by Smith, C. P.
* * *
“Let me go, Jack.”
“Should have thought of this sooner, I can bring you to work every day, lock you up, keep you out of trouble, get my work done, and then collect you from the jail on my way home.”
“If you shut that cell door, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”
“Sweetness, that’s not much of a bargaining chip you’re offering.”
“Jack this isn’t funny.”
He shut the cell door and turned the key. Smiled then turned around and chuckled as he made his way out of lockup.
“Jaaaack?” Nothing, no answer, I turned around, looked at the cell, walked over to the cot and sank down on it. He was just joking around…he’ll be back. I looked back the way he left, still no Jack, I looked back at the cell, saw a metal tray with food and got an idea…
* * *
“Just so you know.” Came Jack’s voice over the loudspeaker “I put you in isolation. No one can hear that racket you’re making but you.” I stopped banging the tray against the bars, and turned my head towards the camera I’d seen in the ceiling. I tried to bring up some tears for effect and then with broken words, pleaded my case.
“J..Jack, I’m sorry, I, I promise, OK?”
“Baby, this hurts me worse than it hurts you,” He laughed.
With nothing else in my arsenal, I did the only thing left to me. I flipped him off. Yeah, that showed him, Jennifer. I heard Jack laugh louder over the speaker and then it went silent. I threw myself on the cot, looked back at the camera and then stuck my tongue out for good measure. Screw the killer... I’ll kill Jack myself.
Chapter Twenty
You’re An Imposter
“You ready to go?” Lying with my back to the cell door, I was still trying to figure out how best to pay Jack back for my illegal, immoral, unnecessary and completely embarrassing incarceration. This man had no limits to his bossy behavior, and as much as I liked him that way; I had to put a foot down. No more, he can’t tell me what I can and cannot do. We’ll have a talk like the adults we are, and settle this once and for all.
With a game plan in place, I rolled over and gave him my best death glare. He didn’t even have the decency to look even a little bit affected by it. Clearly I’m going to have to work harder than I thought getting across my dislike for my current situation. I rolled off the bed, walked over to him and looked up. He put his hands on his hips and looked down. The stare down began. After about fifteen seconds, I caved.
“You ever lock me up again, I’ll, I’ll, well I don’t know what I’ll do, but you better believe it will involve pain.” Eyebrows raised; he shook his head then grabbed me by the waist and drew me to him.
“Baby, you broke my rules. I told you what would happen if you did; you wanna stay out of this cell; I suggest you start following them.” I pushed at his chest, and he didn’t budge. I felt my anger building, and he just stood there in his righteous state of manly know-it-allness and I wanted to scream…so I shrieked at him, and he grinned. I stomped my foot, and he laughed. If I’d had a gun, I would have shot him.
“You done?”
“No.”
“I’m tired, and I’m hungry, we’re going out, you gonna keep this up or do I have to gag you and carry you out of here?” Considering I didn’t think he’d lock me up, I wasn’t taking any chances, so I dropped my hands, huffed out a, “Fine,” and he lets me go.
Jack grabbed my hand and led me out of lockup, down several halls and towards the front. As we passed the room that housed dispatch, Barry walked out. Stopping to watch us heading his direction, he shook his head and slapped Jack on the back as we passed, then turned his eyes to me and let me have it.
“You played me last night. I’d have never let you go back to your cabin if I’d known you were stupid enough to run.” Already pissed off, his stupid remark opened the floodgates.
“Swear to god all the men in this town were raised in the 1950’s. Think women can’t think for themselves or make decisions. Heaven forbid they think we have a mind of our own, one, I might add, that I’ve used up until this week, without any of your or your,” pointing at them both “help…. I’m sick up to here,” hand thrown up over my head for emphasis, “of the lot of you. I’m going home, and I will shoot the next man who drives up my mountain and knocks on my door.”
