“I got money and you’ve got a mouth.”
Afraid her tail might lose her, she told the guy, “Don’t turn right on Pine. Why don’t we just keep driving straight down 21st?”
Without slowing, he looked at her. “What’d you say?”
Tina fingered the clasp on her purse. “Just thought it’d be nicer if we headed toward the hills.”
“This ain’t a date. Earn your money.” He reached back, grabbed the back of her head, and slammed her face onto his lap, her nose just inches from his crotch.
Tina tried to pull up, but he was strong. The smell was overpowering. She couldn’t do what he asked, but her gun was out of reach, tucked in her purse in the back.
“What’s wrong?” He brought his free hand down to his zipper. “Need me to help?”
Before he could pull it down, Tina grabbed his wrist with her left hand and used her right hand to slam down the brake pedal. The van jerked right, scraped off another car, then stopped. The driver’s chest slammed into the top of the steering wheel as Tina’s head bounced off the bottom of it.
He ripped her up by her neck. “Crazy bitch, what’s your problem?”
Tina reached behind her and blindly groped for her purse, but he pulled her forward before she found it. With his face just inches from hers, he yelled, “Answer me, bitch!”
Trying to sound as if she were in control, Tina said, “I’m a cop. Let go of my neck and place both hands on the steering wheel.”
The driver smashed his forehead onto the bridge of her nose. Bright lights exploded in front of Tina, and a river of blood rushed down her throat. Tina fell back, slouched against the passenger door, barely aware that the driver was out of the van and running around to her side of the vehicle. She tried to turn around and lock the door, but she was too slow.
“I should’ve known it was too good to be true,” the driver said. He wrenched open the door and Tina nearly fell out of the van, but she managed to grab hold of the glove box. The driver sank his fingers into her shoulder and yanked on her collarbone, sent her crashing onto the concrete. As her head hit the ground, her vision went blank and the wig flew off. Unable to see, she waited for the fatal blow, but instead she heard the squeal of brakes.
A car door opened and slammed shut. Feet slapped the concrete. The driver of the van said something in protest a split-second before Tina heard the bone-jarring impact and felt the men fly past her and crash down on the sidewalk a few feet away.
Tina flopped onto her stomach to stop the blood from rushing down her throat. Still dizzy, she pushed up to her knees and opened her eyes. She didn’t recognize the clean-cut man who was mounted on the killer’s chest, pummeling his face. The guy wasn’t a cop, at least not from Southside.
Wanting to help, but not yet trusting her balance, Tina slumped against the side of the van. Her hero had everything under control, picking apart her attacker, rifling punches between the man’s upraised hands. The cop in her wanted to tell the guy to stop, but then she reminded herself what the creep had done to all those girls and probably would have done to her if this guy had kept on driving.
Her rescuer sat back on the guy’s chest to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his forehead, blood from his knuckles. Rage shined in his gray eyes as he stared into the driver’s destroyed face.
Speaking through a mouthful of blood, the driver asked, “What are you doing? Please…”
The Samaritan raised his elbow and brought it down with blinding speed, smashing the killer’s cheek, shattering the bone. He brought his elbow up again and slammed the tip into the man’s forehead, once, twice, three times.
Tina finally found her voice. “Stop.”
Almost as if a switch had been flicked, her hero transformed. He looked at Tina with gentle eyes and said, “Thank God you’re alright. I thought he was going to kill you.” The man got up and wiped his bloody hands onto his jeans. He walked over and asked, “Can I get you anything? Call someone for you?”
Blood trickled into her mouth. “I’m okay.”
The man squatted down and pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket. He smiled and offered it to her. “I’m not calling you a liar, but you don’t look okay.”
Her inability to accept help from others was something Tina had wanted to change for a long time. She took the handkerchief and pressed it to the corner of her mouth.
The man glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious driver and then back at Tina. “Sorry you had to see that. I’m usually not like that.”
“Well, I’m glad you were tonight.”
