Carolina Rain

by Rick Murcer

Lily kept her voice steady. “What’s the hurry, darlin’? We’re not going to talk before you bend me over?”

  “We’re going to talk, bitch. But I’m making sure you don’t have any surprises for me. Carl never saw it coming, all that y’all did to him, and that ain’t gonna happen to old Daryl, got that?”

  He bent closer to her ear, his breath rank with beer and onions. “I’m smarter than that old fart, way smarter,” he warned, his excitement already obvious against her backside. “I got a few things in place that will send your pretty ass to the chair if somethin’ happens to me, got that?”

  “I got it, and I’ll bet you are smarter, Daryl. But this is no way to start a ‘relationship,’ so get off me and let’s sit down like adults and talk about what you saw, or think you saw, okay?”

  If there was an occasion in her life that she heard someone thinking, this was it. He hesitated, started to release her, then clamped his hands tighter, released them again, then squeezed so hard she almost yelped. He released her right hand and she listened as he pulled something from out of his shirt. A second later she felt the cold, sharp blade caress her cheek. Slowly, like he was debating the wisdom of his actions, Daryl lowered his stubbled chin to her face. “If’n you try anything stupid, I’ll gut you like those pigs I carve up at the slaughterhouse. Blood don’t bother me none and I ain’t known for my humor.”

  With that, he thrust his groin hard against her, then stood up, backing away from her.

  Gathering her strength, she shut down the smile that her new “friend” never saw and switched to the scared little girl that had caused far brighter men, including her father, to melt more than once. She felt her excitement swell. So this is what those millions-of-dollars-a-movie idiots in Hollywood must feel like when they slip into a role that fits them completely. She was born for this one, as Daryl would soon discover.

  Lily rolled over and sat up, tears coating her eyes, rubbing her gloved hand and rubbing her leg under her black yoga pants.

  “You hurt me, Daryl. I hope you’re proud of yourself. Does it make you feel like a man to treat women like that—especially one that’s hurting?”

  The brief look of confusion flashing in his small, dark eyes told her she’d at least gotten a foothold on his emotion. That’s all she needed.

  “I saw what you did, bitch. Don’t give me that ‘I’m helpless’ shit. I saw what you did, corkscrew and all.” He pointed the six-inch blade in her direction. “I ain’t gonna be the next one.”

  Yes, you are, you country moron. Yes, you are, and it’s going to be . . . sweet.

  Rising slowly, she walked to the bed, sat down, and unbuttoned her blouse to expose cleavage old Daryl had only dreamed about seeing in the flesh.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re an asshole but you’ve made me hot. I love it when men take charge, and the rough act just makes me wetter. Let’s bounce first and then we can talk about what you think you saw, okay?”

  Uncertainty seeped into his eyes momentarily, then he turned back to the apparent safety of his macho display. But she could see the sweat forming on his brow as his eyes switched between her breasts and her face, settling on her chest.

  “Wha-what’s under that there glove? I asked old J.R. and he said he ain’t seen you without it, and he didn’t give a shit, anyway. But I ain’t getting’ close to you unless I see for myself.”

  Tilting her head to the floor, she spoke softly. “What if you don’t like what you see? What if the sight of what those people did to me turns off those switches you got all revved up?”

  “I’ll take that chance,” he answered.

  “I won’t. Come on, Daryl. I’m hot and bothered and ready to give you what you want. What the hell’s your problem? Are you queer?” her voice was edgy, almost angry.

  Her Oscar was already a done deal.

  “What? You stupid slut. You think I’m a fag? I’ll show you what you ain’t ever had before.”

  He took two steps toward her, then stopped, the crooked grin showing just how bad his teeth were. Green accented some of the yellow.

  “You almost had me, woman. I’ll give y’all credit for that. As good as you look, I ain’t dying just for no piece of ass, no matter how fine it’d be.”

  “You are smarter than I thought, Daryl. But you got me wrong.”

  She uncrossed her legs and ran her hand along her thigh. “I’m not that complicated or devious. Come get it, no strings attached.”

