Miranda turns around when I approach her, smiling politely while she continues her task. I know she feels it, too, the growing tension between us. The way she looked at me the other night when I held her in my arms… A part of me wanted to just take her away from everything and everyone. The truth was that I was in love with Miranda, I had been for many years, but I was in love with Mo too.
“Miranda, I’m sorry for the other night. I don’t know what got into me. I behaved terribly at the party. I wish I could say it was the alcohol, but we both know it wasn’t.”
She merely nods, not looking at me.
“I care about you, I always have. I don’t want this to change things between us.”
She meets my gaze, her hard stare softening. A small sigh escapes her lips, and she nods. This is all I will get, so I clear my throat and turn to leave. At the exit I stop at the door, facing her once more. “Would you like to have some lunch?”
She shakes her head and continues her task. I can’t ignore the tinge of disappointment I feel at her refusal. I knew that coming here wouldn’t miraculously reach her, but I’m glad I tried. I leave the centre and make my way to the church. I need to focus on my work. I have a few counselling sessions planned for the afternoon. I’ve taken my eye off the ball and let myself be distracted. I walk into the church and immediately relax. This place has always given me solace. I sit on one of the front pews and look at the pulpit, the place I stand and preach to more than a hundred people every Sunday. They call me a shepherd, but am I worthy of leading these people. I’m supposed to put their interests first, above my own, but in the last few weeks, I’ve failed dismally.
I sit in my office paying bills, the house is quiet. Things between us remain the same even though so much has changed since I found out about Trev and her. Mo is out again and for the first time in all the years we’ve been married, I wonder about where she is. Is she with him? I am not a victim here, I’ve done the same thing to her. I hurt her in ways that I swore I never would. I want to prove to her and myself that I can change and be a better human, a better man, one that deserves her. I want to speak to her about it, lay all my cards on the table. I won’t bring Miranda into it. The last thing I want is to create a rift between them. They’re all they have. In the meantime, we’ve been carrying on like nothing’s happened. I guess for her nothing has.
Then I think of my brother, we’ve always been close. I just can’t understand what would drive him to betray me like this. The phone ringing pulls me from my thoughts. “Pastor Chase.”
“Hello, Fynn. It’s Mike.” There is silence on the other end before he sighs into the receiver. “There’s been another murder.”
“Oh no, you can’t be serious.”
“Afraid so, could you come downtown? I really need your support with this one.”
When we walk into the house, it’s eerily quiet despite the number of cars parked outside. Mike leads the way into a modern living room. I didn’t bring Miranda along this time, figuring we both needed some distance. but when the heaviness of the situation sinks to my chest, I wish she was here. Denton Gray was a well-known dentist. I’ve been to his office many times. He’s always had a way with people, the kids loved him. We walk toward a lady who appears to be in her late forties, sitting in a rocking chair, singing softly to a baby in her arms. There are several people sitting around, but nobody is speaking. When we get closer, I realize it’s not a baby at all, but one of those very life-like dolls.
“Mrs. Gray.” Mike greets the woman, and her vacant eyes look up at us. “I am Pastor Mike, and this is Pastor Fynn. We’d come to offer our condolences.”
“Whatever for?” She looks horrified, still rocking her doll.
“Ma’am, we heard about the passing of Dr. Gray and we wanted to see if we could be of service to you and your family.” I look around me, at the tired eyes. An elderly man stands and makes his way over to us.
“Sorry, Pastors, but Lillian seems to have sunk even further into her depression. We haven’t been able to reach her since we arrived yesterday.” The man looks down at Mrs. Gray, sighing. Looking at the two of them together, I’d say he must be her father. Canting his head toward the left and asks, “Can we talk in the other room?”
“Of course.” Mike answers, and I nod. As we follow him out of the room, Mrs. Gray’s empty eyes follow us out. It feels like we’ve been transported into a horror flick.
The man shows us to what must be the dining room, out of earshot from the rest of the family. I take a seat beside Mike, opposite the man.
“Will Blake, Lillian’s father.” he introduces, shaking hands with us. “My daughter and Denton lost my grandson, Matt, a few years ago. She’s been like that ever since. Blamed Denton for Matt’s death. Him being a doctor, she felt he should have known how to save their baby. He’d been at the surgery a lot, you see, and wasn’t around when their son fell ill. A common cold.” he puffs out a breath. “Losing Denton, too, must have hit her hard, and then there’s all the hate she’s been getting.” He scowls.
“Hate?” Mike asks.
“I shouldn’t say, it’s for the cops now.”
“We would treat it with the utmost confidence.” I try to assure the man.
He places his elbows on the table and shakes his head. “The way he died. It was just so gruesome. They…”
Mike and I exchange a glance.
“I went with Lillian to identify what was left of him, it was not pretty, I can tell you that. This morning, once word spread, we started getting calls and notes at the front gate, accusing Denton of some horrific things.”
“What kind of things?” Mike frowns.
“Rape, molestation… it’s all real awful. Lillian has been rocking that baby of hers ever since. Not saying a word to any of us.”