And with that, I turned and stomped off down the hall, pushed through the doors, made my way to the lobby, out the front doors and when I got outside, I remembered I didn’t have my Jeep. Well shit. I turned around and saw Jack heading for the front door and without thinking twice; I ran like my ass was on fire towards the side of the building. As I was turning the corner, I saw Ben driving down the street. Thank you, God. I jumped off the curb and ran right in front of his truck, throwing my hands out to stop him. He screeched to a halt, and I rounded the truck, jumped in the cab and shouted.
“Drive.”
“Drive?”
“Yes, drive, now, foot to the pedal, pedal to the metal, D.R.I.V.E…. now, go, go, go.” Ben looked at me like I was nuts, then mumbling and grumbling, took his foot off the brake and drove…like the grandpa he is.
As he rounded the corner that took us past the station, I ducked down in the seat so Jack, who was searching for me while walking towards his truck, looking like he was going to shoot someone, wouldn’t see his escaped prisoner. Ben looked down at me but kept going.
“Take me to my Jeep, Ben.”
“Jenny, he’ll just find you like he did last night.”
“Fine he’ll find me, just take me to my Jeep, I’ve been locked up all day, I need some time to myself to think.” Ben gave me the “women” look that all the men in this town had perfected, but kept driving back to The Bean.
When we got close, I got my keys out of my purse, ready to jump out and then jump into my Jeep. Ben stopped by my bumper and turned to me.
“Jenny, don’t you go off half-cocked like you did last night. Jack can keep you safe; you just need to let him.” I sighed ‘cause he just didn’t get it.
“I’ll remember that Ben, I’m not running, I just need to think, to breathe for a minute. I’m at the end of my rope. I need to decompress without over six feet of testosterone telling me what to do all the time.” Feeling my chance for escape dwindling with each second that ticked by, I kissed him on the cheek and jumped out of the truck.
* * *
Checking my rear-view all the way into Crested Butte, I didn’t want to go back to my cabin; I wanted sit down, have a drink and just think. So I pulled onto Elk street and headed to The Wooden Nickel, one of the original and oldest saloons in Crested, and a favorite of mine. Warm dark wood walls, a bar that looked original, and made you feel like you’d just stepped back in time, and an atmosphere that said “sit down stay a while.” But what I liked most of all was the friendly bartenders that made you feel welcome, but left you to it if you needed to be alone. I slid up to the bar, and Charlie, one of the regular bartenders, was there. He tipped his head to me and walked over.
“You drinking alone tonight?”
“If I can help it.”
“Bad day?”
“Bad week.”
“Same as usual?”
“That’ll work, thanks Charlie.”
“Honey whiskey, neat, coming up.”
Closing my eyes, I let the sounds of the bar filter through my brain; glasses clinking, soft murmurs coming from the patrons, a jukebox playing in the corner, all sounds of just every day simple and mundane. I came here for a new life and a little excitement. Hiking…that was my idea of excitement. Maybe horseback riding on the continental divides. If I had to write a list of things to make my life more exciting, I’m pretty sure being the obsession of a deranged killer would not make my top ten. But even as a child I tried to excel, so there you have it, I excelled at one thing…I can now check being the object of a killer’s desire off my bucket list. Guess I’ll drink to that!
“Honey whiskey neat…you want
something to eat with that?”
“Yeah, burger and fries, Charlie.”
“You got it.” He studied me for a second and was about to say something, so I put up my hand.
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure anything you have to say would be worth my time.”
“Ha, you’re funny, but really, even if I wanted to, I’m sworn to secrecy by confidential agreements.”
“Ok, I’ll leave you to it then, but anytime you need an ear, I’m here for you.” I watched Charlie head to the kitchen to place my order; did he just flirt with me? He’s a nice looking man, and a little younger than me, hmmm, maybe I should bring Mandy here and introduce them? I turned back to the large mirror behind the bar and looked at my reflection, not seeing anything that would drive anyone to kill.
