Dead Weight

by Ragan, T. R.

  Thirty minutes later, Debra finished her story.

  It was hard for Lizzy to believe that the same woman who had been chained, cuffed at the ankle for three months, left with enough food to feed an army, but expected to ignore a ridiculous number of temptations, was sitting here now, telling Lizzy she was not only grateful for the journey but thankful to have had the opportunity.

  Despite spending thousands of dollars to be in Melbourne’s secret program, her life had not been the same since. And she insisted that was a good thing. Not only did she look terrific, she now had a thriving business and a loving fiancé.

  Debra Taphorn was happy.

  Chapter 35

  Good News and Bad News

  “I have good news and I have bad news,” Hayley told Lizzy the moment she walked into her apartment.

  “This has been the longest day of my life,” Lizzy said. “Please tell me because I couldn’t make a guess if you paid me.”

  Hayley followed Lizzy to the kitchen, talking as they went. “I have a name of a man who not only helped plan Burning Man back when Carol Fullerton disappeared, he also drove a Buick. His name is Dean Chandler. I haven’t been able to find an address or a telephone number, but I was hoping you could talk to Jared and have him run a report on the man.”

  “That is great news,” Lizzy agreed.

  “Not only that,” Hayley went on, “I also read every single one of Vivian’s journals and notes.”

  Lizzy poured herself a glass of cold water from the fridge.

  “Man, that Vivian woman likes to make notations about everything. She even writes about bugs that crawl by. And she had a lot to say about the neighbor you met.”

  Lizzy winced. “She doesn’t like that sweet old lady?”

  “Not one bit. But forget about the neighbors for now. According to Vivian’s journal, she hadn’t heard from her friend, Diane Kramer, so she drove to Diane’s house. That was over six months ago. When she arrived, Diane was getting into a car. According to Vivian’s notes, there was only one person in the car besides Diane. It was a man--a muscular man. Vivian decided to follow them. Unfortunately, an hour later, she ran out of gas and lost Diane. For weeks she was angry with her friend for leaving without telling anyone, but after failing to hear from Diane, her anger grew to concern.”

  “Damn,” Lizzy said as she put her empty glass in the sink. Believing Hayley was finished she said, “I talked to Debra Taphorn again today. She never met Diane, but she’s been through some sort of crazy secret weight program of Melbourne’s. Although this is all to be kept confidential, she paid thousands of dollars to be cuffed and chained at the ankle for three months. I guess Melbourne hand picks the people for his program. He takes them to a secluded mountain cabin complete with treadmill, kitchen, and enough food to last a dozen people for months.”

  “It’s a weight loss thing, right?”

  Lizzy nodded.

  “Then why all the food?”

  “According to Debra, he wants his clients to learn to live with the temptations. Debra said it worked for her. Although she was scared at times, she’s glad she did it.”

  “Are you going to call the police?”

  “No. Not yet. Melbourne hasn’t admitted to anything and Debra has no idea what direction they were going when they took her to the cabin. She did see a sign for some sort of lodge. There were flowers painted on the sign. I asked her to draw a picture, but do you have any idea how many lodges there are in California? Anyhow, after the sign with the flowers, they made an immediate right. It was all long and winding roads after that. North, south, east, I have no idea where to start.” Lizzy sighed. “I feel helpless. Diane Kramer has been missing for too long. If she was a part of the program, why hasn’t she come home? And now Vivian is missing too. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Well, you haven’t heard the good news yet.”

  “Give it to me.”

  “Vivian wrote down the name of the highway. They were headed east on Interstate 80. Vivian made it as far as Gold Run, past Colfax.”

  Lizzy’s phone vibrated and she picked it up.

  “Lizzy, it’s me, Jessica.”

  “Thank God. Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been to hell and back. I want a raise.”

  ***

  It was early the next morning when all three of them, Lizzy, Hayley and Jessica, sat in the front room in Lizzy’s apartment. They all looked equally haggard—complete with puffy eyes and pale faces.