He was clearly embarrassed when he asked her if she knew the man. Tina blushed and told him no.
“I’m not judging.” He offered his hand. “Here. Let’s see if you can get up.”
Still a little dizzy, Tina took his hand and stood. She leaned against him while she regained her balance. With one hand pinching her nose closed and the other holding his waist for support, Tina looked up at him. “I’m really not a hooker.”
“I can see that. Come on. You can have a seat in my car. I’ll call the cops and make sure this guy doesn’t leave until they get here.”
“They’re already on the way.” Tina walked with him toward the idling silver Civic. She smiled at the “Powered by Jesus” decal taking up the entire back windshield.
He opened the door and helped her inside. “You sure? Maybe no one called them.”
Tina leaned back in the seat and told him that she was an undercover cop. “My back up should have already been here.” She looked down and shouted at the mike between her breasts. “Hear that, you jerkoffs? The suspect is at the corner of Pine and 21st. He’s the bloody lump lying on the concrete.”
“So you really aren’t a hooker? That’s too bad.”
She saw he was playing with her. “Very funny.”
He said his name was Gabe and shook her hand. “If you want, I can take you to the hospital.”
“How about a bar? I could use a beer,” she joked.
“I’m not much of a drinker, but I’d love to.” He pointed toward the van. “You have anything in there? Or do you just want to go?”
She started to get out of the car. “No, I’m kidding. I need to wait.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “You should sit.”
Tina closed her eyes and relaxed, noticed that for the first time in years she wasn’t able to smell anything. She took the bloody handkerchief from her nose and discovered the pressure had stopped the flow. Her nose was sore to the touch and clogged with blood. She tucked the handkerchief inside her shirt in case it started bleeding again. The loss of her sense of smell scared her, but before she panicked she assured herself that it was just temporary.
She opened her eyes and looked out the windshield at the van. The smell from its interior had tipped her off, but she had been suspicious about the vehicle anyway, and one look at the driver had told her all she needed to know.
“How long do you think it’ll take your partners to get here?” He pointed at the guy on the ground. “Maybe you should cuff him.”
Tina looked in the side mirror and saw a white truck coming up behind them. They were blocking the road. Gabe pulled his car forward, but the truck still couldn’t get around. He took a left, then a right. When she looked out the window, Tina realized she had no idea where they were. Her job had never taken her into this part of the city.
Gabe pointed down the dimly lit road. “We’re pretty close to my place. There is a bar just a few blocks away.”
“Yeah, okay,” she laughed. Her head felt light. He started to say something else, but stopped himself and threw on his blinker. The car coasted to a stop on the side of the deserted street.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I think it’s the transmission. Always something with this heap. I’ve been meaning to trade it in.” He turned off the car and got out. As he popped the hood, Tina turned, tried to figure out where they’d come from. “I’ll just be a minute,”
Gabe called out.
When Gabe came back, he said, “I’m afraid I had to call Triple A. This is so embarrassing.”
“It’s fine. I need to get back though.”
Gabe asked her if she was okay. “The way you’re holding your neck doesn’t look good.”
The entire right side of her neck burned, but Tina said, “Just tight. I’m sure I’ll feel wonderful tomorrow.” Her vision was blurring.
“Why don’t you turn toward the door and lean back a bit. Let me work on it.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine.”
“It’s going to be at least twenty minutes.” His fingers were cool, applied just the right pressure. “And I swear I won’t strangle you.”
Tina barely felt his hands on her shoulders. “I really need to go. There’s a report I need…” Tina trailed off as her tongue ran over the roof of her mouth. It felt numb.
“That was the first time I saved a cop. I think you should be giving me a massage.” Gabe began working her upper back. “You’ve got a ton of knots.”
“My job’s…a little stressful.” Tina started to reach for the door handle, but her fingers missed the latch and fumbled down the door.
Gabe asked about her job, his fingers gliding down her spine, settling on her low back. She knew she needed to get out, but it felt so good; Gabe finding every sore spot, smoothing them away. He said, “I have a bit of a confession to make.”
