Hillary_Flesh and Blood

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Hillary_Flesh and Blood Page 29

by Angel Gelique


  “Call it in, Bethany,” Adam said, “call Tom and tell him to check out the area. Tell him what happened. I’ll drive....”

  He looked over at Laura, not recalling the name Bethany had called her just moments ago.

  “Laura,” she said, “Laura Dempsey.”

  Adam nodded.

  “I’ll drive Laura home then head up to the woods.”

  As Bethany contacted Thomas Cafaro, Adam led Laura to his police vehicle and opened the door for her. On the way to her house, he got more specific details about Hillary’s reputation and the exact location in the woods where she had tried to kill Laura. After dropping her off, he spoke with Mrs. Dempsey for a while, assuring her that Laura was safe and sound and didn’t seem to require medical attention. Then he drove to the lot in the woods where Laura had just escaped from. As he exited his car, Tom Cafaro pulled into the parallel spot on his right.

  After shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, Adam filled him in on everything Laura had informed him. Tom, in turn, told Adam all of the latest developments, including the findings from the coroner’s report.

  Adam shook his head in disgust as he heard about details of the stabbing and slashing and how the one particular baby had been abused.

  “Are you saying you think a girl did this? A teen-aged girl?” Tom asked skeptically.

  “According to Laura Dempsey, a girl named Hillary Greyson.”

  “Maybe she’s working with someone.”

  Tom could not fathom that a young girl could be capable of such horrors. When they reached the old, splintered picnic table, it was quiet. They searched the ground and surrounding areas. All that they found was the washcloth that Hillary had left behind. Tom carefully bagged it as evidence. There was no sign of Hillary.

  Hillary was fuming. There was no way she was going to jail because of that bitch Laura. After she had recovered from the debilitating cramp, she walked back to the picnic table and grabbed her knapsack and the bottle of chloroform she had left by the trees. She half-walked half-jogged back to her house as quickly as possible. She knew Laura would snitch on her. It was just a matter of time before the cops would be knocking on her door. They were in for a shock.

  Hillary ran up to the bathroom to change the bloody pad in her underwear. She grabbed some more sanitary napkins and threw them into her bag. She made a quick stop to her room and grabbed a light jacket and two tee shirts. She then ran down to the kitchen. On her way down the stairs, Kathy called to her. She mumbled some garbled thing about Caleigh and began to laugh. Hillary stared at her in disgust. Her face was reddened and blotchy from permanent tissue damage. She was a mess.

  Yep, Hillary thought, she lost it.

  In the kitchen, Hillary grabbed a plastic grocery store shopping bag and filled it with a jar of peanut butter, some crackers, a small box of cereal and as many water bottles as she could carry. She had been indecisive about whether to hide out in the woods or drive her mother’s car somewhere. She finally opted to hide out in the woods. She wasn’t an experienced driver and didn’t know where she would go anyway. She knew the woods, though, like a second home. She knew some great hiding spots where she was sure no one would find her. It was the best choice.

  Within fifteen minutes, Hillary was out the door, struggling to carry her overstuffed knapsack and the heavy shopping bag. She walked past the first trail, past the foul-smelling clearing and alcove full of scavenging predators, past the second and third trails and continued to a fourth, narrower footpath hidden by overgrown foliage and brush. She had been hiking for what seemed like hours when she heard the echo of male voices from a distant location. Hillary knew they were looking for her. She would never be able to go home again.

  Her pocket—or rather, the cell phone within it—began to vibrate. She pulled it out and stared at the unfamiliar number.

  The cops, she thought, and she was right. She placed the phone back in her pocket and stayed hidden.

  It was one of them, at least, though he didn’t know for sure who he was calling. Thomas Cafaro had received a list of all the recent incoming and outgoing calls from Jacqueline’s cell phone. He was in the process of identifying the phone numbers. When Hillary ignored the call, it went to her voicemail:

  Hi, it’s Hillary...leave a message....

  Tom nodded. Hillary Greyson was definitely involved somehow. But who else? A voice called to him over his radio.

