Mania - A Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries Book 9)

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Mania - A Thriller (Jon Stanton Mysteries Book 9) Page 16

by Victor Methos


  “I loved her,” Dale said. “I loved her so much. She was my first, Jon. From the minute I saw her when your family moved in, to those last moments of her life, I loved her.”

  Stanton spat a glob of blood and phlegm. “How did she die?”

  “I didn’t want her to die. I wanted her to live, but she kept fighting me. And that son of a bitch Carter couldn’t help himself. He started torturing her, real bad stuff. He wasn’t a good man. I couldn’t very well let her go, so I had to do something.” He paused. “It was painless, if that’s what you’re worried about. As painless as death could be. I wrapped a plastic bag around her head and she suffocated.”

  Stanton felt as though he might vomit. He swallowed, a torrent of blood going down his throat from the loose tooth at the front of his mouth. It made him sick, but he didn’t show it. He just looked up, into Dale’s eyes, and at the gun pointed at his chest. “My father was your friend, Dale. This destroyed him. He never recovered. How could you do that to him?”

  “Yeah, that wasn’t somethin’ I wanted to do. Your daddy was an asshole sometimes, but he was my best friend for many years. I guess that’s what love does to you. You don’t care about who else it hurts.”

  “That wasn’t love. Love is mutual, and my sister was disgusted by you.”

  “Now you watch your damn mouth. She loved me and I loved her.”

  “You were her rapist and murderer. She loathed you. Just like that little girl you have now loathes you. Like you would loathe a worm.”

  Stanton could see the emotion emanating from the man’s eyes as he grew more upset. His hand started to tremble.

  “Shut your damn mouth!”

  “None of them have loved you. Not your wife, not your son, none of the girls. You wanna know why, Dale? Because you’re unlovable. You’re ugly inside and out, and no one could ever wanna be with you willingly.”

  “Shut your mouth!”

  Dale lifted the weapon. Stanton jumped at him. The gun went off, but Stanton had him. He wrapped his arms around him and leaned back against the balcony railing. Dale writhed, trying to lift the gun, but Stanton had a good close grip and neither one of them could move much.

  “Niles!” Dale shouted. “Help, son. Get the gun, shoot him!”

  Stanton said, “No, Dale. We die together today.”

  Stanton hopped up and wrapped both legs around Dale’s hips, pulling him back. The weight of both men flung them over the railing. Stanton’s world spun: lights then sky, lights then sky. He held tightly to Dale, who was screaming, but Stanton wasn’t afraid. He had known it was going to come to this eventually.

  The impact against the water felt like hitting a brick wall. The pool exploded, and suddenly Stanton couldn’t breathe and was surrounded by darkness. But Dale was, too. He was underneath him, struggling to get to the surface. Stanton wrapped his legs around Dale Brown, and held him there.

  Dale clawed at his face, at his arms and his body. The clawing burned Stanton’s flesh, but he didn’t let go. Not until there was no movement. No thrashing, no clawing… nothing but stillness.

  Stanton let him go and floated to the surface, never taking his eyes off the body underneath him that drifted in the dark and then disappeared into deeper waters.

  42

  Stanton sat in the back of an ambulance, watching the red and blue lights flicker outside. The media had arrived as well, and he saw several news vans outside. Huddled with numerous detectives and paramedics was a young girl they had found in the trunk of a car. Stanton sat up and stepped onto the pavement. He leaned against the ambulance and watched the girl. She was maybe thirteen, maybe younger, brunette with large eyes like Elizabeth. In the dim lights casting shadows, he thought she was Elizabeth and actually took a step forward to go to her. But a police cruiser pulling away illuminated her for a moment, and he saw that it wasn’t her.

  Katie came to stand next to him. She looked at the gunshot wound on his forearm. The paramedics had insisted he go to the hospital, but he refused. Not until he saw the girl was safe.

  “Was it worth it?” Katie said. “Was knowing the truth worth all this?”

  Stanton watched as someone hugged the young girl, and they cried, held in each other’s embrace.

  “Yes,” he said. “It was worth it.”

  EPILOGUE

  The sun broke over the horizon as the plane landed on the tarmac. Stanton hadn’t been able to sleep on the flight, though he felt as though if his head hit the pillow at home, he could sleep for a thousand years. His arm ached, his face ached, and a migraine was coming, but he’d never felt this good in his adult life. He felt light, and his mind wasn’t racing as it usually was. He wasn’t thinking about work, about the darkness that was always there just underneath the veneer of society—waiting, always waiting.

  All Stanton saw was the ocean and the sunshine, and nothing else mattered.

  He retrieved his Jeep from long-term parking and hit the freeway. Without the top, the sun poured in, and it didn’t feel as though the last week had even happened. It felt like some dream he’d just woken up from. Or maybe this was the dream, and the fear that he would sleep again and go back to the gray and the dark tightened his guts.

  He almost went home, but he remembered.

  He got off on the next exit and within twenty minutes was at Good Friends Pet Care. The clerk behind the counter smiled at him and said, “Oh, we have someone who misses you.”

  Hanny was let out of his pen, and the clerk walked him in on a leash. The dog leapt forward, breaking free from the clerk, and jumped on Stanton. Stanton paid, and the two of them went outside. He put him in the Jeep and regretted not having the crate with him. He petted the dog, who licked his hand.

  “I missed you, buddy,” Stanton said.

  The dog’s eyes were pure. Innocent. No hint of malice or sadism. Stanton put his arm around him… and began to weep. The tears flowed easily, and he didn’t fight them. He held on to Hanny and let them come.

  The dog let him cry, resting his head on Stanton’s shoulder. After a few moments, Hanny licked his face, and Stanton wiped the tears away.

  “Let’s go home, buddy.”

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  Copyright 2015 Victor Methos

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  License Statement

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy.

  Please note that this is a work of fiction. Any similarity to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All events in this work are purely from the imagination of the author and are not intended to signify, represent, or reenact any event in actual fact.

 

 

 
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