by Jason Parent
Hunger pushed him forward. Breaking his paralysis, he crossed the room in three long strides. He jumped on the bed and straddled her.
“Vanessa, let Mommy—”
Aaron jammed his gloved hand into her mouth. “It’s been a long time.” He settled his weight down on her. With his free hand, he pulled a screwdriver from his pocket.
Raquel grunted and bit down on his hand. She jerked her head violently, but the material was so thick Aaron only felt a slight pinch. He shuffled his knees up and over her arms, pinning them to the mattress. Raquel moaned and tried to scream, but Aaron dug his gloved hand in deeper.
“Stop your squirming and shut your mouth, or I’ll puree your daughter and feed her to the baby.” Aaron shoved the screwdriver into her nostril and scraped it along the inner wall.
She froze and stared up at him with wide eyes.
He pulled the screwdriver back but kept it in front of her face. “Good. You always knew how to listen. Just one of the many things I loved about you.”
She squinted as if trying to figure out if she recognized him.
“I’m going to take my hand out of your mouth now. I’m not here for your kids, but if you try to scream or struggle or in any way cause me the slightest inconvenience, what I do to you will look like mercy compared to what I do to them. And I’ll make you watch.”
Raquel nodded. Aaron slowly drew his hand out of her mouth.
“How did you find me?” Raquel asked, sounding more angry than scared.
“Oh? You know who I am, then? I guess I won’t be needing this.” Aaron tore off his ski mask and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. “I’m a cop now. With my training, it was ridiculously easy, plus all the crap you post on social media gave me anything I might need to know about your life. If only I knew then what I know now.”
“What do you want?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Aaron ran the screwdriver down her chin and along her sternum. He cupped her breast with his free hand. “I’ve got a surprise for you, Raquel Miranda, former love of my life.”
“It’s Bancroft now. I’m married, and my husband should be coming home at any minute.”
“Nice try. Your husband works at one of the casinos and won’t be home until after five, at the earliest. You’ve griped online about him having to work overtime too much. But it doesn’t really matter. If he comes home, I’ll just kill him, too.”
Raquel gasped. “What do you want, Aaron? To kill me for something that happened half our lifetimes ago? Get on with it then. Just leave my children alone.”
“Is this where he fucks you? Where you made those two beautiful children?” Aaron pulled his handcuffs from his back pocket. “Here’s a little trick I learned from a new friend.”
He slid his knee off Raquel’s left arm and cuffed her wrist. She tried to strike him, but from her awkward vantage point, the attempt was feeble. He looped the cuff chain around a rung in the headboard then snapped the second loop around her other wrist.
After checking that she was secure, he got off her and stood by the bed to admire his success, the trophy that should have always been his.
“Please,” she said, beginning to cry. “Please don’t hurt my babies.”
Lying in front of him helpless, she reminded Aaron of Maura. He wondered if he’d really wanted to kill Maura like Carter had said. He didn’t think so, but recognizing what he’d become and considering his actions since leaving Seekonk that night, he wasn’t so sure.
“This has been a long time coming,” he said, grabbing Raquel’s face by her cheeks. He leaned over and gently kissed her upper lip. He considered screwing her. She still looked as beautiful as she had that day in Newport, the last time he’d seen her. How he had lusted after her then. He could remember the sex vividly, so full of passion.
But raping her could cause him to leave more evidence, even if he could find a condom. But mostly, he felt that raping Raquel would somehow take away from the meaning of what he was doing, un-dignify it, make it seem cheap and petty. He was there for justice. Her crime had been to cause his heart immeasurable pain. Her punishment was delayed, but it still needed enforcing. And he was law enforcement.
Raquel stared up at him with glistening eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “I have a family now.”
“A family that should have been mine! Do you have any idea how much I loved you? I haven’t been able to trust anyone completely since.”
“Aaron, it was over ten years ago.”
“And seeing you now makes it hurt just as much today as it did the day you left me. Why did you leave me?”
“You weren’t right. You killed someone—”
“Oh, please. Don’t use that as an excuse. You left me before that happened.”
“Yes. I did. And I would have left you sooner had you not made me so afraid. You’re sick, Aaron. You need help.”
The sound of a baby’s tearful cries came from down the hallway. Aaron turned toward the door.
“Please, don’t hurt her,” Raquel cried.
“What kind of sicko do you take me for?” Aaron snarled. “I would never hurt your baby.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Let me go, Aaron. You don’t want to do this.”
“Of course I want to do this. At one point, I might have agreed with you. Years of bitterness changed all that, always knowing you were the cause. I even tried to kill myself. Twice! Do you believe that? Eventually, memories of you faded, but the feelings of loneliness and loss never did. Why should I always have to feel like that while you can go on with your life, happy as a clam?”
“I had to leave everything I knew because of you. I started over, began a normal life. Even though that boy’s face haunts my dreams to this day, I carry on. I live with the guilt and try my best to raise my daughters so they’ll make better choices. I thought you had moved on, too. But when I saw your face in the news, associated with all those killings, something inside me told me that I’d see you again.”
“I didn’t kill those people.”
“No, Carter Wainwright did. That’s fucked up, Aaron. Carter Wainwright?”