  “Yeah, go ahead Adam.”

  “All clear on this end, she’s long gone.”

  “Okay, call it off, I’m gonna check out her home, talk to her parents.”

  “Copy that,” Adam replied and he and the three other officers throughout the area discontinued searching the woods.

  Within minutes, Tom had the address for the Greyson residence. He stood outside the front door fifteen minutes later. He knew before ringing the doorbell that something wasn’t right. A putrid smell hung in the air. It was a smell he knew all too well in his line of work. It was an odor consistent with that of a decomposing body. It was the stench of death. Before ringing the doorbell, he radioed for backup.

  Knowing that assistance would arrive within minutes, should he need it, Tom rang the bell.

  “Police,” he announced, “please open the door.”

  The door remained shut. Tom turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. He briefly thought about securing a search warrant, but given the exigent circumstances, he felt it was appropriate to enter. He kept his hand on his holstered pistol as he opened the door and stepped into the foyer.

  “Police...is anyone home?”

  It was silent at first and then he heard the moaning. Someone was hurt. He walked forward. The moaning grew. He continued walking slowly another few yards before he saw Kathy’s body slumped forward at the bottom of the stairs.

  He radioed for an ambulance as he crouched down and assessed Kathy’s injuries. He estimated that she had been there for quite some time. He could smell the urine and something else too...bleach. He correctly guessed, based on her splotchy facial pigment and irritation, that she had been doused with bleach. He could see that her leg was badly broken. There was a long gash on her face and...and....

  Tom couldn’t believe his eyes. He brought his head closer to the left side of Kathy’s head, then the right side. The woman had no ears.

  “What kind of monster—” Tom began softly.

  “Joshy!” Kathy screamed out, startling him, “Joshy!”

  “Who’s Joshy, Ma’am?” Tom asked loudly unsure whether Kathy could even hear him. “Did Joshy do this to you?”

  Kathy was crying, calling out Joshua’s name repeatedly.

  “Do you know Hillary?” Tom asked loudly, close to her head.

  Kathy’s eyes widened. She looked terrified.

  “Hillary!” she shouted, “no, Hillary. Noooooooooo. NOOOOOOOOO....”

  Tom placed his hand on Kathy’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Ma’am. Mrs. Greyson?”

  Kathy nodded then began sobbing loudly.

  “Is Hillary upstairs?”

  Kathy shook her head.

  “Caleigh...Caaaallleeeiiggghhhhh....” she wept.

  “Do you know where Hillary is?”

  Kathy continued sobbing heavily.

  “Mrs. Greyson,” Tom said loudly into the spot where her ear should have been, “do you know where Hillary is?”

  Kathy shook her head as she continued to cry.

  “Did she do this? Did Hillary do this to you?”

  Kathy nodded.

  Tom could hear the backup officers outside. A female officer, Deborah Rigby, was the first to join him. She winced when she saw Kathy’s face and the blood all over her clothing.

  “Maybe you can bring Mrs. Greyson a glass of water,” Tom suggested.

  Officer Rigby nodded as she found her way into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Bobbi Sutton’s dead corpse on the floor.

  “We’ve got one down in here,” she yelled then stepped toward the kitchen si
nk and froze once more. She let out a shrill scream, covered her face with her hands and looked away from Joshua’s desecrated head. Tom was beside her seconds later. He didn’t have to ask her what was wrong. Repulsed, he slowly inched toward the head.

  Just a baby, he thought, and puked on the kitchen floor in front of his feet. It made him think of his six-year-old son.

  Tom hadn’t been on the job very long compared to some of the other officers but he considered himself a fairly seasoned cop. He had seen many atrocities. This was the first one that compelled him to vomit. Feeling embarrassed, he turned and left the kitchen.

  Joshy, he remembered Mrs. Greyson saying. I think I’ve found Joshy....

  The ambulance arrived a few minutes later. Two horrified paramedics examined Kathy. They both agreed, based on her blood pressure and vital signs that she was in shock and needed immediate medical attention. They placed her on the gurney, careful not to inflict further damage to her mutilated leg. She was back to moaning and muttering jumbled words.

