No Remorse No Regret (Counterstrike Book 1)

by Ian Worrall

  Mitchell shakes his head. “Unfortunately, we have to cut him loose. Until the next woman that fits his signature is raped.”

  “Or until our vigilante gets him.”

  “Set up a tail on him, kid. We might get lucky.”

  “In what way, she gets him or we get her?” Jackie asks.

  “Both,” Mitchell says as he turns to leave with the other two smiling behind him.

  Jackie speed dials one of the detectives on her phone. “Lenny, can you follow a guy who’s walking out of the interview rooms?” She gives him the description of Craig Dussault and his address.

  * * *

  Entering the dungeon, Colton carries his new torture devices to suspend his victims from the ceiling. “Good day, ladies. How are things today?”

  Neither of them answer him as they look down at the floor.

  “Cat got your tongue, girls?”

  Still no answer, Colton smirks. He climbs a two-step ladder and proceeds to drill holes in the ceiling about one foot from the wall. As he does he starts singing the song from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. “Whistle while you work. When there’s too much to do, don’t let it bother you, forget your troubles, try to be just like a cheerful chickadee.”

  With the holes drilled into the ceiling, he steps down from the ladder and drills holes into the wall for the anchor while continuing to hum the “Whistle While You Work” song. Once finished, he screws the anchor into the wall and the top of the pulley into the ceiling.

  He takes his stun gun out of his pocket and kneels next to Sara. “Just to ensure your compliance, my little sweetie.” She spits in his face.

  Zapping her with the stun gun, she falls to the floor unconscious. Wiping his face on his sleeve, Colton starts to secure the front end of the chain to her leg iron. Michelle spits in his direction and misses.

  “You’re going up next, my little darling.”

  “I’m not your little darling, I’m your victim,” she says.

  Colton shrugs as he hoists Sara up on the pulley. Once at the top, he secures the other end of the chain onto the anchor.

  “Now for your display hanger, darling,” he says. “I’ll reverse how I hang you up. Sometimes by the wrists and sometimes by the ankles. Don’t want you dying too soon before I have my fun.”

  He starts unpacking the second pulley from the shopping bag.

  “It must feel good, doesn’t it?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “Repaying people for all the suffering you went through.”

  “What would you know?”

  “Did the girls in your school laugh at you when you asked them to dance or go to a movie? The jocks all pushed you around? Was someone so mean to you that you’ve got to take revenge on smaller, weaker people because you can’t do anything worthwhile with your pathetic excuse for a life?”

  Colton’s eyes widen and he breathes out in rage using language that would make a sailor blush. He stands up and kicks her in the face, breaking her nose, knocking two teeth out, and rendering her unconscious.

  * * *

  Lying on the couch in the theater, Melissa is halfway between asleep and awake when she feels a hand on her shoulder. Bolting wide awake, the blanket flies off her as she grabs the hand with both of hers and does a wrist lock throw, sending Danil flying over the couch onto the floor. He looks up smiling at her. My woman is the best.

  “Good reaction, my love.”

  “Sorry, didn’t know it was you at first.”

  Getting up from the floor, “Like I said, it was a good reaction. Did you like my gift?”

  Standing up from the couch, she does a pose for him, it was a gift for you, not for me.

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifts her up so her face is level with his. They kiss for several seconds.

  “I saw your gift for me,” he says.

  “Take it you like both?”

  “I’m surprised you want to use a condom.”

  “Thought you might like to try it in the dark, slide it home with no lights to guide you.”

  They kiss again briefly.

  “You don’t want–”

  “Kids? We’ve been trying for ten years. Maybe children just aren’t in the cards for us.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Besides it’s just one time. I’ve got twenty years or more before it won’t be possible to for me to get pregnant.”

  * * *

  At the police interview room, Mitchell has closed the file on Malcolm Nelsen, the fifth of the day. A well-muscled man of six foot two and two-hundred twenty pounds, he has his head shaved bald. His reaction to seeing the murder victims was like that of the previous interviewees. Extreme anger and denial that he had anything to do with it.

  Mitchell steps out of the room and into the video monitor room.

  “So, what do you two think?” he asks.

  “Same as the others we’ve talked to so far,” Zach replies.

  “And you, Jackie?”

  She shakes her head no. “His was a one-off rape.”

  “Your point?”

  “Well, not to defend a convicted rapist but both him and the girl were drunk. She had a fake ID, lied about her age. They got carried away and one thing became another. Probably could happen to any guy. He’s done everything he’s been required to do for his parole conditions. Hasn’t missed an appointment and kept his record clean. He’s one of the guys a sex offender program could work on.” At least it better. “But further, to my point, teach men not to get drunk to the point where they lose control of their inhibitions.”

  Mitchell nods. “Three more to interview, John Harris, Kyle McDonnell, and Kevin Underwood.”

  Jackie looks to the uniformed officer outside the room. “Cut him loose.”

  “Two of the other three are tomorrow,” Zach states.

  “Which are?” Jackie asks.

  “McDonnell and Underwood,” Zach says.

  Mitchell points to the file on John Harris, “And him?”

