Nothing More Beautiful

by Lorelai LaBelle

  “Maybe he slept in. People do that from time to time, Alma. It’s no big deal.”

  “You don’t understand,” she snapped. “Vince has never missed a meeting. Vince is punctual, unlike you. I think something has happened.”

  I sighed, frustrated with her, and pissed about the barb. “Have you tried Terrance?”

  “Oh, what an excellent fucking idea” She grumbled to herself before taking a deep inhale. “Yes, I’ve tried Terrance. He’s not picking up either, and none of Vince’s security seems to know where either of them is.”

  I ground my teeth before answering. “You don’t think Vince is home?”

  “No, I don’t, and his security”—she paused for emphasis and I could imagine her doing air quotes on the other end—“team is too lazy to go up and check because I guess Vince told them last night not to bother him.”

  “I think he just wants to sleep, Alma. Or, if you’re so worried, maybe you should go and check for yourself.”

  “Not possible. I can’t leave work. But you can.”

  “I can? I’m running a business, too, Alma,” I snarled. God, she is a bitch. “Look, I gotta go. I hope you chill out.”

  “Wait,” she shrieked in a panic. “Please.” There was an attempt at civility.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Please, will you go and check? I’m worried, and I’m not a person who worries.”

  I sighed heavily. She was practically begging me, so I didn’t see how I could say no. Anyway, I could use the points to get on her good side, if she had one. Not for her, but for Vince and their friendship. I had to make the effort for him. “Fine,” I caved. “I’ll call you when I get there to tell you that you’re freaking out for no reason.”

  “Thanks, Maci,” she said. A click came next.

  I found Bridgett in the main kitchen. “Hey, I have to go to Vince’s real fast. I’ll be gone for an hour or so.”

  “Everything all right?” she asked, preparing a cookie sheet.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I replied, dodging her as she reached for a container of flour. “I guess he didn’t show up for a meeting, and Vince never misses meetings, so I thought I’d go see what’s up.”

  She nodded. “All right, see you in an hour,” she said, her mind too focused to be drawn into the conversation. That was understandable, and I did that too from time to time, responding without hearing.

  Hopping into Eddie, I drove across the city to the Envoy. The elevator ride was long and quiet. When I got to the penthouse, the door was ajar, which was unusual, as it normally was closed or wide open with a plastic wedge under it.

  The door creaked when I pushed it open. “Vince?” I called. Only silence answered me. I crept through the game room and into his bedroom. His sheets were tousled, but there was no sign of him. The clothes he wore yesterday were on the floor, as though he’d taken them off right before sleep and never collected them when he woke. That wasn’t that strange, since he was untidy in the morning, cleaning up at night if he wasn’t too drained. I searched the rest of the house, finding no trace of him. His cell was gone, yet his keys were on the hook in the kitchen, and I knew he’d never leave his place without them.

  I called the security guards that worked out of Terrance’s condo on the floor below. Only two were on duty, and only one of them bothered to come up. “So he left his keys?” the tall, skinny man named Roy said, dressed in a fine suit that made him look the part of a secret service agent. “That is a little odd.”

  “It’s also odd that no one can seem to reach him,” I said, a little paranoid now.

  “All I can say is that Terrance told us this morning not to disturb Mr. Forte because he had a long night last night. We told Ms. Perez that when she inquired earlier this morning.” With his hands on his hips, he shrugged, his head cocked to the side. “Forgetting his keys isn’t that big a deal anyhow, seeing as we have a spare down below, and he could call us to let him in if he was locked out. He’s probably just out on a run.”

  “Terrance told you, not Vince?” That sounded off. “Does Terrance normally do that?”

  “Relay what Mr. Forte says?” he asked for clarification. I nodded. “Not often, but every once in a while. Most of the time Mr. Forte will tell everyone with a group message using his walkie.” He scooped it up off the kitchen counter.

  “I’ve never seen Vince leave his door unlocked when he goes somewhere, have you?”

  “Now that detail is the most peculiar,” he admitted. “Mr. Forte has yet to leave his door unlocked or open that I know about.”