“Ok, let’s see if I can wrap my head around all this crap.” There’s a killer, who for some unknown reason is angry, in love, obsessed with me? My mind wandered to all the men I’ve met since arriving in Colorado, and I can’t picture any of them being that unstable. The Mayor comes to mind, and I think about how arrogant and full of himself he is, but a murderer? It didn’t jive. He’s organized, true, but there’s an obvious part of his personality that all women with half a brain can see, and I don’t think a killer like this would be that openly douche baggy. In order to stay undetected he’d have to hide his obsession, but the Mayor lets it all hang out. Most serial killers hide in plain sight, so let’s assume he’s hiding in plain sight? Barry is too short, Grady I just met, Ben is too old, and Gerry is too old. Does the man I buy my coffee from even count as someone I know?
“This is so damn frustrating.”
“I’m sorry, were you talking to me?” Turning to the deep voice sitting two stools over from me, I saw a man with a bright smile and about ten years younger than me.
“NO, sorry, just thinking out loud.”
“Damn, I was hoping your frustration was from not having spoken to me yet?” I laughed at his bad pickup line, and stuck my hand out to introduce myself.
“Jennifer Stewart, too old for you.”
“Mark Sanchez, I’m all for Cougars who like to prowl.” We both laughed, and Mark scooted over one stool, and then lifted his drink in a toast.
“A toast, to the beauty of age, it comes in all ranges, but who really gives a fuck.”
I chuckled and clinked my glass to his. Age wasn’t my problem right now; men were, and they were everywhere these days. Jack, Barry, Ben, the Mayor, all telling me what to do or to point out my misguided ways. I didn’t have time for this flirty man, but Charlie had just put my hamburger in front of me and I was hungry. So I grabbed the ketchup and covered my burger and fries then proceeded to listen to this man flirt and try to convince me how good we could be together…at least for one night.
“Now that I’ve spent the past hour trying to convince you to run away with me, why don’t you tell me what was so frustrating before?”
“Ah, well that’s complicated. Let’s just say I’ve got too many men in my life and not enough bullets.”
“Ouch, did I just put myself on that list?”
“The minute you said hello,” I laughed. Leaning my head in my hand, I realized I hadn’t actually thought about any of that crap while I’d listened and laughed with this man, so I nudged his shoulder, “You’ve been very good company I’ll admit, so thank you for that, my head was ready to explode, and you actually helped.”
“Ah, the old brush off coming already?” Mark chuckled then emptied his glass.
“No, not a brush off; just a thank you; I’m not really available to be swept off my feet, anyway.”
“I see… Is it one of these men who’s got a bullet reserved for him?”
“Oh yeah.” I emptied my own glass and looked around the bar and then back at Mark. I stood, and put my hand out to shake his, “Mark, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but I think home is where I’m headed. Enjoy your stay in Crested and don’t forget to head over to Gunnison like I said.” Mark pulled his wallet out and threw bills on the bar, then stepped back from his stool. “I’m gonna walk you to your car. It's the least I can do after the entertaining conversation.”
“I won’t argue with that, always nice to see gentlemen still exist.” Grabbing my jacket and purse, we headed to the front of The “Nickel,” as locals call it, and Mark grabbed the door, opened it, and the cold air hit me.
“Where are you parked?”
“Around back, if we take a shortcut through the alley we can get there quicker.”
“Lead the way, fair Maiden.”
“Stopped being a Maiden when I had my daughter twenty years ago just, so you know.”
“What were you ten when you had her? You don’t look a day over thirty.”
“Still trying to get in my pants I see?”
“Is it working?”
“Nope.”
“The other guy’s that good?”
“Nope, he’s better than good, he’s bossy, and apparently that does it for me these days.”
