by Jeramy Gates
Maddie’s balance shifted unexpectedly in the chair, and she slipped. The sweat had made her body slippery, allowing her thighs to glide along the seat of the chair in a way they couldn’t before. This slight change caused Maddie to lose her balance, and she fell backwards.
The chair legs thumped to the floor and the back of the chair smacked the edge of the table. The entire table made a groaning sound as it skidded across the tiles. Maddie moaned, and tears filled her eyes.
That’s it, she thought. Now they’ll come kill me.
A dark shape appeared in the doorway. She raised her eyes to lock gazes with Loki. He stared at her, blinking, still half-asleep. Maddie stared back, uncertain, anticipating the worst. She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what was about to happen. She tried to rein in her terror through meditation.
Go somewhere else, she thought. You know how this works. Find a place where he can’t go; a place where you can’t feel anything…
She winced as Loki stepped around her to the kitchen counter. She heard shuffling noises, the tiny clinking sounds of metal keys, the unmistakable whooshing sound of a blade being drawn from the chopping block. Loki moved, and Maddie felt the cold steel tip of a knife pressed up against her cheek. She opened her eyes, blinking as the drops of sweat blurred her vision. Loki narrowed his eyebrows, and put a finger to his lips.
He made a quiet shushing noise and then stepped back, displaying her boning knife in his right hand. In the other hand, he held a set of keys. The Mercedes keys. Loki stepped around her and very quietly opened the back door. He stepped out onto the patio and pulled the door shut behind him.
Moments later, the car started in the driveway. Maddie fought the urge to vomit as the sound of the engine faded into the distance. Then, all at once, silence crashed down… except for the deep rumble of Odin’s snoring.
Chapter 16
“Riley, is there something different about you?” Jackie said the moment she entered the office of the Herald.
Riley was standing at the copy machine by the north wall, and he tensed up the moment he heard her voice. He hadn’t been looking forward to talking to Jackie. He’d been planning to avoid her by leaving the office early, before Jackie returned from her Wednesday college classes.
“We need to talk,” she said, approaching him.
Riley frowned. He had a bad feeling about what she was about to say. The last time they had spoken over the phone, Jackie had claimed to have discovered some big “secret” about Valkyrie. Riley suspected he knew what that was. After all, he had seen her numerous IDs and badges with his own eyes. Yet even though he knew that something about Val wasn’t on the up and up, some part of him didn’t want to know what that was. He liked her. Maybe even loved her. He wasn’t sure what the feeling was, but whatever it was, it made him want to protect her.
“Let’s talk in my office,” he said, and headed in that direction.
“I don’t believe I have ever seen you wearing your shirt un-tucked,” Jackie said as she followed him in.
Riley settled into his chair and shot her an exasperated glare. “You said on the phone that you wanted to show me something?”
“Open your email. I sent you a link.”
Riley did. The link took him to a newspaper site, the Idaho Falls Daily. “Okay, what should I be looking for?”
“Scroll down to the second article.”
Riley did, and saw the title: Local Woman Escapes Killer’s Rampage: Family Dead. He leaned closer as he scanned the article, and began reading aloud:
“Idaho Falls native Valkyrie Smith was found this morning at the bottom of a dried-up well on her family farm. According to police reports, she suffered from a devastating fall that broke her back. Ironically, it may have been the fall that saved her life. According to police, Valkyrie escaped a harrowing ordeal after being tortured and repeatedly raped over a period of several days. Tragically, Valkyrie’s husband Tom and her son Kyle did not survive the attack...”
Riley fell silent, but continued to stare at the article. He clicked on the picture of Val being hauled into an ambulance, and clearly recognized her face. He leaned back in his chair and locked gazes with Jackie.
“How did you find this?”
“I’m a reporter. That’s my job. Do you see something familiar about that crime?”
“It’s just like what happened at the Brooks place last weekend.”
“Uh-huh. Do you know what this means, Riley?”
“I don’t know… I suppose you have a theory?”
“At the end of the article, they said Valkyrie Smith was an elementary school teacher. Not a federal agent.”
“And?”
“That was five years ago. Valkyrie Smith is no fed. She has been lying to you Riley, even if you are too dense to believe it.”
Riley remembered the IDs in Val’s wallet and everything clicked neatly into place. So neat that it was a little scary. This wasn’t the kind of story Riley was used to investigating. He was used to farm reports, stolen vineyard equipment, even the occasional gang shooting, but a real life conspiracy? A female vigilante working alone to track down a serial killer? It seemed like the plot of a movie, not the… not the woman he’d just lost his virginity to.
“What are you saying? That she’s some sort of vigilante, pretending to be a fed so she can find the guy that did this to her? Do you realize how ludicrous that sounds?”
Even to Riley, his voice sounded a little too defensive. Maybe a little too shaken.
“Either that, or she’s working with him.”
Riley snorted. “Now that is ridiculous.”
Jackie put her hands on her hips. “Really? And why do you think that? Doesn’t it seem odd to you that she’s the only one who has escaped so far? That she just happened to show up here around the same time he did? Maybe she has been working with him all along!”