Tina opened her eyes, realized she’d nearly fallen asleep.
“I recognized you back there,” he said. “I wasn’t sure it was you until you said you were a cop.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
He smiled. “I didn’t want you thinking I was some kind of sick, celebrity stalker. I read that article on you. The Nose That Knows. Pretty catchy. So is it true? Can you really smell a crook a mile away?”
“No,” she yawned. Some of the guys on the force had fed the reporter that line. She did have an extraordinary sense of smell, but it hardly helped in cases.
“How about out here? No one’s around for miles. Can you still smell that guy?”
Tina inhaled. “Nothing. Can’t smell a thing.”
“That’s good. I was hoping you wouldn’t smell the dead guy I stuffed in the trunk.”
Tina laughed. “I assumed that was you. Sort of a mixture between Old Spice and Brut.” She felt drunk.
“Nope, only unscented roll-ons for me. And don’t get me started on colognes. Even the lightest fragrance makes me nauseous.”
Tina shook her head to try to clear it. “Ok, we need to go back.”
“My car’s broken. Don’t you remember?”
Tina sort of remembered something about AAA, but that seemed like a week ago. She asked if he was teasing her about his ability. He studied her with probing eyes. “Your smell is pure and sweet. It’s funny how a person’s scent can reveal so much about them.” His thumbs rolled down her low back, his fingers down the outside of her hips. “I can smell that you’re aroused by me.”
Tina didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t sure if she should be angered by his crudeness or impressed by his accuracy.
His hands traveled up to her neck. “I gave that guy the van and five hundred bucks to spend on the red-haired hooker on 21st and Colton.”
Tina jerked out of his grasp, but he pinned her against the window, his hand around her throat. Tina tried to fight, but he was too strong. Sparks fired off in her mind. She reached for her purse only to realize she’d left her purse in the van.
“I’ll pull away, Tina. But as soon as I do, I would recommend you get out of this car and run for your life. Just to prove to you how good my sense of smell is, I’ll give you a minute head start.”
Unnerved by his calmness, her voice shook when she said, “I’ll kill you.”
“Go ahead. You really think you can get back to your gun?”
Tina wondered how he knew she wasn’t carrying her 9 millimeter, but her thoughts were fleeting and jagged, everything foggy and removed. Gabe made her decision easier by reaching into his pocket and pulling out a six-inch switchblade.
“You’ve got one minute, bitch. Let’s make this fun.”
Tina hated turning her back on the knife, but she threw open the door and staggered out, shook her head, and ran like hell. She wanted to turn and fight him, but images of the mutilated women propelled her feet. Tina was near the end of the alley when she heard a bloodthirsty howl. He had her scent.
Tina tried to flick on her mike, but the wires were gone. He must have slipped it out of her shirt during the massage. How could she have been so dumb? His howl grew louder. She zigzagged through the dark and deserted sidewalks hoping to throw him off. Tina turned left at the next abandoned building. Halfway down the alley, she realized it was a dead end.
Tina kept running, hoped she’d be able to scale the eight-foot fence at the end, but when she reached the wooden boards, they appeared wavy and a mile high. Whatever he’d soaked the handkerchief with was now causing hallucinations. She glanced behind her and tripped. Gabe hadn’t reached her yet. She picked up the large brick she had tripped on, hid behind the trash bin. The weight of the brick seemed to be increasing. She could barely keep it in her grip.
Gabe howled again. “I smell you, Tina. Why’d you stop running?” He sounded close, just around the corner. “I love it when you run.”
Tina leapt back behind the dumpster just as Gabe’s silhouette appeared at the end of the alley. She reached up and slipped the blood-soaked handkerchief in the trash. She leaned back against the stucco wall, blinked a few times, listened to his footsteps. Her other hand tightened around the brick.
“Where are you, sweetheart?” Gabe slowed, his breaths labored. “I have something to show you.”