  “And you really think he’s just out for a run?”

  “That’d be my best bet, yeah,” he replied, laying down the walkie.

  “But Alma—” I stumbled over her name. “Ms. Perez has been trying to contact Vince ever since early this morning. Vince likes to work out, but for three hours?”

  He hung his head in thought. “Yeah, I guess that is a pretty long time. I’ll talk it over with Mark downstairs and see what he thinks.”

  “All right.” I shrugged off what he said. Talk it over? What the hell did that mean? I got out my phone after he left, typing in 911, pausing on the send key. Was I overreacting? The security guys weren’t worried, so why was I? Erasing the numbers, I called Vince’s gyms instead and asked if anyone had seen him. No one had. A call to Imaginuity’s lab revealed that no one there had seen him either. He was just gone.

  Panic started to settle in.

  I dialed Alma. “Is he there?” she asked as way of greeting.

  “No,” I answered flatly. “And the security guys just think he’s out for a run.”

  “But you don’t think so?”

  “I don’t know what to think,” I said honestly. “His front door was open and his keys are here.”

  “Those lazy bastards,” she snapped, but not at me. “I told Vince they had little value.” I understood “they” to mean his security team. “I’ll get the police looking. Thanks, Maci.” She was talking fast, almost too fast for me to catch that last bit.

  “You’re—” Too late, she’d hung up. “Welcome,” I finished for no one. God, she was crazy. Where else could I check? Alma was going to have the police take over. I thought about waiting for them, but I also didn’t want to hang around idly.

  I went back to his bedroom to see if I’d overlooked something. Normal. It was all normal … until I noticed a cluster of black fuzzies where Vince slept. I pinched one between my fingers and brought it up to my eyes for a closer inspection. It looked like the material the bondage cuffs had on the inside.

  The Oregon City house flashed in my mind, sparking an idea. Maybe he went back out there for his phone, and left in a hurry. That sounded too convenient in my head, too easy. He hadn’t taken his keys either, or had he? I regarded the keychain and saw that the car starter was missing. After a minor debate with myself, I texted Alma, deciding to check it out. I also sent Bridgett a text to let her know my change of plans.

  Climbing into Eddie, I headed down to Oregon City. I had a bad feeling crawling around in my brain, and the farther south I drove, the worse it got. I pulled up into the driveway, parking in front of the garages. Vince’s Mustang wasn’t there, and last time he didn’t pull into one of the garages, which may have meant they were full with other toys. It looked like I made the long trip for nothing.

  Before I got out, I checked my phone to see if Alma had replied, but it was dead. “Dammit.” I tossed it into the passenger seat. Without a charger, it was useless. Inspecting the windows on the sides of the first and third garages, I discovered they were placed too high to check inside, except maybe with a good jump, which I didn’t have.

  Luckily, the door to the house was a different story. I turned the handle and the door swung quietly open. Sidling through the house, it appeared normal, everything exactly how we’d left it—

  Until I rounded the corner and spotted Vince cuffed to the sex furniture in the same position he had strapped me. He was wear
ing only his socks and underwear, and was gagged. All the normal furniture had been moved back toward the walls, with Vince in the center of the great room. Circling him with a camera, Terrance snapped photos, acting like a professional photographer, bending down into different positions. “Yeah, baby,” I heard Terrance say. “Yeah, that’s it, work the camera.”

  My first instinct was to rush in and try to help, but Terrance weighed well over 200 pounds of pure muscle, and I killed that foolish idea straightaway. I crept back behind the wall. He hadn’t seen me, and apparently hadn’t heard my reaction to the shocking scene, so I slunk into the kitchen. A cordless landline sat on the counter. Why Vince had it, I didn’t know, but at that moment I was glad he did. Picking up the receiver, no signal graced my ears. It was either unplugged or the line had been severed.

  Shit.

  There was only one other option: drive and get help. But how could I just leave Vince behind with a psycho, strapped down and powerless? Fuck, why did my phone have to die now of all times? About to lose it, I sprinted for the open door.

