This was not good. Bernadette was an early riser and often arrived at her daycare well before it opened. It was now past nine and she still wasn’t answering her phone. Rochelle didn’t want Andy to think she didn’t trust him, but she couldn’t rest until she knew Bernadette was safe and Andy’s breakthrough was real.
She opened her purse and pulled out the latex gloves she’d tucked inside that morning. If she had to do something drastic, Rochelle wasn’t leaving fingerprints everywhere. She put the gloves on, and then steeling her nerves, Rochelle walked to the front door of the cottage. She reached into her purse again, confirmed the small gun she carried “just in case” was still there, and then she knocked on the door.
She heard movement inside. A good sign?
A shadow passed the small window at the top of the door, and then the sound of a lock turning. The door swung inward, and Andy, disheveled and wearing only his boxers, appeared. “Hey, Rochelle. What’s up?”
“You didn’t text me back this morning,” she said. “Everything okay?”
“Oh yeah,” Andy scratched his chin, which was scruffy. “Just got busy. Had to clean up, shower, and then I had an early breakfast.”
Rochelle smiled, but something made her pause. “Andy, you’re not whispering.”
“I know!” He grinned. “It’s like last night unlocked something inside me. I’m so much better now. I bet I don’t even need to come back to group.”
“I doubt that,” Rochelle said, his unnaturally loud and cheerful voice setting off alarms in her head. “May I come in?”
“Sure.” Andy stepped back. “You’re just in time to join me for second breakfast actually.”
“Second breakfast?” Rochelle smelled the scent of spiced meat. It was strange, almost like steak, but not quite. “What are you cooking?”
Andy walked past her. “Follow me and find out.”
Rochelle trailed after him through the cozy living room and to the back of the house, where the cramped kitchen was located. She paused, eyeing the thinly sliced strips of meat browning in a frying pan. Next to that, a smaller pan contained scrambled eggs, with chunks of what looked like ham mixed in. “Looks delicious. I didn’t know you could cook.”
“I love steak and eggs. Haven’t bothered cooking in so long, I’d forgotten how good I was at it.”
Rochelle nodded. She took a seat at the small bistro table placed in the far corner of the room, where one could gaze out at the weed-covered back yard, straight to the woodshop. She noticed the door was open. The weathered grey wood was so dull and faded, it made the streaks of red on the edge of the door stand out like a beacon. “Um… Andy?”
“What?”
Rochelle reached into her purse. Her heart slowed a little as she felt the weight of the gun in her palm. “What’s on the door out there?”
“Out where?”
Rochelle turned. He seemed fine, unconcerned. Actually, the Andy before her now was the most content, better than fine Andy she’d ever seen. Please let it be because Bernadette sparked hope in him, and not because… she couldn’t even think it. “On the shed door. There’s red streaks.”
“Oh,” Andy peeked out the window and then straightened. “I suppose I’ll have to clean that up too. Glad you noticed. I swear, I’ve never used so much bleach in my life.”
Rochelle felt a lump form in her throat. “What is it?”
“Blood.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, Rochelle almost felt silly for believing the sight of blood implied anything but good, normal activities. “Whose blood?”
“Speaking of blood, can you grab the ketchup from the fridge?”
Rochelle blinked, but found herself standing. She walked to the fridge. As she put her hand on the door, she noticed a red fingerprint on the freezer. Taking a deep breath, Rochelle opened the small door above the refrigerator.
“Oh shit.” She whispered.
There, next to a half-full box of popsicles and a stack of TV dinners, were several zipper bags. The first contained what could be any sort of meat. Next to it, though, was a bag containing a tiny hand. Rochelle swallowed back the vomit that burned her throat. Next to the hand, she saw a bag that contained something covered in flesh. A chunk of....
“Andy?”
“What? Oh, Rochelle, the ketchup isn’t in the freezer. You’re so silly.”
“Is that a child’s hand?”