  “We can pretty much scratch him off the list,” Jackie says.

  “Really, why?”

  “Died in a car accident yesterday.” Jackie says.

  “But we got another letter from The Drowner,” Zach says.

  “If it was him then we need to check his home. Or if there’s another victim we’ll know he wasn’t our killer,” Mitchell says.

  * * *

  With the room dark, Melissa is lying naked on the bed waiting for Danil.

  “I’m ready for you. Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she says.

  “Just sliding it on, my love.”

  Melissa hears the bathroom door close and sees a straight orange glow moving towards her. Then it’s just above her. She stifles a groan as he enters her, he wouldn’t care if it hurts, and he starts thrusting. Melissa runs her hands over his muscled arms and back. Maybe he’s better than the kid was.

  “Oh yeah, this is great. You are so amazing.”

  Danil starts laying heavy kisses on her lips and cheeks, “I love you more than anything, babe. You’re my true love. My one and only.”

  * * *

  Pacing his living room, Colton is clenching and unclenching his fists and breathing out hard. His jaw tightens. He grabs his head to ease the pain of the splitting headache that just started. He kicks the couch. Should I kill that Michelle bitch right now or kill Sara as she watches? Teach her a lesson for talking to me like that. Like all the other bitches, they think they’re better than me. Just because I’m a skinny guy who sucked at football. I’ll show them all what it means to be pushed around.

  Sitting down on the couch he picks up the burner phone to call another little bitch’s big brother. Don’t want the real cops tracking me. He dials the number he has listed for Salvatore Vacelli.

  “Hello, Mr. Vacelli? It’s detective Cole Porter. You have a younger sister Melissa? No? OK, wrong one, I apologize.”

  He clicks the end call button and then crosses that name off his list. The secon
d one on his list is for Peter. He dials that number and a woman answers the phone.

  “Is this Mrs. Vacelli?”

  “Yes, and I’m not interested in anything you have to sell.”

  “That’s good. I’m not selling anything.”

  “Then why are you calling?”

  “I’m detective Cole Porter. Can I speak to your husband?”

  “He’s walking the dog right now,” she says.

  “OK. I need to meet with him. I’m following up on some leads.”

  “What do you think he did?”

  “I’m sorry, nothing that I know of. It involves his little sister, Melissa.”

  “What did she do?”

  Colton pumps his arm. This is the one.

  “It’s best we meet in person, that I not give details over the phone.”

  “Can you be here in an hour?” she asks.

  “Certainly can. Your address is 278 Gershwin Lane?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “See you soon,” Colton says.

  He ends the call, target in sight. Getting up from the couch, he picks up the police badge and fake ID. Leaving the living room, he opens the door to the dungeon and sees the two women have regained consciousness. Although Michelle has stopped bleeding, there is a pool of blood underneath her.

  “Gotta go out for bit ladies. So, hang in there, I’ll be back to you.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” the two yell back at him.

  * * *

  Finished making love, Melissa is lying on top of Danil with her head resting on his chest. The lights are now on, the two of them both smiling while he strokes her head with one hand and caresses her cheek with the other.

  “So how many more times you want to try it that way?” Danil asks.

  “Once was good. I still want to try for children.”

  “Of course,” he replies as he moves his hands in circles down her back. Easy enough for me to make sure she never finds out I have one on the way. But now is not the time for that.

  She gets up from on top of him and stands on the floor.

  “I got the next five hits you want done. All Black Roses?” she asks.

  He kisses her hands. “Three are. The other two are stiffing me on payments, so they’re the priority.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Might be a peace deal with the Roses. Meeting with them tomorrow.”

  “Really? You?”

  “Some of the others are concerned about the police attention,” he says.

  “You were also fifty short on the money you owe me.”

  “Because of the guys stiffing me. Take them out and you can take what you want from them.”

  “How about you give me the money you owe me, then I’ll do the jobs,” she says.

  Danil sits up. Even though he is sitting and she is standing his eye line is level with hers. He takes both her hands in his.

  “My sweetie,” he pulls her in and kisses her on the lips as he puts both her arms in his left hand grabbing her in a handcuff type hold. With his right hand, he grabs her underneath her jaw, shutting her mouth. He stands up, lifts her off the floor, and carries her over to the wall, pinning her against it.

  “Are you forgetting you’d be shark shit if not for me?”

  She shakes her head and squeezes his forearm once.

  “Do the jobs and then you’ll get paid, got it?”

  She squeezes his forearm twice.

  “Your little jaunt up to Chicago is causing problems. Did you not think that killing a man like that would bring attention?”

  She shrugs her shoulders as best as she can.

  “No more rapists until I give the go ahead for it. Understood?”

  Melissa squeezes his forearm twice.

  He kisses her on the forehead. “Good girl.”

  Danil throws her across the room. She lands on the bed and rolls off, crashing to the floor.

  “Now get to work.”

  Crying as she gets dressed in the tunnel, no one, not even he can do that to me and tell me what to do. I’ll take out as many rapists as I please. Take him out too, after the escape plan and all the bank accounts are set up. Or go on a mass shooting spree and take out as many men as possible before committing suicide by cop.