“What are you—”
The pitter-patter of small feet was moving down the hallway, coming closer. He pulled a roll of duct tape from his jacket pocket and quickly ripped off a piece.
Slapping the tape over Raquel’s mouth, he said, “Shush.” He held the screwdriver behind his back and moved to block the view of the bed from the door.
Vanessa appeared in the doorway. “Mommy?”
“Hi, Vanessa,” Aaron said, smiling. “I’m Jake, a friend of your mom. Your mommy’s sleeping, but she’ll be out in a minute.”
“Tabitha’s crying.”
“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” Aaron suddenly remembered he wasn’t wearing his ski mask. Now I have to kill the kid, too. No, I can’t do that. She’s just a little kid. I haven’t fallen that far.
He grabbed the girl, who let out a high-pitched squeal, and ran out into the hallway. Raquel started shaking the bed against the wall. The pounding headboard echoed throughout the house.
Ignoring the noise, Aaron bounced Vanessa in his arms as he carried her to a bedroom he was pretty sure was hers. He plopped her down on the edge of her bed and crouched in front of her. “Your mommy wants you to stay in here. She has a big surprise for you, but you gotta wait until she gets it ready, or you’ll spoil it.” Aaron hated lying to the little girl. He had no desire to hurt her, even if he had to hurt her mother.
“Have to,” she blurted, sporting a grin short a few teeth.
“What?”
“You said ‘gotta.’ I say it too sometimes, but Mommy always says it’s ‘have to.’”
“You know what? You’re right! How did you get to be so smart?”
Vanessa giggled.
“So will you promise to st
ay in here until your daddy comes and gets you?”
“I promise,” she said, swinging her arms in the air for emphasis.
“You didn’t have your fingers crossed now, did you?”
She giggled again. “Noooo.”
“Okay, I believe you. Why don’t you play with your toys while you wait? It might be a little while. But remember, if you come out, you won’t get your surprise.”
Vanessa nodded vigorously. Aaron exited the room, closing the door behind him.
He returned to Raquel. “That’s one beautiful daughter you got there. Don’t worry. She’s in her room, completely unharmed. I asked her to wait there until her father comes home. She promised to do so. Let’s just hope you didn’t raise a liar.” He patted her leg. “She’s so happy, loving life. We were like that once, weren’t we?”
He slapped his hands against his thighs. “Shall we get started? I’m going to kill you now. If it’s any comfort, I promise not to hurt your children. Your husband will be fine, too, if he doesn’t come home too early.”
He grabbed the roll of duct tape again. Lifting Raquel’s head, he wrapped the tape around and around enough times to lose track. Her heavy breathing whistled through her nose. “I’ll be right back.” He hurried back to the kitchen and picked up his bag.
When he returned, Raquel had stopped crying. She lay still, staring at the ceiling.
Aaron sifted through his bag and pulled out the mini buzz saw. He plugged it in then raised it to show it to Raquel, but she didn’t react. She seemed to have come to terms with her fate, or at least realized that there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
Tearing open her shirt, he exposed her breasts. He again considered raping her. But he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the same, anyway.
He made quick work of opening her chest and pulling out the heart, suddenly finding no joy in prolonging it. The kill alone was enough, demanding with it a sense of power and control. But he didn’t savor it nearly as much as he’d enjoyed killing Doug. Raquel’s death was more about retribution, and he felt as though a part of him died with her.
The heart fulfilled his every expectation. He ate the entire thing while standing beside her corpse. Whatever he lost in killing Raquel was replaced tenfold when he took her heart inside him. Each bite was better than the next. Each swallow improved him instantly, both physically and mentally. He wondered how much he could progress. Could he become superhuman, like the characters in the comic books Craig used to read? He was determined to find out.
Throughout the entire operation, the baby cried. He wondered if she could sense the ill fate of her mother a few doors down.
He went to the refrigerator, where he found a row of baby bottles already prepared. He ran one under warm water for a few minutes then carried it into the baby’s room.
He picked up the infant. “You’re just hungry, aren’t you?” he said, slipping the nipple into her mouth. “I’m sorry for what I did to your mother. Eventually, we all pay for our crimes. My time will come, too, I’m sure.”
Minutes later, the baby gurgled up some milk. Aaron put the bottle on the dresser and wiped the infant’s mouth with a clean section of his sleeve, careful not to get Raquel’s blood in her mouth. He gently held her up to his chest and patted her back until she let out a loud burp.
He laid the baby back in her crib. Within moments, she was fast asleep. He thought maybe, if things had turned out a little differently, he could have been a good father. “Your father will be home soon to take care of you and your big sister,” he said, leaning over the rail.
Back in Raquel’s room, he changed into clean clothes from his bag. After gathering his tools and dirty clothes, he trekked back to the Subaru. The increasing snowfall quickly buried his tracks. The car needed some serious defrosting, and Aaron worried about being stranded so near the crime scene. But the car started, and he wiped the bulk of the snow off the windshield with his arm.
He put the car in gear and headed back to the highway to begin his long journey back to Florida.