  “Yeah, I bet that’s what you told old Carl, didn’t ya?”

  She sighed. “Okay. I can see I’m not going to get what I want until we resolve last night. You got that wrong too. What if I told you it wasn’t me with Carl last night? What if I told you I have a friend that I’m trying to help through a rough stretch?” she asked so softly that her captor leaned closer to hear.

  More doubt clouded his thin face. “I didn’t see no other—”

  “Really? Tell me what you saw.”

  “Well, I saw you go into his house . . .”

  “So you followed me? I bet you have some real expensive binoculars, right? You are a pervert, aren’t you?” she smiled as she spoke. “But did you actually see me kill him?”

  His gaze finally left hers and he stared at the floor. “I . . . didn’t . . . see that, no.” He raised his head, a new defiant look draping his face. “I saw you through that cracked curtain and you was riding him like a bull at a rodeo. Then I saw that corkscrew thing. I just figured you took him out.”

  She patted the bed next to her, then finished unbuttoning so her opaque black lace bra was totally exposed.

  “Come on, man, I’m getting warmer by the second. Isn’t this why you didn’t go to the cops? To get me like this?”

  He nodded, swallowed hard, and nodded again.

  Patting the bed again, she whispered. “I’ll tell you what really happened when we get done and if you’re a real good boy, that might mean tomorrow morning.”

  He swallowed again, took a step back, but the battle was lost for Daryl, forever.

  “Now that would be right fine but I still don’t trust yer purty little ass. We’ll do this my way.”

  She’d gotten what she wanted and he still thought he was in control. His idiocy would be his undoing.

  He shuffled over to the bed, sat down, and raised the knife to her chin, his hand shaking ever so slightly.

  “Don’t cut my throat with that.” Then she slowly placed her hand on his, raising her mouth to him.

  Daryl kissed her, then kissed her again, trying to show some measure of tenderness. Odd, for a man like him. That made it even better. She bit his lip, hard, and felt the warm blood. Daryl moaned.

  Reaching down, she touched his thigh, running her hand upward, but stopping just short of where he wanted her most because he’d begun to shake, dropping the knife in the process.

  A few seconds later, her man Daryl was on the floor quivering. His eyes were wide and, for the moment, they could follow her as she pulled her purse over to her side and took out the wooden handled corkscrew, the small case of scalpels, and a sewing kit. His widening, horrified eyes caused her heart to climb to the next level.

  Taking her time, she drew close to him, feeling his shallow breath and watching his chest rise and fall ever so slightly.

  “Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to put things in your mouth that you couldn’t eat? You just never know what you might catch.”

  She raised the corkscrew high above his head so that he could see it—and her intent.

  “Thank you, Daryl. You’ve made my afternoon. You should be applauded for that.”

  Then Lily brought her hand down with all she had.

  CHAPTER-22

  Waiting for Manny, Alex, and Sophie to enter the terminal at Myrtle Beach International Airport, Josh Corner stood behind the tinted window near their gate door, listening on his cell phone. The man on the other end wasn’t giving him time to respond and he wasn’t sure he had a pertinent syllable to utter a
nyway. There were times to listen, really listen, and instances to cut through the bullshit and take over, something he’d always been good at. But this was a golden opportunity to listen. The voice carried a panicked edge. The incident the voice on the other end was describing wasn’t about breaking procedure or an employee making a mistake. It wasn’t about getting your ass so deep into the fire that the burns would leave a professional scar and cost you your job. Although all of those situations may come to fruition for the director of the hospital. It was about the butterfly effect and how one small event could change the lives of many. Especially since the butterfly was Max Tucker.

  Finally, the stream of words that sounded like a defense attorney’s opening statement to a murder case ceased.

  “Thank you for all of your help and please let me know, via e-mail, if you think of anything else,” Josh said calmly. “And yes, I’d send my family out of town, if I were you. The kind of personality that Max Tucker exhibits, as you’re aware, might be thinking revenge is sweeter than freedom.”