I feel my chest constrict. Another monster has been killed. I don’t know the facts, but whoever is doing this has a bone to pick with these men.
“We’re sorry to hear that.” Mike starts. “If there is anything we can do to help, please let us know.”
“We could use help with the funeral. We’ve done nothing yet.”
“Of course, we’d be more than happy to help.” Mike says.
When we walk back into the living room, I look over at Lilian who is staring right at me. She looks down at her baby and starts singing again. The melancholy song and the rhythmic rocking of her chair have me stepping outside for air.
Mike joins me a few minutes later. “This is happening right on our doorstep.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.
“I know, and the cops seem to be taking their time snagging the killer.”
“Look, Fynn. About what we spoke about at the Walkers.” He sighs. “Seems you were right. I had to get Social Services involved when I found out Lisa knew.”
“She knew.” I can’t keep the disgust from my voice. “How…”
“Seems he was violent toward her. But Social Services is handling it now. Thanks, Fynn. Those kids can get the help they need because of you.”
I nod. Not feeling like I’d done anything for him to thank me for. The damage was done.
We make our way to his car and he drives me back to my house. “We should tell the cops what we know.” I offer.
“I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Not sure if we’ll be any help, but it’s worth a try.”
I pour a glass of wine when I’m inside, and lean back on the couch in the living room. It hits me that these killings may all be linked somehow. The pattern seems about right, the men were both in the same age group, both were brutally murdered. I close my eyes. Lord, help us.
11
An Invisible Plague
I felt a rush of warm liquid between my thighs. I looked around the room, finding everyone’s head bowed in concentration. It was the last lesson of the day. I’d heard about this in sex-ed but it couldn’t be happening, not now, not to me. I was only twelve, for God’s sake. When the bell sounded, the children around me set their pens down and wait
ed. I’d been absorbed in my thoughts and hadn’t even finished the last test question, the one that was worth the most points. There was no guarantee that I’d scored even fifty percent on the rest of the test, but it was too late to worry about that now. Mrs. Clyde was already on her feet, walking down the rows of students, collecting our tests. I’d have to wait until the class cleared out, then I’d make a run for it. I could wrap my cardigan around my waist, and hopefully nobody would be the wiser. My heart pounded against my chest when she arrived at my desk, and I handed her the paper, my hands shaking.
“You, okay?” She asked, a frown creasing her features. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Clyde.” I smiled.
I breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded and continued down the row. He’d be angry. He’d hurt me. I couldn’t tell him. He’d said I should tell him when I got my period, that he needed to know. My eyes welled, and I quickly swept away the tear that escaped.
“Look, the freak is crying.” My eyes darted to the opposite side of the room where Markus sat. He was a nasty boy who liked nothing more than to make fun of me and treat me like scum. We were all scum, but sometimes he forgot that. “What happened, baby?”
“Leave me alone, Markus,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m not crying.”
“I saw you, weirdo, I saw you.” He laughed, and his friends joined in. I hated them all. They were horrible to me.
“Pipe down, fellas.” Mrs. Clyde said, and they did, but not before giving me the stink eye. I turned away, looking out the window. I stood as soon as the class emptied out, balking at the sight of blood on the wooden chair. I’d have to clean it up somehow. I quickly wiped it away with my tissues when Mrs. Clyde disappeared into the back room. It was a disgusting pink color, and I had to swallow back the bile. I swapped chairs, wrapped my cardigan around my waist and rushed out before she came back. I ran down the corridor, and made it to the girls toilet where I hid in a stall until I knew the students would have dispersed and the teachers would have either left or be otherwise occupied. When I felt the coast was clear, I made a run for it looking behind me. When I turned the corner, I slammed into someone. “Markus.” Oh no! Why was he here?
“Where you off to, freak?”
“None of your business.” I hissed as I attempted to move around him. He gripped my hand painfully.
“You don’t get to speak to me like that, freak.” He loved that name for me, it seemed to make him happy, grinning down at me, his plaque covered teeth just inches from my face. He was a head taller and much bigger. He was at least fourteen, he’d been held back a grade twice.
“I should teach you a lesson.” He slammed me against the row of lockers behind me.
“Ow!” I cried out when my body connected with them, a searing pain making me dizzy. He raised his arm, fist clenched, but I put my hands up to block the hit.
“My daddy says girls only listen to one kind of punishment. So, I’m going to show you just what that is.” He gripped my arm and dragged me behind him, practically dragging me straight to the boy’s locker room. Oh, my God, no! This could not be happening. He flung me into the cold, wet room then stalked in after me.
I backed away from him toward the shower stalls. “There are people still around here, Markus. If I scream, someone will hear.”
“That’s why I have company. Nobody is coming in here. Half the teachers have left. Besides, you aren’t going to scream, or we’ll all take a turn.”
Looking over Markus’ shoulder, I saw two of his friends standing at the door, on lookout. They sneered at me, and one of them licked his lips. I knew those boys. They were seniors.
Markus lurched for me, and I sidestepped him. Within seconds, he was in my face, his sick grin making me nauseous. “I am warning you, Markus.” My heart beat loud enough to thrum in my ears. I strained to hear if anyone is approaching, hoping to shout loud enough for someone to hear me. The teachers had to still be around.