CHAPTER 37
Jocelyn walked into Bruce’s office. “That defense attorney is here to see us, the one who represented Fournier.”
Bruce punched the keys of his keyboard harder and clenched his jaw. “I’m working here. I don’t have time for that attorney’s bullshit. I have nothing to say to her about Fournier’s death. If she wants to file a claim on behalf of his family, if he still has one, that’s between her and the Commonwealth. Far be it from me to stand in her way.”
“That’s not why she’s here. I think she wants our help.” Though it bruised Jocelyn’s ego to admit she may have been wrong, she cleared her throat and said, “Something to do with Officer Pimental.”
Bruce’s fingers froze. He stared up at Jocelyn as if trying to read her then leaned back in his chair, his hands tucked behind his head. “Send her in.”
Jocelyn nodded to Officer Clemens, who stood a few feet to her right—just far enough, she noted, to be out of Bruce’s line of sight through his office window. Clemens hurried off.
“Any idea what this is about?” Bruce asked.
She shook her head. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“Is Pimental back yet?”
“From Florida, yes. He got back two days ago, but he said he needed another week off to recover. He’ll be back on light duty next week.”
“Do any of the officers know I’m looking into him or why that attorney’s here?”
“Maybe Clemens, now. I’ll make sure he stays quiet. I’m going to grab a coffee. Want one?”
“No thanks.”
By the time Jocelyn returned to Bruce’s office with coffee, a man and a woman occupied both of his guest chairs. She walked around the desk and stood behind Bruce, sipping her coffee as she took in the visitors.
The woman, Arianna Medeiros, didn’t look nearly as smug and confident as she had the last time they’d met. The man, a morbidly obese fellow with bulldog jowls and droopy eyes, was unfamiliar.
Bruce stood, offering Jocelyn his chair. When she declined, he waved a hand toward their guests. “Detective Beaudette, you remember Attorney Medeiros?”
“Of course.”
“The gentleman beside her is her brother, Seth Medeiros.”
Jocelyn nodded. “What brings you two in to see us?”
Ms. Medeiros shifted in her seat. “As you probably know, I am—or I was, anyway—Aaron Pimental’s girlfriend.”
Jocelyn exchanged a look with Bruce. Up until recently, neither of them had taken much interest in Pimental, never mind his girlfriends, past or present. He certainly keeps to an interesting circle.
Bruce scratched his stubbled chin. “So let me get this straight. You represented an acquaintance of your boyfriend in a case involving his suspected murder of one of your boyfriend’s friends, among other people?”
Seth glowered at them. “We want to stress ex-boyfriend.”
Arianna touched her brother’s arm then straightened, exhibiting a poise under pressure that Jocelyn couldn’t help but admire. “It was… one of the many causes of problems between us.”
“What brings you here today, Ms. Medeiros?” Jocelyn asked.
“I’m worried about Aaron.”
“Aaron Pimental?”
“Yes.”
“And what exactly has you worried?”
“Let me just say this first: I don’t think Aaron had anything to do with that cult. And if you saw him after Craig’s death… well, you wouldn’t, either. But this whole thing has left him… I don’t know… different. Angrier. More depressed. Unstable.”
“Has he hurt you, Ms. Medeiros?” Bruce asked.
“No. Not physically. But there were times when I thought…” Arianna shuddered. “Anyway, he was extremely upset when I told him I was representing Doug, so much so that I thought if Doug
actually had done it, there would be no need for a trial because Aaron might kill him first. And maybe me, too, if I helped Doug get away with it. So when I heard Doug was murdered, I…”
“It’s okay, sis.” Seth grabbed her hand. “Just tell them what you think and let them handle it as best they see fit.”
She took a deep breath. “I think Aaron may have been involved.”
Jocelyn noticed Bruce leaning forward. She had to work to keep herself from doing the same.
“What makes you think that?” Bruce asked.
“Oh, I don’t have any evidence or anything like that. And I have no idea where he was the night Doug died. In fact, I would have just assumed Carter Wainwright had done it, except for what I saw on the news a few days ago.”
“Do you mean what happened in Atlantic City?” Jocelyn’s voice squeaked. That murder had caught their eyes, as well. The victim’s heart had been removed.
Arianna nodded. “The paper said she was originally from this area, and she’s the same age as Aaron. At first, I thought maybe I was jumping to conclusions. I’m no cop, but all signs seem to point to Carter. But I told Seth about it, and he keeps checking in on me, making me paranoid. He wanted me to come by and speak to you.”
“So you don’t know where Pimental was the night Fournier was murdered, but you do think he’s capable of violence?” Bruce asked.
Arianna looked down at her hands and started to pick at a cuticle. At last, she said meekly, “That’s right. He hated the fact that I represented Doug. He hated me for it. I’m scared.”
“Murder’s a serious accusation,” Jocelyn said. “Have you had any recent contact with Pimental? Has he threatened you in any way? Called you or reached out to you?”
“No, none of that, but… I don’t know.” Arianna sighed. “I’ve never seen him hurt anyone. Maybe I’m just being silly. It’s just that… I mean, it’s weird, isn’t it? That Aaron knows most of the killers and some of the victims? He was friends with a few of them.”