There Was a Crooked Man: A Psychological Thriller

by Katrina Morgan

  “Almost three years.”

  Katie gestured toward a carved rosette at the top of a door frame. “They don’t build ‘em like this anymore, do they? Aunt Susan used to take me on old house tours—her way of teaching me culture. I’m guessing this house was built around the first of the century. Am I right?”

  “Close. 1914.”

  “Can you imagine? World War I had just started. The Panama Canal opened. People were buying cars as fast as they could make them.” Katie’s voice trailed off, soft and dreamy. Her eyes were on the tall ceilings, following the cracks zigzagging across the living room.

  Jack fisted his hands on his hips. “How do you know that stuff? The Canal? The war?”

  “Well, everyone remembers when World War I started. The rest?” She shrugged. “I loved history and took every class offered in school.” She pulled at a pocket door, but it stuck halfway. She pushed her face through the opening. “Oh, look! It’s a den.” Delighted, she squeezed herself through the door.

  Jack glared at her back.

  Turning, Katie saw the look. “What?”

  “Nothing.” Jack pulled her back toward the dining room. Looking out the window, Katie ducked under the frame.

  Jack eyed Katie, half crouched on the floor. “What are you doing?”

  “Hiding! A car just went by.”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Act like you’re supposed to be here. No one will question a thing.”

  Not convinced, Katie stayed low. From her vantage point, she scrutinized a hole in the ceiling where a chandelier must have hung. “What happened to the people who lived here?”

  “They couldn’t pay the taxes, and after three years, it reverts to the county. Some old couple who’d bought it forty years ago. The area’s grown, gotten more popular, so taxes rose. They couldn’t keep up.”

  “That’s sad.” Katie rose and followed Jack, who was still talking.

  “Sad? It’s not sad. It’s life. Their loss is our gain.”

  “Well, I think it’s sad—living here all that time, maybe raising a family, watching things fall apart, losing your home.”

  They’d made their way to the kitchen, a throwback to the 1950s. “Whew. Not as sad as this kitchen, though,” Katie snickered. “What color are those cabinets? Turquoise? And look at the black and white floors. Good Lord!” Katie shook her head.

  “Did I say it was perfect?” Jack snapped. “Do you like it or not?”

  “I’m kidding. You didn’t do this.” Katie gestured broadly at the room.

  “You’ve complained ever since we got inside.”

  “I’m sorry. I love the house.”

  He continued to pout.

  Katie took his hand and winked. “Show me upstairs, sir?”

  The flirting and apology softened Jack’s mood. “There are three bedrooms upstairs.” He wiggled his eyebrows and cupped her butt as she climbed the stairs. Giggling, she smacked at his hands.

  He opened and shut the doors to the two smaller bedrooms quickly before she noticed the broken windows. He ushered her into the master bedroom, which was at least passable.

  She wandered the space. “Wow. This is ours?”

  He circled her from behind, running eager hands across her nicely shaped breasts. Katie started to laugh, but his breathing quickened, and she realized he was serious.

  “Jack, we can’t do anything here.” She pushed him back, light-heartedly, but he pulled her closer, drowning her in a kiss that had her close to gagging.

  He pushed her shirt aside, eager to get past the bra and what lay beneath.

  Katie broke free. “What are you doing? We have to get out of here.” She pulled her shirt down, but he grabbed her hands, pulled them up over her head and backed her against a wall. Holding her in place with his knees and one arm, she heard his belt hit the floor.

  Shock kept her silent. He held her arms over her head with his left hand, while his right hand fisted in her hair, pulling it upward to expose her neck. He bit and chewed while she rose involuntarily on her tiptoes to relieve the pressure. He bent his head and nipped her left breast.

  “Jack. Stop. You’re hurting me!”

  Jack dropped her arms to yank at her pants.

  “Jack. Stop. Seriously.” She held onto the waistband with one hand and rubbed the other across her bruised breast.