He slapped me across the face so hard I fell to the ground. “Warning? Me?” He laughed, and his friends joined in. I felt my lip split and touched the small cut with my thumb.
He smelled of something familiar. Weed. The monster and my mother smoked it all the time. Markus’ eyes were bloodshot as he looked down at me then suddenly kicked me in my stomach.
“Let’s play, freak.”
I coughed, trying to breathe evenly as I clutched my belly. He was on me in seconds, laughing and saying things to his friends that I couldn’t decipher. All I knew for sure what that he called me names and spat in my face as he straddled me.
“Daddy showed me how, now I’m gonna do it to you.”
He easily lifted my skirt, despite my attempts to struggle I was so scared and embarrassed. He would see the evidence. He would tell everyone. Another two boys jumped out of the stalls, jeering as they held my hands above my head. Markus ripped off my panties and gagged when he held up the bloody underwear.
“Gross! She’s bleeding!” he spat then stood, stepping away from me. I breathed a sigh of relief, until one of his older friends spoke.
“You scared of some blood, Markie? I hear those are the best ones.”
“Shut it!” Markus said, looking between me and his friend. He seemed to be contemplating what to do next. Should he let me go, chicken out in front of his friends? His jaw twitched, and I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky.
I felt the layers of clothing being ripped away from me. Strong arms held my hands above my head while Markus pried my legs apart painfully settling between them. He entered me roughly, mercilessly tugging at my hair, as he drove into my body which felt like it would give in any minute. He gripped my face sneering down at me, telling me to look at him. Tears streamed down the side of my face. I used to think school was my escape from the monster at home. It wasn’t. There were monsters everywhere. When he was done, another boy took his place, until they’d all had their share of me.
When they were through with battering and bruising my body, I was left alone, naked on the cold concrete. I tried to stand up but my legs failed me, my knees buckling. I dragged myself up and pulled on what was left of my ripped and soiled clothing, making sure to discard my underwear in the trash along with the condoms they’d used. I ached all over, but my emotions were numb.
I had to get out of the locker room, away from the shameful reminders. I could hear their taunts, feel a blade one of them held against my neck. I shuddered when I heard the slightest noise, afraid they’d come back, maybe even kill me this time.
It rained all the way home, which was a blessing in disguise. Nobody was outside, so nobody noticed me. The downpour soaked my hair and clothing, if only it could wash away the filth.
I opened and closed my front door without a sound. I didn’t want to alert my mother that I was home. I didn’t want anyone to know about what happened, because if other people knew, my monster would know.
I walked into the bathroom and removed my clothing placing it in a small plastic bag. I would get rid of it when I was done. I stood underneath the shower until the hot water ran cold. I wanted to cry, to let out some of the crippling pain, but there were no more tears left to cry. I’d shed them all a long time ago. I scratched at my skin until it burned.
“Get the fuck out of there, plague.” My mother called, slamming her fist against the bathroom door. I ignored her, sinking to the bottom of the shower where I remained, listening to her name calling and threats.
The man tied to the examination chair is strong. He keeps fighting against his restraints, causing the chair to rock from side to side. At this rate, he’s going to topple over, and where’s the fun in that? It took me a while to find him, a full year actually. He was good at what he did, managed to slip under my radar for a while, but I’d known he’d eventually surface.
Ours is one of the few countries that has a public sex offender registry, and I’ve utilized it, but nothing comes close to finding one through my own means. I prefer the kind of fuckers that lurk on
the internet. Those are the really special ones.
There is a whole other world, a dark world, that is housed in cyberspace. It’s where I live. I like tracking them down, reeling them out one at a time, especially those who have a fetish for children. Those are my favorite.
You may believe that this, what I do, is a job for law enforcement, but think about the last time any real justice was served. Yeah, the perverts may get a couple of years in prison, they get put on a list for the world to see, but unfortunately law enforcement doesn’t do nearly as much as they should. Anyway, enforcement happens after the damage has been done, and most of the monsters on these lists walk free. They are the ones I enjoy the most, those living comfortably with their families, the ones children are supposed to trust. Most kids don’t even report what happens to them because they are scared, think nobody will believe them. But I believe them, and I have skills, a way of picking them out. Like the filth in front of me right now. He’s a dentist. His office is where he practices more than dentistry. We met online where I made him an offer he could not refuse.
“If you shout, I’ll rip your tongue out.” I warn him before I remove the gag, tucking it in the pocket of my dark jeans.
“What do you want?” His bottom lip shivers as I rub a thumb over it.
“I just want to play, isn’t that what you like to do, Dr Gray? Or am I not the kind of girl you like to play with? Too old?” I pout.
“Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll turn myself in. I swear,” he pleads with me, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Well, it’s a bit late for that, don’t you think? You had all the time in the world to do that, but you didn’t, did you?” I grip his jaw. “You could have stopped, hell, you could have retrained yourself.”
Leave Me Breathless: The Black Rose Collection Page 65