  Last night, Hayley and Lizzy had driven for hours in order to meet with Jessica. After hearing what had happened to her, Lizzy didn’t want Jessica driving home alone. Hayley had driven Lizzy’s rental car back while Lizzy and Jessica followed behind in the Honda. They returned to the apartment after three in the morning and all three of them found it hard to sleep, thus the early morning meeting.

  Jessica passed around orange juice that nobody bothered drinking.

  Dean Chandler, the man who had picked Carol Fullerton up on the highway over twenty years ago, was sitting in jail in Kern County for kidnapping Jessica. Although Jessica wasn’t keen on pressing charges, especially after getting the chance to talk to Carol in person and hearing about her reasons for running away, she had agreed with Lizzy to start the process until they knew exactly what was going on.

  Apparently, Carol had not met Dean Chandler until that same fateful day she disappeared. Why Dean felt the need to kidnap Jessica made no sense to Lizzy. Carol tried to explain to Jessica that her husband had panicked. Dean and Carol had been hiding for so long, that the idea of being found out was beyond his reasoning at the time.

  Ellen Woodson, it turned out, had been keeping Carol’s secret for a very long time. Ellen, being a good friend, maybe too good considering her own life seemed to have suffered because of her secret, vowed never to tell anyone of Carol’s whereabouts. The two women had been corresponding with one another on a regular basis for over twenty years.

  Jessica sat down and was now looking through the pictures Hayley had stolen from Frank’s home office. She grunted and huffed as she sifted through the photos, one at a time. “Poor Carol,” she said.

  “Did Ruth admit that she knew what was going on?” Hayley asked.

  Lizzy shook her head. “She didn’t admit to anything, but she knew what was going on. No matter what, she knew enough. She’s in denial. Either way, their time is up. I need to hand these pictures over to the police and let them take care of Frank.”

  Lizzy looked at Jessica. “Did you tell Carol that her mother was dying and wanted to see her?”

  Jessica nodded. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve never seen such raw hatred before; almost as if all the bad stuff that went on had happened to Carol only yesterday.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Hayley said. “It doesn’t sound like Ruth Fullerton deserves to see her daughter one last time.”

  “My first time solving a real case,” Jessica said, “and I feel like crap for doing it. Some things are better left dead and buried.”

  “I don’t agree,” Lizzy said. “Nothing but good comes from letting out the truth, or seeing the truth in Ruth’s case. I still hope Carol will say goodbye to her mom and give herself closure, too. After she does that, she and Dean should be able to go on with their lives without hiding from the world. It couldn’t have been easy for either of them...hiding for so long.”

  Disgusted, Jessica put the pictures away and was now staring at her iPhone, the one the police had retrieved from Dean Chandler. “Did you see the newest headline this morning in the Sac Bee?” Jessica asked.

  Both Lizzy and Hayley shook their heads.

  “Some guy named Peter was arrested on drug and sex trafficking charges. They found him after he went on a wild rampage beating every hooker he could get his hands on. Apparently someone used some sort of hot iron to carve letters into his chest and he was not happy about it.”

  “What was on his chest? Some sort of cryptic message?” Hayley asked. />
  “No, not cryptic at all. The message was straightforward and to the point: Sick Fuck.”

  Lizzy pointed a finger at Jessica. “I wonder if it was that same guy you found on the Internet. The man on the street corner who was caught on video?”

  Jessica shook her head. “Two different instances. This Peter incident happened at least a week before the one we witnessed on the Internet. In fact, the reporter mentions both incidents.” She looked straight at Hayley and said, “He thinks Sacramento has a Seeker of Revenge on its hands.”

  Chapter 36

  Exercise Can Be Deadly

  Lizzy didn’t feel good about leaving Hayley and Jessica in her apartment alone, just the two of them, but she didn’t have much choice. Besides, they looked as if they were warming up to one another. Truthfully, neither of them talked to the other any longer, which Lizzy figured was a good start.