“Pffft. No.” Andy was right behind her. “I told you I had a breakthrough. If I’d cut up a kid and stuck it in my freezer, that would be the opposite of breakthrough.”
Rochelle wished she’d taken the gun out of her purse. “Whose hand is it?”
“Bernadette’s.”
“What?” Rochelle spun around. “Tell me you’re joking. This is your attempt to teach me a lesson for not trusting you, and that is not a real hand in your freezer.”
Andy’s smile faded. “You’re mad. I knew you might be, because she was your friend, but you realize what this means, don’t you?”
“It means you murdered someone, Andy. That is not a breakthrough.” Rochelle couldn’t breathe. “It’s a breakdown. You’ve lost your mind.”
“But it is a breakthrough!” Andy took her hands in his. Rochelle resisted the urge to pull away. “Why are you wearing gloves?”
“Is that the issue we should be discussing right now?”
He blinked. “Right. You have to know that I have no desire—zero—to lick, taste or eat children. I tested the theory early this morning, after I cleaned Bernadette off the woodshed floor.”
Rochelle shivered. “Tell me that’s not Bernadette in the frying pan.”
“I’d have to lie.”
“Oh God.”
“Just calm down and listen to what happened. When I’m done, you’ll see it’s not as bad as it looks.”
She had to get a grip or he might put her in the frying pan next. Rochelle forced her anxiety down and tried to appear calm. “I’m pretty sure it is worse than it looks.”
Andy sighed. “Are you going to listen or not?”
What choice did she have? “Fine. Go on.”
“So, I went to the store for more bleach, and there was this woman with three small children. They were like stair steps, and all three had blond curly hair. Cute as buttons. And they smelled like sunshine and something sweet. The old me would’ve had to leave, because that would’ve been too much temptation. Today, though, I just walked right up, said hello, and I didn’t even want to lick a single one of them. Bernadette helped me with that.”
“If she helped you, why is she dead?”
“Her sacrifice is what helped me move past my silly addiction.”
“No, Andy. This is all wrong.”
“Just listen. After dinner, we came back here. Bernadette suggested we Netflix and chill. I had no idea what that meant, but I didn’t want her to think I wasn’t cool, so I said I’d rather get to know her. We talked for a couple of hours. She talked about what it was like to be so tiny. I swear, she was the tiniest person I’ve ever met. Finally, she asked about my compulsions. I was afraid to tell her, but she was so open and understanding. Bernadette truly was a kind person. I can feel her kindness inside me now.”
“I can’t do this,” Rochelle said. She looked at the frying pan. The odor of cooked human smelled surprisingly delicious. Rochelle swallowed, but then gagged a little. “You ate her?”
“Okay, calm down,” Andy said.
“Why would you do this to me? You know this is very wrong.”
“I told Bernadette that I feared I’d eat a kid one day, because I found them so delicious.” Andy grimaced. “Can’t believe I ever worried about such nonsense. Anyway, Bernadette asked if I meant like the fun eating, and I said no, because I’m not a pedophile.”
Rochelle nodded, speechless.
“Anyway, one thing led to another, and Bernadette said she really wished I’d eat her. I was like, whoa now. She got a little weird at that point. I was a little shocked when
she put my hand up her skirt. She wasn’t even wearing panties.” He blushed. “Then she pushed my fingers into her vagina and said I should try just a taste.”
“We don’t have to go over the particulars, Andy. Just tell me when you killed her and why.”
“I’m telling you,” he said. “When she pushed my head into her crotch, and told me to lick, I did. She tasted surprisingly pleasant. Have you ever—?”
“No,” Rochelle said.
“Well you should try it, because it’s quite delicious. And that was when I had an epiphany. If a person tastes that good raw, well imagine how amazing they’d be with a bit of seasoning.”
“Your reasoning is completely insane.”
“If I eat adults, then I don’t have to worry about eating kids, because I’ve satisfied the compulsion. How is that insane?”
“Oh, Andy.”
“Anyway, she didn’t fight me until she saw the knife, but I think she was just a little nervous. She calmed right down after the second or third cut.”
