“Sam, your butt is so ugly. Why would someone want to have sex with you? Your ass is hairy and gross and you have a nasty rash. And your legs are as white as snow. Just look at these wrinkles and varicose veins. Who in the world would want to fuck you? You don’t do anything for me, but I guess someone has to do it. Just like you had to do Dorothy, even though she repulsed you so much. You had to punish her and now I have to punish your ugly ass. Yeah, that’s right. I said punish your ass.”
Sam felt gloved hands part his rear cheeks before the large prick was shoved inside him quick and deep. He urinated on the bed as agony shot throughout his entire body. He felt as if his rectum was being torn to shreds by the fierce invasion. Soon, it would be over and he’d find a way to get free and kill him. Sam forced his mind to wander in an effort to block out the brutal and degrading assault. He’d kill him and Dorothy. Then, he’d go back and kill the other old bitches who’d been too terrified and embarrassed to report him, those grandmas who hadn’t wanted their families and friends to know what had happened to them. One had even killed herself and that was good riddance to the world. Old women weren’t nothing but trouble and expense to their families or the government. They deserved what he gave them for living past their prime and becoming useless trash. He should have blinded and burned all of them like he had Dorothy! For certain he needed to get rid of them before one or all of those old bats tattled on him. Dorothy was the troublemaker, the only one who had forced him to use the acid threat. The one who had brought down the Avenger’s wrath on him.
The fast and rough pounding he was taking between his buttocks seized Sam’s attention. He wasn’t going nowhere without a fight, so the bastard had better be ready to battle when he was done, because he was coming out of these ropes and do him under good. It’d be the last ass fuck the Avenger ever had!
“Sam, you were terrible. That was the worst fuck I’ve ever had. You make me sick. I had to force myself to come, you ugly fart. Take this, and this,” the Avenger said, as acid was tossed over Sam’s back and legs, burning them instantly. “You smell, Sam, you stink like hell. Isn’t that what you kept telling Dorothy? You also told that poor woman she was your worst fuck, so you have other victims out there. I know they’ll all sleep better when they learn you’re dead. This is justice for all of them. You made it necessary evil. And I bet that wife of yours knew or suspected what you were doing. I should kill her, too, but I’ll let living in terror of my return be her punishment. She’ll eventually join you in Hell. I would have to be stupid to believe she didn’t know the truth but kept her trap shut.”
The blindfold was yanked from Sam’s head and he was commanded, “Look at me, you little shit. Look at me!”
As Sam gaped at his attacker, sulfuric acid was sprayed into his eyes. “Now you can’t identify me any more than Dorothy could identify you. See you in hell, dickwad.”
An injection quickly silenced Sam’s screams into his gag as lethal darkness overcame him.
“Four down and four to go. If you ever come out of your coma, Tippi, I hope you understand why I had to do this necessary evil. I may not make it to heaven, but I’ll live and die in peace. I’ll get him for you, Tippi, I swear. Soon, very soon.”
The nylon duffel bag was packed and a note was left for the lieutenant who was having a tough time figuring out who his target was. “I’m closer than you think, Mallory, but you’ll never find me. It’ll be over soon, right after I’ve accomplished my goal. For now, Justice has been served.”
A note—identical to the last one—was placed on the nightstand instead of next to the body to prevent it from being damaged by the acid. Thunder boomed outside and lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the room in an eerie glow. The dark hand of justice grabbed the bag and walked through the shadowy house towards the back entrance, halting when the sound of the garage door opening was heard.
It was obvious Park’s wife must have returned earlier than expected, probably because of the storm. Rapid strides were made toward the front entrance. Thankful that the lock was not a double cylinder, gloved fingers turned the deadbolt and opened the front door.