  Oblivious to her protests, Jack wrestled her pants down. A button clattered loose across the floor, breaking Jack’s focus. Katie held her shirttail and pants tightly clenched at her waist. Trembling, she reverted to her little girl self—the one who hid in her closet, praying the monsters would go away. “There was a crooked man, who walked a crooked mile.” Her voice barely registered above a whisper, making Jack lean in to hear her.

  “What are you doing? Who’s a crooked man? Me?”

  “He bought a crooked cat…”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jack jiggled her slightly.

  Katie brushed his hands away, needing to finish the rhyme. “And they all lived together in a little, crooked house.” She shook her head to clear the tune. “It’s just a silly nursery song I say when I’m scared.”

  “Scared? Why would you be scared?”

  “You scared me. You’ve never acted like that.”

  He kissed the bruised breast, and she jerked away.

  He laughed. “You’ve got a lot to learn. Couples get wound up--a little physical sometimes. I think you being here in the house, our future so close, I went a little crazy.”

  She considered his words and blinked twice. “I want to go home.”

  “I said I didn’t mean it.”

  “I still want to go home.”

  “Marry me, Katie.”

  “What?” She swiveled her head toward him, blindsided for the second time that night.

  “I said, marry me, Katherine Follings.”

  “You’re asking me to marry you after what just happened?”

  Jack pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it. A silver ring winked in the light as Jack dropped to one knee. “It was my grandmother’s ring, and I’d be honored if you’d wear it.”

  As Katie stared at the ring, overwhelmed, and a bit unsure, Jack’s mind drifted briefly back to his encounter with his parents just a few days prior.

  Fred and Sylvia’s pleasure at Jack’s unexpected appearance had evaporated quickly when he bypassed the pleasantries and launched into his requests: money towards a downpayment on the house and the ring for Katie.

  Fred Werner shook his head at Jack. “Son, you’re going to need to learn to stand on your own two feet. You can’t be asking your parents for money all the time.”

  “Actually, Dad, this is the first and last time I will ever ask you for money.”

  Fred shrugged, “Still…” and he took his time writing out the check.

  The statement made Jack angry, but he needed the money more than an argument.

  His mom had been no better. Sylvia had gone upstairs to retrieve the heirloom ring, but it remained clenched in her hand. “Are you sure this girl is the one, Jack? What do you really know about her? It seems awfully sudden.”

  Jack hadn’t answered. Instead, he reached forward to take the box and exited as quickly as he could.

  Unaware of Jack’s thoughts, Katie watched his face. He was mentally a million miles away. “Jack? Is everything alright?”

  Jack shook his head and re-focused on Katie. Holding the ring box higher, he asked, “So? What do you think? Will you marry me?”

  Wanting love, a home, anything other than what she’d grown up with, Katie dismissed the earlier scene with Jack. He’s probably right. I just over-reacted. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

  Jack put the ring on her finger, and then lifted her off her feet, spinning her in a circle. “Let’s get married tomorrow!”

  “Tomorrow? We can’t get married tomorrow!”

  “Sure, we can. We’ll go to Vegas! Why should we wait?”

  Katie threw out the first excuse tha
t crossed her mind. “I’ve got to work on Sunday.”

  “Call in sick. Better yet, quit--move in with me. In less than a month, we can live here, happily ever after.”

  “But my friends? Your parents? Aunt Susan will be crushed.”

  “Crushed? Crushed her niece is getting married and heading off to a better life?”

  “I imagined a white dress, flowers, a church--” Katie trailed off.

  “A church is just a building, Katie. No big deal,” Jack stated.

  It was a big deal to her, but she wasn’t sure how to explain. She chewed her lip instead.

  “We’ll throw a huge party when we get back. It’s the promises that matter, not the place they’re made.” Jack leaned in and kissed Katie. “Make me the happiest man on earth.”

  Chapter 7

  Katie grabbed the possibility of a new life with both hands. When Jack confessed he’d put his entire savings into the down payment for the house, Katie offered up the money in her checking account. Before she could blink twice, he purchased two last-minute airline tickets and booked the cheapest room he could find at Circus Circus.