“No,” Rochelle guided Andy toward the table. She pushed his shoulders and he sat down. “You’ve done a very bad thing, Andy. This is murder. If Milo knew… you can’t tell him. Got it?”
Andy nodded. “But Bernadette told me to eat her. If she consented to it, how is it wrong?”
“She didn’t mean literally eat her, Andy. She was talking about cunnilingus.”
Andy sighed. “I made it clear I found her delicious.”
Rochelle took a breath. “Listen to me, Andy. This is very bad. We have to erase all traces of Bernadette from here.”
“I’m going to eat her.” He said. “So in a few weeks, there’ll be nothing left to find. Well, the bones are an issue, but I can bury those.”
“You can’t.”
“It makes me better.”
Rochelle looked at the shed again. If they cleaned up the blood, removed the obviously human pieces of meat from his fridge, no one would suspect… no. She couldn’t condone this.
But Andy was on file. She’d sent his case to a journal. He couldn’t just disappear like the others. “Oh Andy, I had such hopes for you.”
“Thanks.” He smiled.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m going to call Ozzie. Maybe Nina too. Or maybe this is too much for them. Of course it is. It’s too much for me.”
“You’re panicking. I knew you wouldn’t understand. It’s too out there for most people, but I thought you’d at least try to see the positive in the situation.”
“I’ll be fine.” Rochelle wasn’t sure if she was telling herself or Andy. “We’re going to get this place cleaned up. I need you to give me Bernadette’s cell phone. I’ll use it to text myself, so the cops believe she made it home safe and sound.”
“Why would the cops care? They don’t know what happened.”
“Because now she’s a missing person.” Rochelle couldn’t believe he was so stupid. “They can connect her with both me and you, Andy. We have to remove ourselves from the suspect list. Got it?”
“Oh.” Andy frowned. “I did a bad thing.”
“But it’s good that you’ve made steps toward leaving kids alone,” Rochelle reminded him. “Now we just have to work on not eating another human being.”
“Sorry.” Andy’s voice was a whisper again.
“Hey,” Rochelle said. “We can do this. No body, no crime, right?”
“I think so.”
“But we never speak a word of it after today. Not even to the group. Clear?”
“Yes.” Andy stood. “And never tell Milo, because he’s a cop and he’d have to do his job.”
“Right.” Rochelle ran a hand through her hair. “Besides, he’s only with us for another three weeks. Once he’s gone, me and you have some serious work to do. Until then, you’re staying at my place.”
“Why?”
“Seriously?” Rochelle pointed to the stove. “You can’t be trusted alone.”
“I can’t.”
“No.”
“So… you don’t want breakfast?”
CHAPTER 11
“I still don’t see why I have to do this fuckery again,” Ozzie wriggled in his chair. “Never works on my shit-fucked brain.”
Rochelle smiled. She’d asked Ozzie to come for a private session after leaving Andy’s house. Usually she used Andy for these things, because, although she told him he was a good soul, he had a bit of a violent side buried deep in his psyche. Obviously, accessing it had been a mistake. A very big, very messy mistake.
But Ozzie had almost no aggression in him, even if his mouth implied the contrary. She could use hypnosis to persuade him to get rid of Andy, and no one, not even Ozzie would know who’d done it.
She hoped.
Hypnosis had mixed results for Ozzie. He believed it never worked, but Rochelle knew otherwise. No matter how many times she told him he would feel no desire to swear, Ozzie’s profanity issues remained the same, but other suggestions stuck in his brain quite well. For example, when she’d told him he no longer desired Estella, Ozzie became repulsed by her presence. Their affair ended soon after, thank God. And when she’d told him that “relax” meant he’d go to sleep, he’d done so when she said the word a few days later. That was just an experiment, but it gave her an idea for later on.”
“I can’t relax enough,” Ozzie said. “No help for me.”
“Just trust me,” she took Ozzie’s hands in hers. “Sometimes it takes several sessions for a suggestion to take hold.”