Tina remained curled up behind the trash bin. She listened to Gabe shuffling the soles of his shoes along the concrete. He was taking his time, enjoying this.
Gabe stopped next to the bin and sighed. “Oh, Tina, I thought you’d be a challenge. You really didn’t think hiding near trash would mask the smell of your blood, now did you?”
Gabe threw open the bin’s lid. Metal scraped the inside of the container as Gabe blindly lashed out. “You bitch!” he screamed. “I’m gonna tear your head off!”
Tina leapt up and saw the surprise in Gabe’s eyes. He brought his hands up, the knife in one hand, the bloodied handkerchief in the other. He was too slow to block Tina’s swing, and the brick connected with a sickening thud against his skull.
Gabe slumped next to the bin. Tina brought the brick down one more time, stopping the rise and fall of the chest of one of the most ruthless killers Southside had ever seen. But Tina knew she would still smell everything, every homicidal maniac still lurking, every girl falling under the weight of a knife, every child left abandoned in the living room next to her lifeless mother. She smelled it all, and it would never end.
Hit the Lights
A low squeak woke Teddy. He thought the noise had come from the mouse in his dream, a furry little rodent cornered by a cat. Another squeak. It was coming from somewhere in his room.
Teddy wasn’t about to take the covers off his head. He concentrated on the new noise; a high-pitched screech that penetrated the bound-up nerves in Teddy’s little back. The sound his parents’ closet door made whenever he inched it open to peek at his gifts.
Just as he would if it were one of his mom’s sacks from Sears, Teddy had to look. If something was coming for him, he needed to know. Thanks to his broken leg, he couldn’t run away, but if he saw something, he could scream for help.
Ever so slowly, Teddy pulled the comforter off his head. The second his eyes were exposed, the squeaking stopped. He sat up in the bed, kept the comforter pulled tight against his neck, ready to snap it over his head if anything leapt out from the darkness.
Teddy looked toward the closet door, half expecting to see a set of razor sharp teeth, but his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the pitch black of his room and he couldn’t
see past the foot of his bed. The light of the moon would have illuminated everything if he hadn’t closed the shutters and pulled down the blinds. He was too much of a chicken to leave his window open; the thought of only one pane of glass between him and the demons lurking outside was enough to keep Teddy up for hours. He knew if he left the shutters open and the blinds up, he’d wake with a creature’s face pressed against the glass. That thought alone was the reason Teddy’s mom had to wash his sheets twice a week.
Like every other kid from the neighborhood, Teddy hated the dark. That’s when all the bad stuff happened in their tiny town. No one went outside at night, not even the adults. You didn’t leave your doors unlocked. And above all, you didn’t let evil watch you sleep. Tina Jonas and Danny Kincaid found that out. So did Ricky Oliver.
Teddy looked toward the window, saw the shutters still shut. Another squeak from the closet. He jerked his head toward the sound, ready to scream for his mom. He didn’t want to wake her again, but that was a hell of a lot better than ending up in one of the bags they’d found by the Harlen River.
Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Teddy could see the Obi-Wan Kenobi poster above his dresser. The closet next to it was open. A six-inch strip of blackness stood out against the pale white wall. He never left it open and checked it at least twice every night before he crawled into bed.
He waited for the closet door to move again, and noticed his wheelchair leaning against the bedroom door. When he’d gone to sleep, it’d been just to the left of his bed. It must have rolled on the hardwood floor. That was what the squeaking was. It used to belong to his Uncle Matt, its wheels now old and rusty.
Teddy’s dad had left him with one lesson before he abandoned them. He’d always told him there was a rational explanation for everything. The mind was a powerful tool, able to paralyze a person with fear or free them through logic. It was all in how you used it.
Teddy studied the open closet. His big, puffy red coat hanging inside wasn’t a demon. The two tiny stubs wrapped around the door near the floorboards weren’t fingertips. They were probably scratches he hadn’t noticed before or, more likely, his batting glove had slipped halfway out the door.
Twisted Reunion Page 14