“So you think she’s a serial killer?”
“Not necessarily. Maybe she has Stockholm Syndrome. It’s happened before.”
“I doubt that’s the case-”
“Why, because you’re sleeping with her?”
Riley averted his gaze. He decided rather quickly not to answer that one. Jackie rolled her eyes in disgust.
“You need to call the sheriff,” she said. “He should know about this.”
“I will.”
“Then do it.” She lifted the receiver and held it out.
“Not yet. Not until I’ve looked a little deeper into all of this.”
“Deeper? Deeper than what? You have all the facts in front of you, Riley. This woman sure has you by the balls, doesn’t she?”
Riley stiffened. “That’s enough, Jackie.”
“If you don’t call the sheriff, I will.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Oh? And what are you going to do about it?”
Riley leaned forward on his elbows and locked gazes with her. “Leave it alone, if you like your job.”
Jackie’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you threatening to fire me? Who do you think you are?”
“I’m your boss,” he said flatly. “Something you seem to have forgotten lately.”
Jackie started to say something, but faltered. She spun on her heels, whipping her hair around, and stomped towards the door. “I’m going out for coffee,” she said over her shoulder. She slammed the front door on her way out. Riley leaned back in his chair, breathing deeply as he tried to catch his racing heart.
“What… did I… just do?” he mumbled.
Riley had never been the kind of man to put employees in their place. Or anyone, really. Usually, he was just grateful to have their help. And Jackie… she was a whole different story. For three years, Riley had been working with her, gazing longingly at her when she wasn’t looking, feeling like his heart was breaking every time she walked out that door. He felt something different, now. He still felt that desperate longing for her, the sheer terror that he may have driven her away for good, but on top of i
t all an overlying sense of accomplishment, as if it was the first time in his life that he’d ever stood up for himself.
It took him a moment of reflection to realize that was true. This was the first time he’d stood up for himself. Never in his life had Riley had the courage to stand up and tell someone they were wrong, that they had better do what he said or get out. The emotion was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, like riding a roller coaster that stops when it’s upside-down.
The phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Breathlessly, he lifted the receiver.
“Redwood Herald, this is Riley White speaking.”
“Riley, it’s Val. Are you in the mood for another exclusive scoop?”
The nervous tension in his gut ratcheted up a notch and he pulled open the top drawer, fumbling for the antacids. “Sure,” he said.
“Great! Write down this address. Meet me here in fifteen minutes…”
Riley took down the address and hung up. It was located at an apartment complex in Santa Rosa. He knew the place because he had considered living there once. It was a cheap, dingy, trashy sort of place where prostitutes and drug dealers lived and the sound of blaring televisions always competed with the noise of screaming babies, barking dogs, and unemployed men yelling at their girlfriends. And very often hitting them. It was the kind of place nobody ever called the cops, and even if they did, the cops rarely came.
Riley stood next to his desk, contemplating whether he trusted Valkyrie. She had given him sex, that was one thing -a big thing- but it didn’t mean he was stupid enough to believe just anything she said. He reflected on his conversation with Jackie, and considered whether she may have been right about Val. Riley doubted Valkyrie was a serial killer, but he knew for a fact she had been lying to him. Sex or no sex, that meant he couldn’t trust her. And while he wanted to believe that she was entirely noble in her efforts to tip him off, he couldn’t help wondering if this was all some sort of setup.
Riley opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pushed the files all the way to the back. He rummaged through the narrow space between them for a few seconds, and pulled out a small twenty-two caliber revolver. He held it in his hands for a moment, staring at it uncomfortably.
Riley didn’t like guns. He was opposed to them, both philosophically and morally. In fact, he had voted many times for politicians just because they had promised to get rid of the things. Not that he truly believed they could do that, or that they truly intended to, but it was the thought that counted and Riley believed every little bit might help.
Riley believed that good people shouldn’t need guns, much less want them. Yet he still had this one, this old revolver he’d inherited from his grandmother when she died nearly twenty years ago. He’d kept it mostly out of guilt, the feeling that he should hold onto the one precious thing she’d left to him, even though it was something he couldn’t stand the sight of. That was why he kept it in a drawer at work instead of at home. That way, he still had access to it, still knew it was safe, but didn’t have to worry about the thing going off accidentally and blowing his brains out while he was sitting on the toilet, or in some other humiliating situation.
Riley stuffed the revolver into the outer pocket of his long wool jacket. It was too warm, too sunny to wear the jacket, but at least he could keep the weapon close and safely concealed inside it. He locked the front door and left with his jacket hanging over his arm.
Chapter 17
Ten minutes after calling Riley, Valkyrie followed Diekmann’s old yellow truck off Highway 12 at the Sebastopol Road exit in west Santa Rosa. The area was a combination of light industrial and low-income housing, but Valkyrie noted a handful of new apartment buildings in the area as well. Their modern construction and fresh paint couldn’t rejuvenate the dilapidated neighborhood, and Val had the distinct impression that it was not a nice place to visit after dark. By the time they reached the apartment complex, two deputies and three city cops had already gathered to meet them. They parked across the street and Diekmann called a huddle.
