cocktail wiener, and pushed him away from her desk, dropping him on the floor a few feet away.
What a total bust. The doorbell rang. She pulled the sword from the man, not even bothering to wipe it off. She dragged it behind her as she walked sulking. The sword rattled across the floor behind her, leaving a thin trail of blood.
She opened the door and lifted her sword. "You are early. What is your name?" It was a command, not a question.
He stood there, his eyes staring at the blood-soaked blade.
"Your full name. All of it. Spit it fucking out or so help me." She stared into his green eyes.
"Dru Valentine Brummel."
She stared at him. He was tall. His hair was in a swirling mess. His eyes were a dark green color; he looked like he was in his early fifties.
"Do you need any help?" he asked, calmly looking at the blood dripping off the end of the blade.
"His name was Russell," she said to him.
He nodded. "Terrible name."
She broke out in a grin. "Welcome to your interview. Tell me about yourself."
They walked inside and Jaspierre took him through the kitchen, grabbing a few towels.
She wiped off the blade as he spoke.
"I have multiple degrees, I'm a specialty surgeon proficient in--"
She cut him off curtly. "It's your hobbies I am interested in."
"I like to take them apart and put them back together. I don't usually do it while they are alive. No reason to torture. That's not the point. It's so hard to learn without regular practice."
Jaspierre listened and put her sword back into the desk. "Put him in the fireplace."
Dru did, picking him up and tossing him in. "I'd rather we didn't burn him. He is still a valuable learning tool. I will burn him, if you want. But it's such a waste."
"Just put him in the fire."
He nodded and piled wood on the man's still warm body.
"Have you ever used a 3-D printer?"
"I have once. They aren't easy to get your hands on."
"I want you to finish my mother's work. She had an obsession, and I think you could do it with the resources I have. You'll have one month. You show me viable progress and I will let you continue. You'll stay here in the staff apartment. No other guests can come over. If you have a need for a hobby, you'll have to take it elsewhere. You wanna fuck, fuck in a hotel. No guests. None." She lit the match and the Russell went up with a woof. "Six figures. Three weeks off. Absolutely no communication to the world about what we are doing. This is for me. It is for Mother. But it is not for them."
"I'll mop the floors." And with that, Jaspierre had a mad scientist.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
After sorting through the evidence, it became clear that all of the hair found at the McCoy residence was Peter's. Peter had a shaggy long haircut last time he was seen, and by their recent estimate, he was either bald or had a buzz cut. They didn't know much else. Jessi went back to her own desk to work on her case, leaving a man patrolling the cabin. And Edward went back to his case, looking for Chance.
He found it particularly hard to focus on the serial killing cop when he knew that eight-year-old boy was stuck. He was stuck with the man who had created a serial killer. What if Peter was about to become another Chance? What if Jack was responsible for churning out serial killers, one after another? It was a nauseating thought. He just had to catch both of these monsters. He just had to. At least they thought the boy was still alive for now. It was good that he cut his hair and changed his clothes. He wanted to keep this kid. Probably for some horrible, terrible reason. But at least Peter was extremely likely to still be alive. For now.
He rolled around in his mind what he knew about Chance so far. Chance had mutilated and killed two people in his house. He killed numerous hookers in his old precinct. They thought he was going to make contact with Jack, either to kill him or team up with him. Nobody knew at this point if they had met up and were working together. There had to be some other reason why Chance came back to town. If only his aunt was still alive, she would almost certainly know what he was up to. How to find him, what kind of trouble he was in. Women always had an excellent intuition about that kind of thing. It was surprising how often a mother would rat out her child by sheer accident. By just talking, just knowing, just guessing.
Jessi walked up to his desk. "We think they're on foot," she said hurriedly. "We think they're walking around on foot! We don't think they got another car. Do you get what I'm saying? They're in the woods. They are wandering around in the woods right now!"
"What makes you so sure?" he said.
"We found footprints. No other tire tracks, and get this," she said. "We found more footprints this morning. More footprints than yesterday. They came back! Or at least Peter did. That's what we think."
"Holy cow. You think you'll find them?" he said.
"Yeah. We have a ton of volunteers; they are linking up and walking out. There's a good chance we will find him, today probably." She was all grins.
"That's excellent! I feel so relieved."
"It's really great. Hopefully, we really will find him." She winked. "I've got to go join the search. Good luck on your case."
This was excellent news. Maybe Jack had left Peter behind, and Peter was just wandering around looking for some help. He was probably too nervous to talk to any of the cops earlier. But when he heard an entire team of people calling his name looking for him, he would definitely come out! He was eight years old; he was a smart kid. Completely relieved, Edward focused renewed energy on his hunt for Chance.
