Serial 4

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Serial 4 Page 8

by Lily White


  She almost gagged thinking about it, but it took her mind off the heart stopping fear she’d been feeling and she slowly drifted back into a dreamless sleep.

  * * *

  “Miss Wilson?” An older female guard Patty only vaguely knew in passing asked her as she walked towards the cafeteria a few days later. “Patricia Wilson?”

  “Yeah,” Patty replied, suspicion thickening her voice.

  “They need to see you in the Warden’s office.”

  “Can it wait until after breakfast?”

  “No, they need you now.”

  “But I’ll miss out on eggs. The scrambled eggs go the fastest, then I’ll be left with dry toast.”

  “Now. Follow me.”

  Patty frowned, not willing to risk a black mark on her record to fight for her morning eggs. A black mark meant she might miss Mom and John bringing Sarah to come for a visit on the weekend.

  She trailed behind the guard, avoiding making eye contact with her fellow inmates as she walked along. Each time she’d looked at somebody in jail, she’d regretted it immediately. It had been taken as a challenge or an invitation to something sexual, and either way it spelled danger for Patty.

  In the Warden’s office Patty was surprised to find John sitting there waiting for her.

  “What’s going on? Is it Sarah? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine,” the Warden replied. “In fact, this is good news, Patty. You may remember your public defender, Jacob Green.”

  Patty did, but he’d been so incompetent, she’d chosen not to look at him. She did now, giving him a cool nod. She understood what he thought of her, that she wasn’t worth his effort to save so he’d given up fighting moments after meeting her the first time.

  “What’s this about?”

  “You’re free to go,” the Warden said with a smile. “This was all a misunderstanding and the FBI believe they’re on the trail of the real Cascades Killer. A team, actually, a man and a woman.”

  “So you believe me?” Patty asked.

  “We do,” Jacob Green responded. “I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I thought you were lying about everything, about being kidnapped and about Veronica. All of it.”

  “I wasn’t lying,” Patty said, although it technically wasn’t true. She had given up on herself about as quickly as Jacob had. For Sarah’s sake, for her baby girl’s safety.

  And because Veronica had terrified her.

  “So pack your things, Patty, I’m here to bring you home,” John said, offering a warm smile.

  Before last night Patty would have been elated over such news, but after seeing Jude’s leering, smug face on the television, her heart went icy cold.

  “Don’t you want to come home? Sarah’s waiting for you. She’s almost walking now, she’ll just about take a step. Don’t you want to be there for that?”

  Of course Patty did, she ached to hold Sarah in her arms and she practically started weeping out of joy at the idea of seeing her daughter.

  “I do,” Patty replied softly. “I really do. I guess I just don’t believe it. Am I still dreaming?”

  “No, this is happening,” John said and his smile widened into a grin. “You’re coming home, Patty, and things are gonna be good from here on.”

  “Do you need to go back to your cell?” the Warden asked. “For your things?”

  “No, there’s nothing I want, I’ll leave it all behind. Throw it out.” Patty allowed herself to have a momentary rush of hope flicker through her veins. Maybe she could fly under the radar, Jude Hollister was probably going to keep his nose clean even if he found out the only woman who knew his true identity was still alive.

  Besides, jail had scared her straight, cleaned her up and was going to send her back into the world drug-free and ready to live her best life.

  “Suit yourself,” the Warden replied and proceeded to have Patty sign about a hundred pages of paperwork before John and her useless lawyer, Jacob, walked her down the long hallway and out of the jail.

  * * *

  Patty got a job at a gas station near their house so she could walk home on her lunch hour and play with Sarah. Since getting out of jail, she couldn’t get enough of her little girl.

  “She’s going to be so pretty, isn’t she?” she said to her mother one afternoon after her shift. Sarah was playing in the little plastic wading pool Patty had picked her up at the Walmart where she once had worked.

  “She will be a looker, that’s for sure,” Patty’s mom agreed.

  It was strange, ever since she got out of jail and since people seemed to believe the story that she’d been kidnapped by the woman who had turned out to be the Cascades Killer, Patty’s mom had developed a kindness towards her daughter that hadn’t been there before.

  “She’s got your eyes,” Patty said and smiled at her mom who was draped in a shaky lawn chair that looked like it was about to collapse under her mother’s bulk. It didn’t though, and it hadn’t in the past couple years since they’d picked it off the side of the street in a nicer neighborhood.

  “Then she’ll be a total babe,” John rasped and hobbled out of the house with a beer in hand. “You girls need anything before I park my ass?”

  “I’m good,” Patty said and turned back to Sarah to admire her beautiful little girl.

  Sarah splashed and threw her little ball to the edge of the back yard fence. She started to cry and Patty knew John and her mom were both settled in now and wouldn’t move unless they were on fire or until their favorite sing along talent show came on later.

  Patty sighed and said, “I’ll get that for you, sweetie.” She stood up and walked to the ball, picked it up and was about to toss it back in the pool when a movement in the corner of her vision caught her attention.