  Ending the call on his smartphone, he glanced at Dean Mikus, who was standing about ten feet from the metal door with his hands folded in front of him, paisley cap firmly gripped, and waiting for the woman of his dreams. Josh loved Sophie but never pictured her as the dream-answering type. Then again, life took all kinds, and he’d found himself appreciating that more and more as he grew older.

  Dean returned Josh’s gaze, looked down at the floor, and grinned. “I must look like a total love-struck geek,” he said.

  “Well, from the first minute I laid eyes on you in San Juan, the geek part was obvious and I think it was more like oh princess of my life I’d die for you, than love struck.”

  “Bite me, sir. And really? What gave me away?”

  “I think the bending of knee and kissing the skin from her hand was a sure-fire sign. The drooling didn’t help either.”

  Letting out a breath, his newest CSI shook his head. “Never had this kind of situation before. Wanting to be this close to someone. It’s new to me, but I’ll, we’ll, work it out.”

  “I hope so, Dean. I hated losing Chloe from this team and I’d hate to lose either one of you for the same reason. Just keep it low profile and stay out of bed with her. Of course, Williams will know if you do sleep together and his lecture on waiting and doing the right thing is an ass-kicker.”

  “So I’ve heard, and I respect that. If I’ve learned anything being around him, he’s real. We need more of that. Besides, I’ve kind of made myself the same promise. I know, dorky by today’s standards, but I don’t want to be tired of sex on my wedding night. I want it to be a night to remember. And if it is Sophie . . .”

  Raising his hand, Josh interrupted. “If you think that every night with Sophie wouldn’t be a night to remember, and in a million different ways, you’re dreaming. And now you’re getting past the red on the TMI meter. Just keep it together, like I said.”

  “It’s a deal. But I do have one question. It seems she’s a little sweet on you. Is that like the real thing?”

  Laughing out loud, Josh slapped Dean on the back. “It’s flattering to have the attention she can give, but nothing has happened, nor will it. I’m a jerk of a husband, from time to time, but I love my wife and boys and will do what it takes to make the best marriage possible. Sophie’s special though.”

  At that moment, the door swung open and Alex walked through, followed by Manny, supporting Sophie with one arm under her ribs. She was as pale, with a tint of green, as Josh had seen her. His smirk was hard to suppress. Dean thought it less funny, however.

  “Sophie! Are you all right?”

  “Do I look like I’m all right? Aren’t you supposed to be observant?” she muttered.

  “She’ll be fine in a few minutes. It was a little rough on the descent and she hates the landings anyway,” said Manny, trying to disguise a smirk of his own.

  “Hey Sophie, want a piece of sausage and pepperoni pizza? I’ll buy,” asked Alex, his eyes sparkling.

  “You bastard,” she whispered and rushed to the ladies room, hand over mouth.

  “She’s going to hurt you one of these days,” said Josh.

  “Yeah, but it’ll be worth it.”

  “I think that’s cold, partner,” said Dean.

  “Paybacks aren’t supposed to be warm and fuzzy for the recipient,” he said, laughing.

  Scanning all three men’s faces, Josh watched Dean fight the grin that was just below the surface of his beard and moustache. He almost made it.

  “Okay. It’s a little funny, but that motion sickness stuff is awful and—”

  “Hey, Mikus, was that a damned grin I saw on your face?”

  Josh watched as Dean turned quickly to see Sophie emerge from the restroom doorway. She was still pale, her eyes had come back to life, however. He found himself stepping back, just in case.

  “Ahh, no. I was defending you.”

  “Oh, bullshit. I see how this is. All of you need to watch your backs. It ain’t nice to make fun of sick people. I’m taking off the gloves. And I don’t care if you just got stabbed, lost a hand, need a damned haircut and a wardrobe overhaul, or are the boss of this chicken-shit outfit. It’s on.”

  Josh took another step back. “We get it, Agent Lee. Now, can we get to work? We’ve got more than one concern here,” he said. “Sorry you guys had to fly into Myrtle Beach. The airport in Wilmington was having issues with the weather so this was the next best spot.”

  “No problem. Sophie didn’t mind.”