As the new widow stepped into the kitchen from the garage, a dark clad figure slipped out the front, eased the door shut, and hurried to bushes that ran haphazardly along the edge of the property. The Avenger was amused by Sam’s unintentional help: the malignant brute had paved most of his front yard and put down a thick bed of small river rocks under the boundary line bushes and trees, atop hard Georgia red clay. Using great caution and agility, there would be no tracks left behind for the CSI’s and those two persistent detectives to find. No way to determine the height, weight, and shoe size and type of the Sword of Justice. Sam’s neighbor was just as helpful by having no garage windows on this side and by having a paved driveway that could be easily reached. No grass, leaves, pine straw, or mud to step in during an escape. No tracks. No depressions. Nothing dropped. Seen by no one. No clues. Come and go like a ghost.
Concealed behind scruffy shrubs and careful not to snap any branches or snag the black coverings, Sam’s executioner watched the lights turn on as the wicked man’s wife went through the house on her way to the bedroom. The new widow screamed, barely audible from that distance, when she turned on those lights and evidently saw the mutilated figure of her husband.
Good, now you know how Dorothy’s family felt when they found her in that condition. You shouldn’t have protected him, you bitch. You knew what he did and you let him get away with it. I should have punished you, too, but I can’t have any female victims to steer lawmen in another direction. I have to control this investigation.
Sam’s destroyer hurried to a car parked down the street and pulled away from the curb, a thick blanket doubled on the driver’s seat to capture the rain. A towel was on the floor to snare any debris and water on the shoes. Looking around for a police vehicle that might be patrolling the area, the retaliator breathed a sigh of relief when there wasn’t one. Despite the fact no one saw or heard anything on this stormy night in Georgia, this escape was a little too close for comfort, but the peril was over now. More get away time would be needed for the next strike, and the car should be parked farther away from the next target’s home. Yes, soon Tippi’s violator would suffer like she had before he was slain, and the Avenger would vanish forever.
Friday night, July 6th
Dan was getting tired of following Starr as the man drove around the city in circles. His mind kept wandering to last night with Andrea. Damnation, he’d rather be with her than trailing this pain in the ass. He thought of her soft skin, yet muscular build. She was athletic without looking masculine. He felt his pants grow tighter as he remembered her moans as he drove himself into her. As his mark crept to a traffic light and halted, Dan allowed a Honda Civic to pass him, which put three vehicles between them as they all stopped behind James’s white Acura.
Suddenly, James made a right turn on the red light. Shit, Dan cursed, looking at the three cars ahead of him. Starr must have figured out he was being tailed despite all the precautions I took. He’s probably guilty as hell, so he knows to be looking in his rear view mirror. By the time the light changed to green and the traffic ahead of him cleared, the reporter’s car was nowhere to be seen. As Dan cursed his luck, a summer thunderstorm unleashed its fury.
Dan drove around for hours in the rain as he futilely tried to find Starr. It was getting late and the storm was becoming more violent. Surely no one would be out in this mess. He kept thinking of the nights when he was humping through the jungles in ‘Nam during the rainy season, drenched and miserable, a nervous eighteen year old who should have been home with his family instead of out in a deluge scouting for Charlie and trying to stay alive. Most Americans played by the rules when it came to war, but the Vietcong didn’t; just like lawmen were forced to follow the law, but criminals like the Avenger didn’t. Good guys were supposed to win, but the bad made it to the top too many times.
It isn’t that lat
e, Dan thought. Maybe Andi’s still up and she’ll let me come over for a while. She always makes me feel so much better. Exhausted and aggravated, but eager to see her, Dan decided to ride to her condo to make sure she was home before he called in to report he was going off duty for the night. Her light was on, so Dan parked his Explorer at the curb, walked to her front door and rang the doorbell.
Andrea opened the door a few minutes later, dressed in a thin nightgown with a towel wrapped around her head turban style. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. “Dan, what are you doing here? You’re drenched.”
“I know it’s late and I’m soaked, but I wanted to see you, if I’m not intruding.”