  Parked down the alley, near old Miss Mathew’s place, was a sleek black SUV. Something fancy, Patty wasn’t sure of the make or model, but it was more money than anyone in her neighborhood could afford.

  It meant either a drug deal was going down, but nobody was present outside the vehicle, or something darker was going on.

  Jude Hollister was on the prowl and knew where she lived.

  “Something going on over there?” her mother called to her.

  Patty forced herself to smile and turned back to the family. Sarah was still sniveling in the little pool and John and her mom were staring at her like she had gone crazy.

  “Nope, just thought I saw an owl. That’s all.”

  She walked back and gave Sarah the ball. Her little girl immediately started to babble and smile, giving Patty time to glance back down the alley through the gaps in the old wooden fence.

  The SUV was still there. It was Jude, she was sure of it then. It was much too fancy and new to be the run of the mill dealers they got around there, and if it was the cops doing surveillance they would choose something that didn’t stand out.

  She tried her best to ignore the vehicle, but couldn’t get it out of her mind, the way he’d tortured her…the way he’d almost killed her. She rushed over to where Sarah was contentedly splashing in the little pool, picked her up and wrapped her in a towel.

  She began to scream, her mother and John protested and told her to put Sarah back, but Patty couldn’t stomach the thought of Jude’s eyes on her little girl.

  She hated to think of him knowing what Sarah looked like, and she hated to think of him doing to her daughter what he’d done to her.

  She raced into the house and slammed the door, put Sarah into her little pink PJs and told herself she was just going to lay down with her for a nap.

  As Sarah did finally drift off into slumber, Patty allowed herself to acknowledge the real reason she’d brought Sarah inside.

  She was terrified, to the point of near paralysis, and this was the only place in the world where she could keep her little girl safe.

  16 Jude, it began with him and it will end with him

  Work was boring, sex was boring, my friends were boring, and my family was the worst
.

  My first visit with mother after my release and subsequent disposal of Pet and the FBI agents had gone well enough.

  “I can’t believe it took you days before you came to see your mother,” she’d said as we dined in her sunroom at the end of the massive kitchen. “I was worried sick about you, you know.”

  “And yet you didn’t call,” I replied, munching on a piece of bacon.

  “Could you please close your mouth when you speak to me? We’re not that uncouth. At least not yet. Speaking of which, are you still dating your sister?”

  “No, you’ll be pleased to know she ran away with one of the FBI agents working the case. I’m free of her, and so are you.”

  “Ran away?”

  My mother lifted her brow in that very subtle fashion that made it very obvious she didn’t believe me. I’d seen this look on her face more than a few times, from early childhood to just this moment.

  “Yes, she ran away.”

  My father chose that moment to make his appearance. He strolled to the table, picked up a newspaper, flipped it open and sat down.

  Mother stared at him, her mouth hanging open.

  “What is it?” he asked, not looking up from the paper.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be golfing today?”

  “Decided not to when I heard our wayward son was going to be popping in. I haven’t seen him in ages, is that okay with you?”

  Their hostility annoyed me, they’d never been lovey dovey but they’d managed to do a better job of hiding it.

  I certainly didn’t need to see it. I chewed a piece of toast loudly until I got their attention.

  “Oh Jude, you’re eating like a little pig today,” mother wailed and snatched the toast from my hand. “When did you pick up these manners? Was it spending too much time with that sister of yours? She was practically raised by an animal.”

  “Yolanda was a kind and loving woman,” my father growled and dropped the newspaper to the table. “You wouldn’t know anything about that of course.”

  “About the personality of our maid then nanny?” mother gasped and held her thin hand to her chest in a dramatic show of mock horror. “I wasn’t the one sleeping with her so how would I know a single thing about her?”

  “Jude, let’s talk,” father said, deliberately ignoring my mother, cutting her off and silencing her with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Do you need family help? I heard you mention your sister running away, but if you need it just know that we do have a family fixer.”

  “A fixer? What on earth for?” I asked, picking up another piece of toast in a petulant dig at my mother.

  “Oh you know, in case somebody in the household maybe knocked up a maid and she refused to have an abortion,” mother interjected.

  “She didn’t need to have an abortion, she was perfectly within her right to have that child and raise it well,” father replied. “Until you interfered, she was doing quite well.”

  “Listen you two, I’m growing quite tired of all this tedious back and forth. If you need an audience for the misery of your marriage, get a dog or something.”

  “He’s right,” my father said, staring pointedly at my mother. “So shut your mouth and let me talk to my son.”

  My mother opened her mouth, moved her lips like she was about to respond, but thought better of it. She shut it, scowled, and reached for a buttery croissant. My mother never ate carbs, this was a strong indication that she was on the verge of an emotional break.

  “Okay, where were we?”

  “Family fixer,” I replied.

  “Ah yes, fixer. So let’s just say that perhaps you have a problem, like you need help cleaning up a mess or disposing of some unwanted waste, we can help take care of that for you.”

  I leaned in, rested my elbows on the table, looked my old man right in the eye and said, “Well that would have been fucking nice to know a few years ago.”