We’d made it half way through the alley when I heard footsteps behind us, so I turned my head for no other reason than I was curious who was there. Turning I saw a figure in a black mask come up behind Mark, raise his hand high and then down, shoving a knife into Mark’s back. Mark arched, tried to pull the knife from his back as I screamed, “Oh, my god.” The attacker pulled the knife from Mark’s back, and then turned towards me whispering, “He corrupted you; you’re nothing but a whore now, just like the rest.” Knife raised, his intent clear, gone were his feelings of love, now I was his target. Suddenly, Mark tackled him from behind, sending the knife flying. The killer rolled, throwing Mark off his back, and then stumbled to his feet. I backed up keeping my eyes on him, at the same time looking for anything to use as a weapon. Luck favored me at that moment; I saw a long board next to a dumpster about ten feet away.
Turning my body towards the dumpster, moving swiftly towards the board, I saw the killer move towards me, babbling on like the madman he was.
“Thought you were like her, innocent and pure.” He hissed out, still whispering. “Thought she had come back from the grave that God had given me a second chance at love.” He spit on the ground, spittle hanging from his mask, “But you’re no different from the rest, whoring with the Sheriff, whoring with this man. You’re not my Annie; I should have killed you for impersonating her, instead of killing those women for your story.” I was nearing the dumpster when his words stopped me.
“My story?”
“You wanted to be a real reporter, you whined and cried you wanted to get out of working the events page. I gave you that, and you thanked me by being a whore.”
“You’re crazy, oh god, this isn’t happening.” My back hit the dumpster as the killer turned and picked up his knife. Mark was lying on the ground barely moving, his face pale in the dim light of the alley. I reached behind me and searched blind for the board, at the same time wondering why no one had heard me scream?
Finding the end of the board, I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it up in front of me like a baseball bat, then moved out from the dumpster to keep from getting pinned.
“I’m sorry I upset you, I didn’t know how you felt.” My stomach churned at that apology; I was hoping to keep him distracted until someone came along. I remembered my phone in the pocket of my jacket, but couldn’t hold the board without both hands. The killer ignored me and lunged with his knife high; I swung and connected with his side; he grunted, and I jumped back out of the way of his knife when it swung towards me.
“Help me,” I screamed, and took off running back the way we’d came, hoping to reach the end of the alley before the killer could recover. I made it five feet from the end, when I was tackled from behind. He pulled my head up and slammed it down on the cobbled stone surface of the alley. Stars sprung to my eyes, but I heard a male voice in front of me shout, “What the fuck,” and then the killer wa
s gone. I heard his loud footsteps retreating behind me, as the man who had shouted, ran up to me and put a knee to the ground near my head.
“You okay? Mike, dude, call the police, some guy just attacked this woman.” I tried to move, and he helped me sit up.
“Call an ambulance, there’s a man in the alley who’s been stabbed in the back.”
“Holy shit, hold on, Mike, call an ambulance, some dude in the alley’s been stabbed.” I pulled out my phone, and handed it to him, unable to clear my vision enough to see, “Check my call list, find the caller “Bossy,” and hit redial please.” The Good Samaritan found Jack’s number, and actually snorted when he realized there was, in fact, a caller named “Bossy,” handed the phone to me, and then turned and ran down the alley to Mark. I braced for the reception I’d get, but was surprised when he calmly answered, “You keep this up, and you’ll live in that cell.”
“Jack, the killer—” was all I got out.
“Where the fuck are you?” he growled.
“The Nickel in Crested, Jack, he stabbed a man.”
“I’m ten minutes out, be there five,” was all he said and ended the call. My head was pounding, but I no longer saw stars, so I pushed myself up and headed back down the alley to check on Mark.
Lying in a pool of blood, but breathing, his eyes were closed but they opened when he heard me approach. There were several people gathered around him, so I stopped at his feet.
“You ok?” He grunted through the pain.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”
“Was that one of the men you wanted to put a bullet in?” I cried out a laugh that was thickened with tears and nodded, “Yeah definitely one I want to put a bullet in.” kneeling down, I got close to his face.
“You saved my life tackling him, I won’t ever forget that.” I whispered in his ear.
“I had to do something to get your attention away from the other men.” I nodded and chuckled at his foolishness then grabbed his hand and squeezed.