  For days now Lizzy had been meaning to stop by her sister’s house and let her know she wouldn’t be working out every morning. But once again that would have to wait. First, she planned to have a long talk with Melbourne and Jane. She had tried to do things Andrea’s way, but following Melbourne around wasn’t getting them anywhere. And clearly, Andrea wasn’t being truthful with her.

  It was time to sit down with Melbourne and ask the same questions the police had probably already asked him. Diane Kramer and Vivian Hardy could be in danger and it was time for Melbourne to fess up.

  It was seven in the morning.

  The rest of Melbourne’s posse usually arrived around seven thirty, even though class didn’t start until eight.

  There were two cars parked outside, she noticed as she made her way to the front entrance. She walked inside. It was eerily quiet. The lights in the gym and the equipment had yet to be turned on. “Hello?” she called out.

  Nobody answered. She felt a prickling unease starting at the back of her neck. Something was very wrong. Listening for any sound at all, she reached over her shoulder, feeling for her Glock. She unsnapped the strap and pulled out her gun.

  Pressing onward, she walked slowly in the direction of Melbourne’s office. About ten feet in front of his office was Jane’s desk...and blood, lots of blood. Lizzy took a few steps backwards so that she could peer into the gym, looking for movement in the shadows, making sure nobody was hiding in the dark.

  Convinced nobody was hiding in the gym, she took a closer look at the blood on the floor. From the looks of it, something had been dragged across the blood and into Melbourne’s office. Following the bloody path, she walked slowly through the open door and blew out some built-up tension at the horrid sight before her.

  Anthony Melbourne lay dead on the floor. Jane was dead, too, her head resting against his chest.

  Lizzy examined the room. There was a closet. Her heart beat faster.

  She took quiet steps toward the closet door.

  With her gun readied, she used her left hand to pull open the door. The door knob hit the wall with a bang.

  The closet was empty.

  Turning back to the gruesome sight, she guessed that Melbourne had been in his office, perhaps sitting at his desk, when the killer walked in. From the looks of it, he came to his feet right before he was bludgeoned with one of two marble book ends that now lay on the floor in the corner of the room. He’d also been stabbed multiple times in every part of his body. The killer had made use of every utensil he or she could find in Melbourne’s office. His engraved letter opener protruded from his left eye, the M on the handle clearly visible. A pencil had been stabbed through his neck. Every picture on his wall was either cracked or had been tossed in the garbage. And then there was Jane, lying in his arms.

  Lizzy’s gaze followed the bloody path back out Melbourne’s office door. When somebody walked through the front entrance of the gym, the first desk they came to, before arriving at Melbourne’s office door, was Jane’s.

  Jane must have arrived just as the killer was done with Melbourne. The killer didn’t waste any time finishing Jane off, too. Jane’s purse lay in the middle of the floor next to the biggest blood stain near her desk. Jane hadn’t had time to put her purse away. She was taken down before she could figure out what was going on.

  After the killer left, Jane must have dragged herself into Melbourne’s office where she died with her head resting against his shoulder, tucked innocently in the crook of his arm as if they were both just taking a nap.

  Lizzy walked back to where Jane’s purse lay and noticed a cell phone inside. Jane could have called 911. Instead, she chose to spend her last moments in Melbourne’s arms.

  It dawned on Lizzy then.

  She knew the killer personally. Her head snapped up and she looked outside toward the parking lot. “Andrea,” she said. “You bitch.”

  ***

  After calling Detective Roth and waiting for him to arrive at the crime scene, Lizzy spent the next two hours answering questions. She told Roth she would either be at home or he could reach her on her cell if the police had further questions.

  Lizzy drove as fast she could. She had filled up the shiny new Cadillac with gas and now she was making calls as she went.

  She called Jessica first. “Jessica, I’m headed east on Interstate 80 toward Nevada. Is Hayley there?”