“I just showered and washed my hair. Worked out on the treadmill for an hour. Too stormy for a run outside. You didn’t phone and I wasn’t expecting you. I’m not used to someone knocking on my door so late; you scared me.”
for dropping by without notice and frightening you, but I just needed to unwind with a friend, and I didn’t have an umbrella in the car. I’ve been out chasing the bad guys, but they outfoxed me tonight.”
“Wait here while I get you a towel and robe, if you don’t mind wearing one a few sizes too small. I—whoops, there goes your phone. I’ll bring you a towel.” Andrea disappeared to fetch a dry towel and the largest terry cloth robe she could find.
Dan received a nasty surprise from the desk sergeant when Tim informed him that Mory was on his way to a crime scene that appeared to be the work of the Avenger. “Damn!” Dan fumed. “If you’re involved in this, Starr, I’ll nail your ass to the wall.”
Andrea returned with the items in time to hear Dan curse. “What is it? More bad news?”
“I’m sorry again, Andi. After getting you out of the shower, I’ve got to leave. It seems the Avenger has struck again and Mory’s on his way to the scene now. Damnit!”
“I’m sorry, too, Dan. I know you can’t stay, but could you spare a hug? It looks like you could use one, too.” Andrea leaned over and wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. “Maybe tonight he left you some clues to go on. Good luck, Dan.”
“You’re a wonderful, understanding woman, Andrea Arquette. What have I done to deserve someone like you?”
“I guess you’ve been living right, Dan.” Andrea smiled before she continued, “Tell Mory I said hi. Now, get moving while the scene is still hot. That’s what the police say, isn’t it?” she jested to lighten his mood. Andrea kissed his mouth and gently urged him to his car. “Call me later if you need to talk. Drive carefully.”
Dan smiled as he walked to his car and waved to her. There’s supposed to be a silver lining to every black cloud. But I think she’s made of gold. Let’s see what kind of gory scene that bastard left for us tonight.
Dan found James Starr standing beside the police tape when he arrived, uniformed officers keeping the anxious and unhappy reporter outside. Dan ignored him and entered the house. He saw Henrietta standing beside the bed and taking notes as he walked into the bedroom. The stench and fumes were overpowering, despite the raised windows for fresh air and easier breathing. Melted flesh and urine reeked in the air. Dan grabbed his handkerchief and covered his mouth and nose.
“Don’t touch anything. That’s acid. If it makes contact with your skin, well, you can see what it’ll do.” Henrietta warned, gesturing to the body.
Dan didn’t need to be told twice. He watched as Henrietta leaned over Sam Parks, found some undamaged skin, and lifted his arm with caution. She nodded at the needle mark on his inner elbow. It was their Avenger, all right. Damn! And James Starr was already outside. How had he known the beast had struck again and how had he gotten there so fast? “Henri, what’s the time of death?”
“Fresh corpse. Maybe an hour. An hour and half at most. Looks like the wife just missed the action and killer. We got here fast after the boys who answered the call figured it was our Avenger’s MO. Why?”
“Just asking.”
“Dan Mallory, you never just ask a question. What gives?”
“I was tailing someone suspicious earlier this evening, who gave me the slip. Now, this man turns up dead, and my target makes it here before I do.”
“Sounds as if you need to look at him a little closer.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Dan walked outside and straight to the reporter. “Hey, Starr, how’d you get here so fast? You mind telling me where you were this evening?”
“Losing you, then sitting around listening to the police band. I heard the call go out for a Code 961 and I didn’t know that one. I figured Lieutenant Mallory had assigned a special number for the Avenger’s jobs. You’re clever, Mallory, but you underestimate me. What happened this time? I have a deadline to make and I’d like to be accurate.”
Dan countered with, “What’s your blood type?”
“O positive. Why?”
“Where were you on April 20th, June 15th and June 22nd?”
“Are you interrogating me about those crimes?”
“I find it odd you’re at every crime scene before us, so it would clear up a point in my head if you’d answer the question.”