“Barnes is long gone,” he told them, “but there’s a chance he split off from his partner, so I still want to keep a low profile. Stay quiet until we’re ready to go in. Val, stay behind until I give the all clear. I know you’re capable, but that cane might get in the way. Besides, these guys are dressed in Kevlar, so we’ll let them go first.”
“I understand,” she said.
Val had no problem letting the real cops take charge. The last thing she wanted was to get caught in the crossfire between a serial killer and a bunch of cops. Frankly, she doubted anyone would be there anyway. Not even Loki would be foolish enough to return to his own place after all that had happened.
The group separated, with the uniforms circling around behind the apartment building to cut off any escape while Diekmann and his deputies took the front door. When they were ready, Diekmann knocked and called out that he had a warrant. When there was no answer, he ordered one of the deputies to bust the door down.
The deadbolt gave way with hardly any resistance, and a horrific smell washed over them as the door flew open. Val stood back, waiting at the bottom of the stairs while the sheriff and his men searched the place. It took them all of five seconds to verify that the apartment was empty. Val took a moment to don a pair of latex gloves before she went inside. A rat scurried out of the way as she crossed the threshold.
Val blinked and caught her breath, trying not to inhale the rancid air. As her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, she saw what could only be described as a miniature city dump the size of a studio apartment. Loki -Michael Barnes- had apparently kept in that room every piece of trash he had ever created. Pizza boxes, fast food wrappers, empty corn chip bags and cola cans… the garbage was everywhere. And the entire apartment was crawling with rats.
The kitchen was no better. Trash covered the floor, littered the sink, countertops and the table. Loki had even shoved garbage into the drawers and cabinets. Valkyrie looked over the mess with disdain, suddenly quite certain that they would find nothing of use. She told Diekmann as much.
Riley showed up a few minutes later. Diekmann saw the reporter hovering in the doorway and said, “What do you think you’re doing here?”
Riley shrugged nervously. He glanced at Val, who was standing in the kitchen doorway. She smiled at him.
“My fault,” she said. “I invited him. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
Diekmann looked her up and down, and then glanced at Riley. “I suppose it’s all right, then. Don’t touch anything. And Val, next time check with me first.”
“Sorry, sheriff.”
Riley stepped inside and began snapping pictures of the trash piles. Val went back to her search, sifting through the trash in the doors and cabinets, poking through the garbage on the floor with her cane. As they worked, the rats scurried out of the way, trying to hide under the living room sofa or dashing into another pile of trash somewhere else in the room. After twenty minutes of this, the sheriff was about to give up.
“I don’t understand how he lived like this,” Diekmann said. “There’s nothing in here but trash and pornography. How does someone even survive like this?”
“They don’t for long,” Val said. “Eventually, he would have been evicted. Somebody would have complained about the smell. That would have left him homeless, or living in that van.”
“This is a waste of time. I’m going to go interview his supervisor at the high school. Care to come along?”
“Absolutely.”
They brushed past Riley on the way out the door. When he saw Valkyrie leaving, he opened his mouth to say something, and then decided against it.
“What is it?” she said.
“Nothing. We need to talk later. I’ll call you.”
“Sure.”
Val wasn’t sure what to think about Riley. He had been acting strange that morning, and even stranger now. There was something about the way that he looked at her, as if he was
trying to decide something but just couldn’t manage it. She had hoped their night together would bring him out of his shell. She had also hoped inviting him to Loki’s apartment would prove to Riley her good intentions. So far, neither seemed to have worked.
At two p.m. Val followed Diekmann to the high school where Loki had worked as a janitor. They met the principal, Nicholas H. Galen, who was waiting for them on the front stairs. He was a tall, thin man in his thirties with a goatee and a friendly smile. They exchanged introductions, and Diekmann explained why they had asked to visit. Nicholas was reasonably concerned about the situation. He offered to show them Loki’s workspace.
“There isn’t much to see,” he warned as they crossed the back of the campus to a small portable trailer. “We keep cleaning supplies, mops and such in here. Michael had his own key, so he was free to come and go.”
“Can you tell us anything about him?” said Val.
“Not a lot. Michael kept to himself. He usually ate his meals out here, alone. We never had any complaints about him, but he’s only worked here for six months. He passed his background check with flying colors.”
Nicholas opened the door and they stepped into the trailer. It was a small cluttered area filled with shelves of chemical cleaners and boxes of hand soap and toilet paper. Trash littered the floor, but not nearly as extensively as in his apartment.
“What about this locker?” said Diekmann, pointing to a gray metal box bolted to the wall in the corner. “Is this his?”
“Yes. Although I should probably ask for a warrant before I open it. The union would have my head…”
Diekmann rolled his eyes. “I’ll have to call the judge,” he said. “It’ll take a couple hours.”
He grabbed the padlock on the door and yanked, testing it, but it held fast. Nicholas sighed. He appeared to be having some sort of internal struggle.