  They landed late Saturday afternoon. “Oh, my God! Look at all the lights and the people!” Katie, who’d never been anywhere, wanted to take in the entire scene, but Jack dragged her to The Little White Chapel to register for marriage.

  “We have an opening at 4:40 or 6:10 p.m. Take your pick.” The grumpy clerk never looked up from the computer screen.

  Three days before her twenty-third birthday, Katie became Mrs. Jack Werner. It should have been monumental. Unfortunately, her wedding left a lot to be desired. She wore a rented dress, carried a used bouquet, and a stranger stood as witness. The clerk took pictures on Katie’s phone and then directed them to another room to sign the license. “That’s it?” Katie asked, bewildered. The clerk nodded and called out the next number. Jack was eager to consummate the marriage, and she saw very little of the city.

  Jack did manage to gamble, though. Watching Jack blow her last fifty-dollar bill at the craps table, made her uneasy. Katie decided not to tell him about the savings account she’d opened after her parents died. She remembered her own mother secreting money away so Katie’s dad wouldn’t spend it on lousy business ventures or booze.

  Exhausted from the city, the wedding, and the pace, they flew back to Savannah on Sunday. Katie made the long drive back to Atlanta with her mind still in a whirl.

  Aunt Susan answered her door Monday morning to find Katie shaking a bag of bagels and juggling a tray with two big to-go cups of coffee. “It’s not even decaf!” Katie laughed and pushed her way inside. Sharing the news, Katie spun out a tale of romance and spontaneity, “We couldn’t wait any longer!”

  “Oh, my.” Aunt Susan fanned her face and sat down. “I hope you’re right. It’s so fast, Katie. Not even a year.”

  Katie’s face fell.

  Susan pulled Katie into a hug. “I bet you were a beautiful bride. I want to hear every detail.”

  Katie showed her all four pictures on her phone and gushed about Vegas. “As for the wedding? Well, it was over so fast, I hardly remember the details.”

  Katie’s nerves unwound after seeing Aunt Susan. She drove back to her apartment, making mental lists of what needed to happen in the upcoming week. Entering her apartment, Katie leaned against the door and concentrated on her breathing. “I still can’t believe it.” She stared at her wedding ring and opened the photo gallery on her phone to see the pictures again. The phone vibrated. Jack was calling.

  “Hey there, handsome!”

  “Hey there, beautiful. Whatcha been up to?”

  “I went to see Aunt Susan today. Talk about surprised.” Katie filled him in and then asked his opinion about the best way to let her landlord know she was moving.

  “Do everything through email, so it’s date-stamped. And Katie?”

  “Ummm?” She’d been doodling across the top of her to-do list.

  “I can’t wait for you to get here. This is going to be a long week waiting for my wife.”

  They passed sweet comments back and forth. After they hung up, Katie bounced toward the tiny second bedroom where she kept her outdated computer. She spent the next hour sending a termination of her lease, canceling utilities, and drafting a resignation for work.

  Her growling stomach took her to the kitchen. Eating salami right out of the deli bag, she took a good look around the apartment, evaluating what she would take to Savannah. Eyeing the second-hand furniture and drab surroundings, she blew out a breath. “Most of this isn't worth packing."

  She decided to take an antique table from her grandmother, a woman she’d never met. That the delicate piece had survived years of her parent’s drunken arguments was a good sign.

  Because Jack had none, the pictures and decorative items would all go to their new house. Katie picked up one of her favorite pieces; a tall, amber-colored candlestick. Turning it over in her hands and feeling the weight, she was surprised it had survived all the fights as well. "This thing could be a weapon." She set it back down in a corner and continued her inventory.

  The only other things she chose to keep were her bedroom set and a sofa table she’d bought months before. She designed a flyer listing all the items she wanted to sell.

  With that done, she sorted clothes and accessories into three piles: Trash, things to keep, and Goodwill. The music was blaring when Jack called again. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” he announced unnecessarily, “just checking on you, making sure you haven’t changed your mind.”

  “For God’s sake, we talked, what--” she angled her head to see the clock, “two hours ago? I haven’t changed my mind. In fact, I’m packing.”