The thing was, if Chance was still around, why hadn't he murdered someone else yet? Chance seemed like he was starting to spiral out of control. A thought stirred within Edward. They must've missed a clue. Was Chance too injured? Did he leave town?
Chapter
Ten
Jaspierre sat on the floor with Ikali's and Tessa's heads in her lap. Her round belly barely left room for both cats, but they were persistent. Her fingertips caressed both of their ears, and chins. "I hired a man named Dru, I'm not exactly sure if that was the right decision. He seems like a good fit, as far as scientists go." She lay down on the floor with her giant servals, and they snuggled up close as she continued to caress them.
"You see, I am sure he is the right kind of guy t
o make a ruppie. I can already tell he's got the knowledge. He is in many ways cold like Mother." The baby in her belly seemed to twitter at the purrs of the big cats. "I guess that's why I put you guys down here, even though I miss you dreadfully."
They lay together for quite a while before she finally stood and walked to the large console. She pressed a button and the glass doors slid open, but neither serval ran to their box. They were tired of the maze, despite it being as large as a football field and filled with mice, rabbits, and other prey. They preferred to be free. Ikali meowed desperately, walking up the stairs to the closed fireplace. Tessa hissed at the box.
"Come on, you guys. It's just not safe anymore." She pulled an angry Tessa by her jeweled collar and shoved her into the box. The big cat hissed, one of her claws catching Jaspierre's hand. The blood red scratch burned like fire. Jaspierre let out a yelp. Ikali came running over, but Jaspierre wasn't sure if he was about to defend her or Tessa. She shoved him hard into the box, her fury starting to build. He bit her arm, deep teeth marks sinking in. She shut the glass, and both servals were contained. Tears started to run down her cheeks as she released rabbits and spun the dials changing the platforms and walls to a new configuration. Tessa stayed in her box, meowing pitifully. Ikali ran forward and jumped on the rabbit.
Jaspierre cried hard. Her attempts to make Mother happy and to get ready for this baby were falling apart. Her only true friends, Ikali and Tessa, were growing angry and wild. How much more of this could she take? What else could she do? This baby was growing, and her family must grow too. She'd get Mother's ruppie, let her cats back out, and find her father if possible. Then this sweet little person growing inside her would know about all the most important people in her life. She'd learn about Mother and her obsession with portmanteaus and combinations. She'd learn about Mother's perseverance and coldness, and yet her ability to imagine. She would meet Pierre and learn about the strength of captivity and the beauty of being unable to crack under pressure. Her fingertips fondled the little gold ring with the white stone.
Like Lucas; Lucas knew how to handle himself. He knew how to take captivity well and use it to become the best version of himself. These were things that this new baby needed to know. They identified the past and would build the future. This baby would not be alone like Jaspierre was. It would have all the pieces of her family that Jaspierre could get.
Tessa let out a low, angry growl. If only the cost of these important things wouldn't be too high. Jaspierre put her hand against the glass door and stared at her beautiful serval. "This is for your safety, but soon the world will be right again."
She walked up the dungeon-like concrete stairs and slipped into the magnificent library. She closed the fireplace behind her, clicking on the serval's ear. She unlocked the library door and stepped into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Dru was already in the kitchen, and he said, "Where have you been?"
"I, well, I've been working in my office," she said a bit nervously. The biggest problem with very cold people like Mother was that they could be very dangerous. "Shall we go work on that ruppie?"
"Yes, that's what I was calling you for," he said. He opened his big mouth and crunched into a red crisp apple. They both walked to the barn along the dirt path. The door swung open beautifully. Dust swirled in the air as the sunshine flickered down on it. It seemed like she had just been in there yesterday, finding her mother. The fancy 3-D printers sat in the operation theater. "Have you printed something yet?" she said.
"Yes, I've printed a few things. I figured we'd start with something simple. See what we learn." He scrubbed his hands until they were pink and then slipped on medical gloves and a mask. Jaspierre joined him, but he was already picking up whatever it was that he had printed.
A young dog lay on the table. He was asleep, drugged in some way. She slipped on her mask and gloves and turned to the dog. It was a smooth brown dog. She didn't know the gender, not that it mattered to her.
Her imagination started to twirl. Wouldn't it be fantastic if they could modify this puppy into a ruppie, and then create a mate, then breed them? They would have the cutest little baby ruppie! It was impossible; it was not like they were changing the DNA of these animals. This was cosmetic surgery, not the actual creation of a new species. But, still, could you imagine the look on Mother's face to see a brand-new baby ruppie? God, that'd be amazing. Even cold, calculated Mother couldn't deny how fantastic that would be.