  Tom, Officer Rigby and a third officer, Jonathan Seravini, made their way upstairs together. The smell was strong and pungent. It led them straight to Caleigh’s room.

  “Oh, God!” Officer Rigby exclaimed, and excused herself to find a bathroom.

  “You’re saying a little girl did this?” Officer Seravini asked skeptically, as he stared disgustedly at Caleigh’s tortured face.

  “She’s involved,” Tom said with a nod, “that’s for sure.”

  He didn’t blame Officer Rigby for fleeing the room. He wanted to turn and run right of the house altogether. But he had a job to do. The two officers went from room to room gathering evidence and searching for Joshua’s body. It wasn’t until much later that night after Chief Carragher arrived when they pieced together the ghastly mystery of his whereabouts. Parts of him were in the basement, the rest in the pot in the kitchen.

  Tom thought he had gotten a grip after recovering from seeing the severed head. He was wrong. Whatever was left in his stomach spilled to the kitchen floor nearby his earlier pile of barf. Embarrassed, he apologized to the Chief.

  “I understand, son,” he said empathetically, “I don’t blame you a bit...these things aren’t supposed to happen in a quiet small town like this.”

  The Chief patted his colleague on the shoulder as he fought to keep his own lunch down.

  No, such things should never happen anywhere...nor should young girls ever commit such heinous acts.

  Nor should young girls ever be hurt the way Hillary was hurt, or exposed to the activities she was forced to endure.

  Shivering in the chilly night, Hillary called out to the voice of reason.

  “What now?” she whispered nervously...”what do I do now?”

  She waited for guidance from her trusted friend. The voice was silent.

  “What now?” Hillary cried softly, feeling betrayed. She didn’t know how she would get out of this mess. She would just have to hide out, lay low. Maybe they’d think she’d moved on, hitchhiked a ride somewhere far away. Maybe they would leave her alone and she could finally go home again.

  Hillary felt the cold raindrops begin to fall, pelting her face like the lashes of a whip. She pulled up the hood of her light jacket, cursing the weathergirl for being right. She felt small under the towering trees as she sat with her knees pulled up to her chin. She no longer felt powerful and mighty sitting there, shivering. Dusk was turning to darkness. She welcomed the mask of night to hide her shame.

  ~19~

  The hours seemed to pass even slower than the days. Hillary was running out of supplies. She had been good about rationing her food and water, or so she had thought. She didn’t know how much longer she could hide like a frightened puppy. Her cell phone was losing its charge despite the fact that she had only used it to check the time and date. She had turned off Jax’s cell phone to preserve the battery life. She had been tempted to reach out to Maddie, but wanted to wait a little longer. Once Laura had escaped everything had gone downhill. She rightfully deduced that by now the cops had discovered all of her victims and were actively searching for her.

  After six cold, sleepless nights full of hunger, rage, boredom and frustration, Hillary was ready to make a move. It had been at least two days since she heard any activity in the woods. Even the helicopters no longer flew over searching for her. Hillary convinced herself that the cops had given up on finding her. They had to believe that she was long gone...that she had gotten away. Why else hadn’t they found her?

  Hillary sliced the back of her hand with one of the knife blades as she carelessly reached into the knapsack to grab Jax’s cell phone. Without thinking, without caring, she cursed and screamed and had a full-blown fit of anger. She was hungry and irritable and couldn’t take another moment going stir crazy. She needed a change of scenery, to stretch her limbs, to go for a walk, to kill someone...and that someone was Maddie Woodmere.

  As she turned on the cell phone, she wondered how she would convince Maddie to meet her. Surely she must have heard about Jax and Laura, not to mention her family members. What if she contacted Maddie and Maddie, in turn, contacted the police? She had to make sure that she didn’t get set up...but how?