  Terrance slammed it shut, jumping from around the corner of the other connecting hall. “I was wondering if you’d show up for this little get-together,” he said calmly with that deep, harsh voice of his. He closed in on me. “You’re one pain in the ass I’ll sure be glad to get rid of.”

  When he was within distance, I slapped him, and slapped him hard—but it was like slapping cement. A bolt of pain shot through my arm—my palm red and raw.

  “That wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” he said sadistically. He slapped me back with so much force, I collapsed to the floor. I could feel the bruise blooming, the blow disorienting me for a second. The next thing I knew, he was dragging me by my hair, throwing me into a chair, and wrapping a rope around me. He tied the knots unbelievably tight.

  I couldn’t budge an inch in any direction. He scooted me off to the side, in front of Vince, so that he could see me. Besides the regular cuffs of the sex furniture, Terrance had also tied Vince in place with lots of rope, restricting nearly any kind of movement. Our eyes locked, and I could read the terror in him, but I was certain there was more in me.

  Terrance went back to taking photos with an expensive digital camera. Either he forgot to gag me, or purposefully didn’t, but either way, I couldn’t prevent the words from spilling out of my mouth. “It will be okay. It will be okay,” I said, staring into Vince’s eyes.

  There was a fire in him, a burning resilience that told me it would be okay. He was screaming at Terrance through the gag, but all his words were muted, incomprehensible gibberish.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me why?” Terrance said, his eyes dark, his words even darker. “Come on, I know it’s eating at you, so go on, ask me.”

  “Why—” The word scraped against my throat. “Why are you doing this?” I stuttered, shaking in horror.

  “I thought I understood Vince,” he started, “until you walked into the picture with your pretty tits, shaking your ass in front of his face.”

  “I—”

  “DON’T,” he roared. The power of his voice made me cringe. “Don’t interrupt me … We had a special bond, Vince and I. Didn’t we, Vince?” Terrance turned from me and smirked at Vince. “We worked out together, ate meals together, watched movies, played video games. And then along comes Maci Goodwin.” He emphasized my name with a cruel glint in his eye. “Everything changed after that. Now the only time we eat together is at your pathetic brunch house. Well, I’m sick of it. Sick of you. Sick of pretending.” He went back to his work with the camera.

  “What—what are you going to do with us?” My voice quivered with every word.

  He stripped off Vince’s socks as Vince tried to kick back, but there was no room for his legs to move. “As you can see, there’s only one more piece before the finale, though it’s not like I haven’t seen it before. After I’m done getting my photos—my treasures—I suppose I’ll have to get rid of you, right? There’s certainly enough forest around to dispose of your bodies.”

  “You’re going to kill us?” I mumbled, barely getting the words out.

  “Vince and I will be together, don’t you worry about that,” he said with a devious grin. Once he had captured Vince from every angle in his socks, Terrance reached for Vince’s underwear. “So beautiful, isn’t he?” He ran his hands over Vince’s stomach.

  Vince let out a muffled scream in retaliation.

  “Please. Please don’t do this,” I begged.

  “Save your cries for the knife,” he growled. “My ears have no use for them.” He played with the elastic underwear band, snapping it against Vince’s skin, then lumbered across the room and grabbed a pair of scissors. Opening and closing them, Terrance looked at me and smiled.

  “Don’t,” I pleaded.

  “I warned you.” Terrance stepped around Vince and slapped my other cheek. “I’m a man who prefers silence.” He turned back to Vince, and in one quick motion, cut off the underwear, ripping most of the cloth with his strength. He brought the material to his face and inhaled as deep as anyone could, holding his breath, then released with a soft sigh. “Beautiful, isn’t that right, Maci?”

  Disoriented from the blow, I watched it all in a haze, my brain rattled. I could hear Vince’s protests better than I could see what Terrance was doing. My vision slowly cleared, and I saw Terrance circling with his camera as he’d done before, clicking furiously. He halted when he came between Vince and me. “Ah, it’s a shame I have to spoil such a perfect body, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Tears were running down my face in torrents.