"Jaspierre, are you going to help or just stand there like an idiot?" Dru said. He clenched his fist tightly and took a slow breath "I... I didn't mean that. What I mean is, I printed the skin. So all we have to do is peel some off of the dog, and stitch the graft in. Would you like to start the incision?"
And hour later, she felt ashamed that he was so furious with her. She didn't do a damn thing right in his eyes, and his frustration was ballooning.
"Look, I need real assistants if we are ever going to get this done. I'll set up interviews and get them hired. You need to stay out of the lab and back in the kitchen where you belong," he bellowed with an angry tone.
Embarrassment outweighed her sparks of anger, and with her tail between her legs, she tromped back to the house. That night, she slept in her bed alone, missing her pets, crying over her inability to be a proper surgeon, and holding her hand with the gold ring on her belly, wondering if she would be a good mother, or if all her efforts were in vain.
The listing for new staff went online in the morning.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chance was starting to go stir crazy in the cabin. He never did like to sit around and heal. And frankly, it was incredibly boring without any kind of ladies to keep him company. He considered going and finding himself a companion, a thought he carried with him all the time. But this would be lousy timing to have a lady in his life. He didn't want Jasp to get too mad about him fooling around on her.
She consumed all his thoughts. Her bouncy booty, her round tummy, her big old tits. He felt like he was getting a little too old to not have impregnated her. It was time to start a family. He wanted a kid to throw a football around with, to push a stroller, to smack around when he sassed back. He missed having a family. It had always been hard; he wasn't the kind of guy that did well with all that touchy-feely crap. But there were times that he missed his aunt, or even his mother. Mostly, he was getting tired of being alone all the time. Hookers were great, but they didn't exactly stick around. They weren't any fun out of the bedroom, so to speak.
Hell, they almost were not fun in the bedroom. They were always so picky. Don't hit me so hard – I don't like that – You don't pay me enough for this. Blah blah blah, whine whine whine. That was all hookers were good for. There came a time in every man's life when he needed to settle down and sow some seeds. He was a busy man, and his wild, partying college days had come to an end. Jaspierre was the only thing that mattered now.
He hopped in the old red truck he found behind the cabin and drove to town. He just couldn't sit around here any longer, so he needed to go get ready for his kids. He drove past a yard sale. It had a crib and a football. He took both and put them in his truck. The old lady running the garage sale didn't say a word to him. In fact, when he started to walk up to pay her, she waved him off, stepped inside, and locked the door. These new tattoos were awesome.
He was driving down the street, through another neighborhood, hoping for another excellent score, when he finally saw a pair of bikes parked neatly on the sidewalk. One bike was a man's bike with a child seat attached; the other bike was pink and still had training wheels. He tossed both in his truck and continued down the street.
He came across another garage sale. There was a nice baby swing, a couple of teddy bears, and brew-your-own-beer kit. He grabbed that stuff and loaded it up, not even asking the lady if she wanted any cash. Screw that. He drove off and she didn't say damn word to him. She probably didn't care or she found his current look terrifying enough not to care. Whichever. He drove back th
e winding road to the cabin.
He passed the cabin on the left; there were cops everywhere. He slowed down, watching the circus of people and cops. One of them held a giant sign that read: Peter Mirabella, we love you, we will find you. Curious, but he didn't stick around. It was still too obvious who he was. However, he was still wondering, who was Peter Mirabella? Why were they looking for him?
And much more importantly, were they going to search his cabin? What could he do to prevent them?
After thinking about it for an hour, and unloading his truck with all his wonderful supplies for his children, he finally decided that he was going to wait in Jaspierre's room until the search had slowed. He took his gun, his porn, and a fuck-ton of bullets, and he would sit there and wait. If they came in his cabin, they'd go out with a bang, party style.
Chapter
Eleven
Jaspierre posted two more listings on Viscardine. Dru suggested the position of assistant be two individuals, with specialties in cleaning and cooking. She almost protested. Two more people. Jaspierre was a private lady; she didn't want all these nosy individuals living in her house. But a cook and a maid were a sensible suggestion and, frankly, her peace and quiet was already ruined with Dru being here. So what was her beef with two more people?
He sat in the interviews with Jasp and soon they were four.
Basel Sane was a big black man, nearly seven feet tall and three hundred euros of muscle. He was primarily going to be the chef, although he had plenty of experience monitoring vitals. He had been a nurse up until he was caught. He had been drugging men in the hospital and forcing them to give him head. Or ass. He liked the power. Women were too easy to intimidate. He liked it when a big strong man couldn't even stop him. Nobody could stop him. After his nursing career abruptly ended with a stint in prison, he became chef at a large restaurant in town. He hadn't gotten caught drugging anyone there yet, but he knew his time was drawing close. Hence, the job search.
Jaspierre's Descent (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 2) Page 7