  “No. She said she was going out to get something to eat but that was hours ago. She hasn’t come back. Where have you been? I thought you were coming back to the apartment this afternoon.”

  “I went to the gym to have a talk with Melbourne and Jane. They’re both dead. Murdered.”

  Jessica gasped.

  “I need you to do me a favor, Jessica. There are pictures on my desk in my bedroom. Hand drawn pictures of a lodge with flowers painted on it, daisies, I think. The actual sign is four feet by four feet. The problem is I don’t know the name of the lodge. I need you to get on the computer and do a search, find anything at all that looks like the picture on my desk. If you find something, I need you to call me back on my cell. It could be life or death.”

  “Okay,” Jessica said. “Anything else I can do?”

  “Detective Roth should be coming by to pick up the pictures of Frank and Carol Fullerton. I need you to give him the envelope.”

  “Does he know how the pictures were obtained?” Jessica asked.

  “No. And at this point I don’t see any reason why we should tell him. If he asks, just tell him you have no idea.”

  “Lizzy, I know you probably need to go, but I’ve wanted to talk to you about Hayley. I’m worried about her.”

  “So am I,” Lizzy said. “So am I. But there isn’t a whole lot we can do today. Let’s help one person at a time. I’m afraid Vivian Hardy could be in a lot of trouble.”

  “What about Diane Kramer?”

  “If I can find Vivian, I’m hoping Diane is there, too. Just keep your fingers crossed and call me if you find anything.”

  ***

  Hayley pulled over to the side of the road. She looked at her map. X marked the spot. She was close. Very close. A left on Hickory and then one more right turn and she would arrive at her final destination.

  Tonight was the night.

  For months, Hayley had been planning for this night.

  The other guys she visited had deserved more than they got, but Brian would pay the ultimate price for all of them. Brian would pay for what he had done to her and her mother.

  Hayley’s gaze fell on her nine fingers gripped to the steering wheel of Jessica’s car. She looked at the stub where her tenth finger used to be and realized she rarely gave Spiderman a first or second thought. Her therapist, the lady Lizzy insisted she talk to on a regular basis, was convinced that the missing digit was a constant reminder of that time in Hayley’s life. But the missing digit didn’t bother Hayley at all. It was the feelings within, the hidden mental shit that nobody could see, that made Hayley feel as if she might go crazy if she didn’t find an outlet for the pent up anger she held inside. Her anger had nothing to do with Spiderm
an or her missing pinky finger and had everything to do with Brian. He was a cold bloodless creature who deserved to die.

  Brian had taken her body, her spirit, and had destroyed the essence of her humanity. Years ago, Hayley had sought help at a rape crisis center. The woman who had greeted her and taken her in was kind and patient. She was pleased by Hayley’s ability to acknowledge the hurt and anger she felt toward her assailant. Hayley had spent two weeks talking with other rape victims. Ninety percent of the girls believed it was inappropriate to have feelings of hatred and vindictiveness for their assailant. These girls were trapped in a world of guilt that made no sense to Hayley. The people at the center were not aware that Hayley’s nightmare was ongoing...a weekly, if not daily, ritual.

  Hayley was sure she would never stop seeing Brian’s face hovering above hers: his breathing uneven, his stench unbearable. Even back then, Hayley knew how this would end. She just hadn’t known when it would happen.

  Until now. It was time.

  She inhaled deeply as she merged back onto the street.

  She had left Lizzy’s apartment hours ago. After finding the brown paper bag taped under the bench at Marshal Park, she’d sat and waited for the sun to set. Lizzy and Jessica had been calling her all day, forcing her to turn off her cell phone. She had work to do.

  Despite the hour, there were a few lost souls wandering the streets. No gangs hanging out tonight. No Bloods or Crips on the street corner looking for trouble.

  The less people, the better.

  She made a left off of Florin. On the corner there was a two-story apartment building that looked abandoned. She made a right on Alita Road: a row of track homes with unkempt yards, broken windows, and graffiti.

  There it was.