  “Keep it light. We don’t close on the house for three weeks, and there’s nowhere to store anything. Besides, I don’t think the stuff from your place will go well with the house anyway.” Katie didn’t think his ultra-modern chrome and black furnishings were going to be a good fit either, but she didn’t say it aloud.

  She handed in her resignation on Tuesday morning, and it went over as expected. Ricky scanned it and yelled, “Immediately? I don’t even get two weeks to find a replacement?” His face puffed as he spun on his heel, muttering about ungrateful workers. “You’re leaving me in a hell of a bind, Katie.” He stomped toward his office. “And, after everything I’ve done for you, too.”

  Katie rolled her eyes. “Worked me like a dog every weekend, that’s what you’ve done. And all for less than minimum wage.”

  Renae was working and ran over. “You’re leaving?”

  Katie held up her left hand to show the ring. Renae sputtered, but a customer walked in, and she turned toward the door. “We’ll talk on break.”

  Donette came on shift an hour later and got an earful as soon as she’d slipped on her apron. “Hey, ladies! What’s up?”

  Renae covered the distance immediately. “Katie ran off and got herself married.”

  “Married?” Donette spun around. Katie grinned and held out her hand.

  “You weren’t sick Sunday?”

  “Nope. Flying back from Vegas.”

  “Vegas? This I gotta hear.”

  Ricky came out of his office and glared. “Did someone call a meeting?”

  The three women hid smiles and studied their shoes.

  “Get back to work.” He stalked off toward the kitchen.

  Donette whispered, “Margaritas. After shift.” She shook a finger at Katie, “No excuses.”

  “I never saw it coming,” Katie explained hours later as she poured the first margarita. Donette and Renae sat opposite Katie, hanging on every word as she walked them through the weekend. “He got down on one knee.” Katie didn’t mention the near date rape. They’d never believe me.

  “Let’s go to Vegas, Katie. Make me the happiest man on earth,” Katie continued but didn’t mention her empty checking account either. Instead, she launched into a description of Vegas. “It ain't Atlanta, Ya’ll. T
he hotels are incredible.” Katie flipped through pictures showing the MGM, Bellagio, and Venetian. “And, you never know what you’ll see on the street. In one block, we saw an old man wearing a leopard leotard, a woman wearing a see-through blue hula skirt, and showgirls flouncing around in pasties!”

  The pitcher of margaritas emptied as though it was water.

  “Let me see that ring again.” Renae yanked Katie’s hand forward and examined it under the light. The old silver curled intricately around a single stone. “Is this a ruby? Garnet?”

  Donette shook her head. “Damn, girl. How long have you known this man?” She appealed to Renae. “When was that political thing? The event where Katie met Prince Jack?”

  “March, I think.” Renae chugged from the salt-encrusted glass.

  Donette made a show of counting the months on her fingers. “March, April, May, June…September. It’s only been seven months!” She wiggled her eyebrows at both Katie and Renae. “You did good--landed a great guy.”

  Renae leaned back in her seat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, girlfriend.”

  The three women hugged and promised to stay in touch.

  Katie spent the rest of the week erasing her life in Atlanta. She sold her furniture to other residents, winnowed her belongings down, and packed up her decorating accessories and kitchenware. She hauled, pitched, and crated until she fell into bed exhausted each night.

  On Saturday, Katie and Jack stuffed all the boxes and furniture into her car and the smallest moving truck she’d ever seen.

  “No sense in spending the money on a big truck,” Jack explained at her horrified expression when he pulled up to the curb.

  They got into their first real argument over the last box on the sidewalk.

  “There’s no room, Katie. Leave it.”

  “Leave it? Everything I own is packed in a ridiculously small truck and one old car. How sad is that? Surely, we can fit in one more box.”

  Jack shot his hands toward the bloated car seats and the truck bursting at the seams. “We don’t have room.”

  “All my summer clothes and photographs are in there. They’re going.”

  “Fine. You figure it out.” He kicked absently at her box and climbed into the van.