“I’d have to check my calendar, but best I recall, I heard about them over the police band and rushed over each time. I guess I’m just lucky I was closer to those locations that you were.”
“Three times? That’s mighty convenient and coincidental, don’t you think?”
“Are you accusing me of being involved?”
“Are you?”
“If you’re planning on taking me in for questioning or an arrest, you’d better have just cause and Mirandize me or you’re in big trouble. We both know you can’t tie me to the old or new victims or to the evidence, if you have any. Do you? Or has the Avenger outsmarted you boys again?”
Dan ignored Starr’s taunts. “How is it that you get your hands on details unknown to the public?”
“Secret sources, Mallory. If I reveal them, they’re of no further use to me. I’m only doing my job, just like you. I offered to share information, but you refused. I’m working on this case as hard as you are. If you solve it, it means little to you except pride and ego. To me, it means everything. I can use this story to catapult me to the top. I can win prizes with it. Earn a fortune selling my story and myself to the highest bidder. I’ll become a household name. I can write my own ticket to anywhere.”
“Is that why you’re exploiting it?”
“Tell me one sentence in my articles that isn’t true, and I’ll apologize and retract it in print tomorrow. I’m right, Mallory, and I’m good, too good not to be in the big time and earning the big money.”
“You’re too cocky and self serving; that’s a dangerous combination.”
“If I was the asshole you think I am, I’d print a revealing piece on a certain lieutenant from New York. There are some men who would love to know where you are and what name you’re using. That’s right, my man. I know all about you and your troubles up north. I told you, I dig and search and I don’t give up on something I want. I check all of the angles because I don’t like errors and secrets. I make sure I know all the facts, and I make sure they’re right. You won’t catch me with my pants down and my dick showing. I was in New York three years ago and saw your picture in the paper. You won a medal for bravery. I never forget a face or an important fact. I finally placed you and did a little checking. Daniel Spenser vanished there right before Dan Mallory appeared here. But, as much as I dislike you, I’m not doing an expose on you. The people I might piss off by exposing you could be of some help to me soon. I’ll keep your story as an ace in the hole. Of course, if you solve the Avenger case, serial brutal killer of four alleged criminals, that will be big news. The kind that’s reported beyond county and state borders. The kind that AP picks up and sends national. I’m surprised you were assigned and kept on a case that’s growing by leaps and bounds, putting you in the spotlight more and more. If I were Spenser, I’d stay out of the limelight.
I’d avoid those TV cameras arriving soon, and I’d be nicer to a reporter who can keep me out of his articles. A good dog goes away after he’s given a tasty bone. You finished with me?”
Dan nodded and let him leave, but assigned a man to shadow him. Carefully, this time. Was Starr involved in the torture and murder of these men? How could he profit if the case was never solved? James said he had figured out the code numbers, but had he? Or had some insider tipped him off? If a dirty cop was the tipster, could he be the killer? Or Starr’s hired source? One thing for certain, he didn’t like the reporter knowing his true identity and despised the bitter taste of subtle blackmail and loosely veiled threats. In an agitated state, Dan went back inside the house to finish his investigation.
Mory met him in the living room and introduced him to the new widow, Cheryl Parks. She was sitting on the sofa, shaking her head and crying as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. Her brown hair was cut short and stylish, and she was wearing a lavender pantsuit. She gave the appearance of one who aspired to be in the right social circles, but just fell short for one reason or another. Dan sat down beside her and introduced himself. “Where were you tonight, Mrs. Parks?”
“I was at church, setting up for a fund raiser we’re going to have for the Children’s Shelter. I’m responsible for making sure everything is ready for tomorrow. Sam and I couldn’t have any children, so I give my time to help those who have been hurt or neglected. I’m not trash or a snob. I try hard to help other people. Why is this happening to me? Who did this to my Sam? Why?”
“Do you know of anyone who would want to harm your husband?”
Necessary Evil Page 17