  “Should I make him come one last time?” Terrance asked, his husky voice grating against my ears. With his hand extended out, he stepped toward Vince’s crotch.

  “Please, no. Please, please. Spare him,” I said, my voice feeble and small. “Please, don’t.”

  “Spare him?” he laughed. “I wish I could. God, I wish I could … but it’s not possible.” He withdrew his hand from Vince’s body. “However, this is a private show. An intimate, special act between Vince and me.” He ambled behind me and started dragging the chair toward the double doors. “Say goodbye. This will be the last time you see him.”

  “No, Terrance, please!” I screamed

  He hauled me out into the courtyard near the fountain, the view of Mount Hood in the distance. Vince disappeared as Terrance closed the doors. “Now it’s just you and me, baby cakes.” He laughed at himself. “Don’t people say that? Nah, real people don’t say that. It’s kind of fun to say, though—baby cakes.” He took in a whiff of the cool, clean air. “Isn’t that just beautiful?” He nodded at the mountain. “Say goodbye to it, too.”

  He heaved the chair to the right, down the walkway that connected to the parking area, past the driveway, and into the woods beyond. I was sobbing uncontrollably, my mind racing, trying to figure out what to do. Not a single plan entered my mind. How could this be real? How could this really be happening? Do all people ask themselves the same question in crazy situations like this?

  Terrance dragged me deeper and deeper into the woods. Finally, he stopped, positioning the chair against a broad tree. “Have you ever heard that song, ‘Hello Sunshine’ by, oh, I forget, but you know what I’m talking about, right? You’ve heard it, yeah?”

  I nodded, not knowing what else to do.

  From under his jacket, he pulled out a Crocodile Dundee knife that was so long and sharp, the very sight of it made me choke in fear. “I like that song,” he said. “Every time I saw Vince, I thought about that song. He was my sunshine.” He bent down so that we were eye-to-eye. “You’re the clouds that block out the sunshine. You’re the storm that never stops. It’s time to end the storm, Maci.” He stood again, towering over me.

  My voice had died from all the screams, my throat raw with pain. I could only shake my head, pleading with silent whispers.

  He raised the knife above his head and paused. “It’s time to let the sun shine, Maci
. It’s time for you to die.”

  19

  SEX AND SAND

  Terrance flinched as someone yelled, “DROP IT! DROP IT NOW!”

  He looked left and spotted the two police officers, their weapons targeting the side of his torso. He smiled at them, then at me. He lifted the blade back, about to strike, and then swung down.

  The gunshots blared in the quiet woods like sirens. A bullet pierced his hand, sending the knife to the ground. A second penetrated his shoulder, and a third punctured his side, propelling him to my right, the force driving him into the leaves.

  The two officers rushed over, one snagging the knife off the ground, the other bending before me. “Ma’am, are you all right? Are you injured?”

  I stared at the ground, my mind blank. My body felt distant, parted from me somehow, as though I floated above, watching like a bird. All of a sudden I could sense the cop cutting through the rope. “You’re safe now.” His voice rang in my ears.

  I glanced at Terrance’s body and all the blood. There was so much blood.

  “Maci,” someone cried in the distance.

  I looked up and saw Vince running. He threw his arms around me. “Are you all right?” His voice was rough but present, unlike mine. He was wearing pants, but that was all—shoeless, sockless, shirtless, and looking like hell.

  I nodded at him. “Oh, thank God. He didn’t—”

  “Maci!” Alma shouted. “Oh my God, Maci.” She squeezed in for a hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right.” She was stealing all the breath from me. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe any of it.” She pulled away, holding me at arm’s length. “Fucking Christ, I thought you two—” Her voice was shaking as much as my body was. “I’m so sorry—so—so—sorry.” Her eyes were filled with tears.

  More and more people were arriving. A woman handed me a water bottle, speaking softly, but I didn’t hear a word she said.

  “We have to get both of you checked out,” another woman said, breaking us apart. We were led up to the driveway where an ambulance and police cars littered the pavement.