  Jax’s phone notified her through a series of loud tones that she had missed six calls and had received eleven messages while her phone was off. Five of the calls were from numbers she didn’t recognize. One of them was from a boy Hillary knew, Benjamin Krzyzewski. Hillary wondered why he’d be calling her at all, let alone after she had died. Perhaps he hadn’t heard.

  Pacing the narrow strip with Jax’s phone in her hand, it took Hillary less than a minute to come up with a plan. She hoped that her opinion of Maddie as a dim-witted bimbo was accurate. She located Maddie’s contact information then began drafting a text message to her:

  I need ur help

  Hillary waited for a reply. Moments later, Jax’s phone began to ring. It was Maddie. Hillary muted the ringer then sent another message to Maddie.

  Can’t talk...in trouble...don’t tell anyone

  After a short pause, Maddie’s reply came through:

  WTF who is this?

  Hillary rolled her eyes in frustration.

  Jax...don’t have much time, need ur help

  U can’t be Jax is dead

  They only think I’m dead I need u

  Whats going on?

  I accidentally burned my house down

  Everyone’s saying it was hillary

  Hillary’s dead it’s her body they found not me

  Laura said Hillary tried to kill her

  Maddie u have to help me...plz

  Where r u?

  Are u gonna help me?

  Why are u in trouble?

  I killed my sisters and hillary, I’ll go to jail

  What happened?

  The candles

  U won’t go to jail if it was an accident

  Plz maddie im hungry

  Where r u?

  Can I trust u?

  I’m your friend

  Will you bring me food n water?

  Yeh...where?

  Hillary took a moment to consider her options before replying. Did she really want to take such a risk?

  Woods, by picnic table.

  K. when?

  20 minutes.

  Can be there in 30

  Hurry plz

  K

  Hillary sighed heavily hoping that she had made the right choice. She was hungry, she needed food. More importantly, Laura had gotten away from her, she didn’t want Maddie to get away too and keep living her charmed life. She didn’t deserve it.

  Hillary gathered her belongings. It was time to take a walk. She slowly made her way to the old red picnic table. She walked cautiously, feeling paranoid as she constantly looked over her shoulder. Each noise she heard made her heart stop. By the time she reached her destination, she was feeling confident. She was even humming quietly.

  She knew she would have to wait a while for Mad
die to show up. She hid within the dense cover of the trees and thicket. She kept her knapsack over her shoulders. She had Jax’s phone in her pocket and the long carving knife in her hand. She had left the shopping bag and the garbage in it at her last hideout. She would return there when she was done. For now she had to be patient and wait.

  Maddie wasn’t quite the bimbo that Hillary had banked on. Not quite. After she had ended communication with “Jax,” she called the number she had seen on television, the phone number to report any information about Jax or Hillary. She was immediately connected to an agent named Alan Langford.

  “I...I just received a text message from someone claiming to be Jax...uh, Jacqueline Montgomery,” she stated.

  “What is your name, Miss?”

  “Maddie Woodmere,” Maddie replied, “the messages were coming from Ja—Jacqueline’s phone.”

  “What did the person say?”

  “She—or he, I guess—wants me to meet them by the picnic table in the woods.”

  “Tell me everything they told you, don’t leave out any details, even if you think it’s not important.”

  Maddie told Agent Langford everything that she and “Jax” had texted to one another. She was very specific. If it was really Jax, she’d understand.

  “Okay, Maddie, here’s what I want you to do. You’re gonna meet with her like she wants. Don’t worry, we’ll be there, just—”

  Maddie didn’t hear the rest, there was static on the line.

  “Wait, so go there? To the picnic table in the woods?”

  “Yes, Maddie, just where she wants you to meet her. You’ll be doing us a big favor. And don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.”

  Maddie felt a little apprehensive about meeting “Jax.” Her gut feeling correctly warned her that it wasn’t Jax at all. She knew she was being used as bait. It was a bit exciting as well. Would she be a hero? Would she get a medal? Would she be on TV? Her excitement over the prospect of enjoying a moment in the limelight overshadowed her fear. She mustered up the strength and courage to go through with it. Besides, she told herself, federal agents would be watching her...protecting her.

 

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