“Okay, but like I said before, I can’t be hypnotized.”
He didn’t realize he was already under. Rochelle knew, because the swearing had stopped. It always stopped when he was under hypnosis. She wished it stuck when he was conscious. “Remember how we said you’d protect the group?”
“Yes.” Ozzie scratched his neck. “No matter what.”
She nodded. “Good. Andy’s become a risk we can’t afford.”
“Andy is a good person,” he said and then frowned. “He’s a good person, right?”
“He tries, but his compulsions are too strong. We need to take care of him before he hurts the rest of us.”
“How?”
She squeezed his hands. “When the first opportunity presents itself, I want you to kill him.”
“Fucking hell, woman! I can’t kill someone.”
She was disconcerted by the profanity. Maybe that was a natural reaction unrelated to his compulsion. Rochelle stroked his palm. “You can this one time. It’s for his own good.”
“Why?”
“He’s suffering.”
“That’s sad.”
“It is. You have to kill him to prevent both his suffering and everyone else’s, but wait until you’re alone, so it’ll look like an accident. Maybe invite him out for drinks. You guys still go to the bar now and then, right?”
“At a little joint near his house. Hate the people in there. They’re shifty.”
“But you will go if you have to.”
Ozzie nodded. “I will.”
“Good,” she released his hands. “Stick close to him until the time is right. When the opportunity presents itself, you will get rid of him.”
“And then what? Shit storm, that’s what.”
“No, Oz.” Obviously he was fighting her control. She never could keep him under for long. “No one will know how it happened, because you’ll make it look like an accident and then you’ll forget every detail.”
***
“Charlie got his dick stuck in the drainpipe again.” Estella’s grand entrance was not what Milo would’ve expected. Ever.
“The drain pipe?” he asked.
“Yeah, he really likes that thing. Dick-fucker,” Ozzie said.
He had no reply. Yesterday the group had taken a break. They’d met tonight and Rochelle informed everyone that Estella and Charlie were making dinner. He didn’t plan to eat said dinner, because Charlie’s obsession with his dick didn’t fill him with a whole lot of trust. He had
a hard enough time eating food prepared by others. He definitely wasn’t eating something made by someone who frequently rubbed his balls and then sniffed his fingers.
“So, where is this drainpipe and why is it Charlie’s favorite?” he finally asked.
Rochelle sighed. “There’s an old drainpipe in the kitchen next to the stove. I keep meaning to put a cap on it, but only remember when Charlie does things like this. We’ve had two months incident free. I kind of hoped we were past the drainpipe thing.”
“He’s put his dick in your pipe before?” The whole group was a shit show. He wished he could record half the conversations that took place during their sessions. Then Captain Cunt would see what he was talking about. Too bad Rochelle confiscated everyone’s phones before she let them in the living room.
“He’s put his dick in almost every hole in this house,” Nina said.
“Including yours.” Estella sniffed.
“Jealous?”
“Not really.”
“Sounds like it.”
“Because I want his nasty, dirty penis inside me after you’ve cried all over it?”
Nina laughed. “You had it in you before I had it in me.”
Fuck. They were like a big incestuous family. “Glad to know where Charlie’s dick has been. I swear, you people are the most fucked up—”
“Milo,” Rochelle warned.
“Dick stuck in pipe isn’t fucked up?” he asked. “How is it still attached to his body?”
“Almost ripped it off once” Nina said.
“Yeah, the disposal incident,” Buggy added. “Epic.”
Milo felt nauseous, and his dick hurt.
“That was after he fucked Nina the crybaby,” Estella said. “Probably wanted to erase the evidence.”
“You’re a cunt,” Nina spat.
“You’re a whore. And what?”
“Enough ladies.” Rochelle massaged her temples. “Ozzie and Milo, would you go help Charlie?”
“Um... how about no?” Milo said. “I don’t do dicks in pipes. In fact, and you should make a note, I don’t do dicks at all.”
Mad Page 11