  “Jude!” My mother’s gasp was barely above a whisper but her shock was authentic. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so rude to them.

  I copied my father though and ignored her. I looked at his surprised face and said, “Seriously, tell me more about this fixer.”

  * * *

  It turned out the family fixer was a jack of all trades. She was an elegant older woman who turned up at my apartment in a bright pink Chanel suit and a jaunty pillbox hat. She seemed more suited for a day at the horse races or brunch at the club than a meeting with the likes of me.

  She had a team of people with her though, and within no time at all you wouldn’t know Pet had ever been in my apartment, let alone in my life.

  She disposed of the vehicle I’d driven to the mountains and she’d set me up for future contact, in case I had any other….trash…I needed to dispose of.

  Being rich, white and male had its perks, no matter what anybody said, I wouldn’t trade them for all the equality in the world. Why would I give up a slice of the pie when I controlled the entire thing?

  After she left, I fell into the mundanity of repetition. Work, parents, partying, friends, fucking Nikki, taking her beyond any place she’d ever gone in terms of pain and panic, but always bringing her back just before she tipped over the brink.

  She wasn’t my type, you see. She was everybody else’s type and she relaxed the people around me, especially my parents.

  I was dating a good girl from a good family, and best of all, I wasn’t banging my own sister. No chance of sociopathic flipper babies if we ever settled down.

  But it was never enough, she just wasn’t the one for me.

  She was the one for my public face, but not the face you know I hid so well. The Jude who still keeps Pet’s silky nipple in a secret drawer in my home office desk where I could pull it out and slide my fingers along it during a jerk off session.

  Nikki was public Jude’s girlfriend, and probably soon to be fiancé, but she would never satiate the red wave of need that flooded through my mind ever so often.

  The only thing that would satisfy the real me would be blood. Fresh blood, and lots of it. Screaming, crying, begging for their lives, blood, tearing, slashing and biting.

  Oh fuck. The biting. That magical moment the flesh gives away and releases into my mouth.

  That was what I needed.

  I thought I could get it by returning to that girl I’d once held captive. I’d tracked down her address and began to watch her in my spare time. My new Range Rover was sleek and pretty and more than stood out in her disgusting greasy little neighborhood, but I had to see her.

  Was she still worth my time? Did she know who I was?

  She seemed to sense me though, and began to creep along the street from her house to her work, shooting furtive glances back, as if looking for me.

  I didn’t disappoint.

  One late night when she’d closed the gas station, the place she slaved away for dollars a day, I’d followed her on foot.

  She sensed I was there, she walked faster and she moved like prey.

  And I wanted to jump, to slash and take her down, but when I caught up to her, I was disappointed by what I found.

  I grabbed her arm and she shrieked in fear, whirled around and crouched in front of me. “Please don’t, Jude, please don’t hurt me.”

  “Hold still,” I said and gripped her arm until she settled. She raised her face to look at me and I realized her moment had passed.

  She was already dead. Her eyes were full of terror but they lacked the depth I’d seen there before, she had lost her fire.

  “I deserve to die I guess,” the girl whined and started to cry. “I killed that woman, the other one made me, but I helped.”

  “You killed while I was locked up?”

  She sniveled and nodded yes.

  There was something off putting about that, as the only one left who could identify me as the real Cascades Killer, I should want to kill her. But I didn’t. She was flawed, hardened, something had changed.

  Had taking a life
altered her spirit?

  It was if she’d drunk from the same poisonous well as I did, and it offended me. She tasted different, bitter, edged like a blade.

  “I saw you with a little girl, is she yours?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, Sarah,” the girl replied then realized she’d told me too much. “Please don’t hurt her, don’t kill my baby!”

  “I don’t kill kids, I never kill the innocent. Killing for me is a work of art, or out of necessity to preserve my own freedom…but killing a child would gain me nothing.”

  Her eyes rolled wildly in her head and she began to pant like a dog in the hot sun.

  “Listen, I’ll let you live but you have to promise me something.”

  She looked up.

  “You got that? You can earn your life with one promise.”

  She nodded mutely.

  “I need you to take care of your daughter. If I find out you’ve fallen into the darkness, or you’re shooting up again, selling your body or abandoned your daughter, I’ll come back for you.”

  I bent over her for maximum effect. “And if I come back, I will kill you…slowly and painfully. You got that?”

  She nodded.

  “I need to hear you say it. Promise me.”

  “I…I promise.”

  “You promise what?”

  “I promise I’ll be a good mother to her.”

  “You’d fucking better. Sarah deserves the best, you know, and you owe it to her. Now go home before I change my mind.”

  I released her and she fell, scrambled backwards like a crab, gained her footing and ran fast in the direction of her house.

  I can’t say why I did what I did, but it felt right. Even secretive Jude wasn’t a child killer, and she would give me no pleasure to destroy. To preserve. She was no longer worthy.

  I stalked back towards my Range Rover, found it parked in the darkened lot beside the gas station and climbed in.

 

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