  * * *

  In the task force room, Mitchell receives the report from the new letter.

  “What’s it say?” Jackie asks.

  “No fingerprints or DNA. There are two girls missing that didn’t go back to their dorm room.”

  “And anything else?”

  “Their cell phones were found.”

  “Where?”

  “About a mile from the pool house we went to.”

  Jackie sits down with her head in her hands. “That SUV we saw at the traffic lights, could that have been him?” she asks.

  “We’re checking what cell towers their phones were pinging from and at what time. Also, to see if they had any apps installed on their phones that show any type of movement,” Mitchell says.

  Chapter 51

  C olton takes a cup of coffee from Pete’s wife, Martha, who then hands one to Pete. Both the interviewees are in their early thirties with the lithe bodies of those who take physical fitness seriously.

  “Thank you,” he eyes Martha.

  Pete says, “You want to ask about my little sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “What exactly would homicide cops want with her?”

  “I’m doing some follow up. Routine shit—stuff, sorry—from The Drowner case of ten years ago.”

  Pete asks, “Why would you think she was a victim of a serial killer? She’s still alive.”

  “Not that she was a victim. She was or is of similar physical description of his victims.”

  “And that is what?”

  “She’s small, petite, and she was in college at the time?” Colton asks.

  “Yeah. Drama school. She was going to be an actor.”

  “What movies or TV shows was she in?”

  “None. She quit abruptly and went to study to be a social worker right around that time,” Pete says.

  Colton nods. On the right track. Soon to have her back in my grasp.

  “So, she quit right around the time of The Drowner killings?” Colton says.

  “I think right around the time they stopped.”

  “So, your sister, Melissa Vacelli--”

  “It’s Vance, Melissa Vance actually. She changed her name then, too.”

  “Ok, well like I said, I need to do some follow up. How can I get in touch with her?”

  “What type of follow up do you need to do?” Pete asks.

  “Did she mention if she was being followed or watched?”

  “I don’t recall her saying anything. If she had, Dad and I would have made anyone harassing her disappear.”

  “Oh yeah. I can imagine. Anyone was to harm my sister, I’d get kicked off the police force for what I’d do to him. That’s the stuff we need to find out. If she had a description of anyone,” Colton says.

  “Well, she uses a mailbox. Even her family doesn’t know where her home is. It’s almost like she doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “Really?” Colton asks.

  “Isn’t that behavior of a woman who’s been sexually abused?” Martha asks.

  Colton leans back making a steeple with his hands as he brings them to his mouth. Target locked onto my prey.

  “It can be one of those traits,” Colton says.

  “There were reports there was a survivor recently,” Pete says, putting the pieces together.

  “Yes, which is why it’s doubly important I speak with her. With The Drowner back, he might try and find her. If she’s the survivor.”

  “She uses a message service. The number is,” he checks his mobile phone, “813-686-7531.”

  “Do you have the mailbox number?” Colton asks.

  “Yeah.” He checks his phone again. “17-685.”

  Colton writes this down. “Seve
nteen thousand six hundred eighty-five,” he repeats back hoping for a quick end to this one. Still must get Haley Vater. He finishes the coffee and gets up from the couch.

  “No, it’s seventeen dash six eighty-five. The seventeen is the post office number. Remember the changes they made last year in organizing post offices?”

  “I do now.”

  Pete stands up and shakes his hand.

  “Thanks, detective.”

  “Porter. Cole Porter.” He shows him his badge, “Badge number 7484.”

  “If I ever meet this Drowner asshole, he’ll pray for the needle. That’s a better death than I’d give him,” Pete says.

  “I’d give him the rack myself. I’ve seen what the victims went through. But we still have to be humane.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true.”

  Colton nods to Martha. “Thanks for the coffee, ma’am.” Maybe after I get your sister, I should take your wife, he doesn’t add.

  Pete and Martha watch him go out to his SUV and drive off. Pete turns to his wife clapping his fists together.

  “My little sister was raped.” He punches the wall. “Why didn’t she tell anyone?”

  “Don’t they say a lot of rapes go unreported?”

  “She knew better than that.”

  “Pete, she was probably embarrassed and humiliated. She didn’t want you and your father to know.”

  “I swear if I get my hands on the bastard who did this to her.”

  “I know.”

  Pete then dials up Melissa’s number on his phone and gets the voicemail service. “Hey, little sis, it’s your big bro. A cop named Cole Porter is going to get in touch with you. Call me, please. Maybe you and Max can come over for dinner this week or next.”

  “When will she call? In a week, as usual?” Martha asks and Pete grunts an affirmative reply.

  * * *

  In her living room, Melissa is going over the files on her next two targets. Two of the files lie open on the coffee table, the other three are closed.

  John Ferris, stiffing Danil on his drug money. I guess you know how that feels, don’t you, Danil? At the Hero’s Sports Bar and Grill, he sells cocaine, ecstasy, meth, and heroin. The mole in the department is always able to warn him when the cops are about to raid.

  An hour after closing, all the staff but him will be gone. He sleeps in the loft above the bar. What a cliché, but it will make it easier to take him out and then it will be hours before anyone will be there.