  “Kiss ass, Williams,” barked Sophie, pointing to her backside.

  “Okay, maybe a little problem. What else is going on?” asked Manny. “Does this have something to do with Max?”

  It was remarkable how Manny could ask a simple question and change the whole atmosphere of a situation. It didn’t appear that the man had lost a thing.

  Josh shrugged. “I don’t know how in the hell you do that but, yes it does. You know about the hair in Garity’s shoe, right?”

  Manny nodded, glancing at Alex and Sophie. “We had a chance to talk about that on the trip down. We have a couple of theories and none of them make me smile.”

  “That goes for all of us. I liked Max but this new evidence suggests only that . . .”Alex was interrupted by Josh.

  “It suggests that they met, that they knew each other or, at some point, were at least in the same room, perhaps even together, at the same time.”

  “You need to let me finish . . . pure speculation,” answered Alex. “It could have been a chance encounter on a flight that they were both on, for instance.”

  “He’s right,” said Dean. “Who knows what you might have on the bottom of your shoe this very instant.”

  “Good God, Mikus. I don’t need to think about that right now,” said Sophie, clutching her stomach.

  Josh shook his head. “I don’t think so because . . .”

  “ . . . Max has escaped, hasn’t he?” asked Manny.

  “Yes, he has, and worse than that, he’s killed his therapist to do it.”

  Manny’s face changed expression to one of disbelief. It didn’t last long.

  “Damn it. And let me guess; he’s nowhere to be found,” said Manny quietly.

  “You’re right, again. I’ve already called Chloe and the Detroit office as well as Gavin and the Lansing Police Department. They’re taking every precaution and will have officers at Alex’s place as well.”

  Frowning, Manny spoke. “That’s disturbing on too many levels. I thought Max had a chance to beat this . . . illness. I guess that was just wishful thinking. And alerting the folks in Michigan is quick thinking on your part, but I don’t think Chloe or Jen, Barb, or for that matter any of our families are in any danger unless they get in his way.”

  “Why?” asked Dean.

  “They’re not the source of his frustration or his anger trigger; Josh and I are. We put him there so we have to pay. He sees us as the biggest obstacles to his life goals. Pl
us, I slapped him. Retribution for that will drive him too. He’ll want instant gratification and not dance on our emotions like Argyle did. The fact that he killed to get out suggests to me that I’m right on this and his anger has grown. Nothing short of seeing that anger resolve itself by getting rid of the source will do.”

  “But Chloe, Sophie, and I were with you two in Ireland, so why not us too?” asked Alex.

  “Remember when we went through the transcript of his evaluations and interviews from the hospital? He’d never use anyone’s name, other than mine and Josh’s. He didn’t realize that he was fixating on us even then. In fact, I’d bet he still looks at you as some kind of friend, at least as he interprets friends.”

  “Great. This job is just full of fringe benefits. I love the fact that you two are the preferred subjects of psycho killers with vendettas,” said Sophie.

  “Who better than us?” said Manny.

  “How about politicians in Washington?” said Sophie.

  Ignoring her, Josh kept a close eye on his best profiler. Manny’s hand was in his hair as usual, a frustration edging his face. A sigh escaped his lips. Josh could see his good friend was struggling to stay in cop mode, resisting the urge to walk back out the door and order the Gulfstream V back to Michigan. Who could blame him?

  “Manny, your family’s in good hands, especially with Chloe inside. He won’t want to mess with her. Besides, I think you’re right regarding Max’s intent.”

  “I just gave you my best guess, that doesn’t mean I’m totally right. Why are you so sure I’m on it?”

  “The truck he drove out of Kalamazoo was found abandoned in southern Indiana.”

  “That could mean anything,” answered Manny.

  Reaching into his pocket, Josh motioned for his crew to look at the screen of his smartphone.

  “I don’t think so. He left a note on the steering wheel.”

  The lighted screen sprang to life and displayed Max’s message.

  I’LL BE SEEING YOU BOTH SOON, AGENT CORNER AND AGENT WILLIAMS. REAL SOON.

  CHAPTER-23