The Braille Killer (An Alice Bergman Novel Book 1)

by Daniel Kuhnley

  “Do you feel better getting that off your chest?”

  “It’s not a secret that I hate my father, so no, not really.”

  “Have you ever met your father?”

  “No. Mother would freak, and I have no desire to do so.”

  “Have you ever spoken to him and confronted him about your feelings toward him?”

  I reach over and touch Esther. She may only be a cane, but she comforts me nonetheless. “Why would I do that? He’s nothing to me.”

  “It’s hard to imagine that you feel nothing for him when your voice and gestures tell a different story. Would you like to delve into that a bit more? Explore your feelings?”

  I’d like to kick you in the teeth right now. I grip Esther tight. “No. Look, I’m not here because I have daddy issues. Can we please move on?”

  He scribbles more. The pen he’s using has an annoying squeak to it. It’s almost as bad as fingernails on a chalkboard. “Noted. Is there anything else bothering you?”

  “That about sums everything up. So, in your professional opinion, what the hell is wrong with me? Why have I lost my vision? Please don’t tell me you’re at a loss as to what might be wrong. I can’t hear that again, especially from another doctor.”

  He clears his throat. “I certainly have some thoughts as to what might be causing your blindness. However, I pride myself as a psychiatrist who cares deeply for the person on my couch and I wouldn’t be doing my job if I wasn’t thorough. I believe you’re holding something back.”

  I still my hands but my legs twitch about. “Believe what you want. I’ve got nothing else for you.”

  “Very well.” Dr. Strong shifts in his chair. “I think there are several factors contributing to your condition. Some of this you may not like hearing, but I’m going to tell you anyway. Most of what you’ve told me relates to a literal loss of control or a feeling of it. The first contributing factor could be the relationship with your father. There have been many documented cases where a person has lost their vision because of the lack of a relationship with one or both parents. Specifically because they feel unloved or even hated.

  “I believe this kind of vision loss might stem from feeling invisible, like you do. Subconsciously, they want the world to be invisible to them so that they don’t have to deal with their feelings. I think meeting your father could be a good first step in gaining some control of that part of your life. Confronting him about how you feel will go a long way toward not acting like a victim.”

  I shake my head, frustrated. “I’m sorry, but that makes no sense to me. First of all, I’m not acting like a victim. I don’t give a damn about the man. Second, how would my father have anything to do with my blindness? I’ve been blind since birth.”

  “That would certainly be true when you were first blind but we’re talking about the sudden onset of blindness that started a few weeks ago. At any rate, I think it’s time to move on. The second contributing factor could be a form of PTSD brought on by your shooting of someone.”

  “I don’t buy that either. I have no remorse from shooting that thug. In fact, I wish I’d killed him. He shot and killed one of my fellow officers.” The thought of that thug wasting tax payer money while rotting in jail eats at me. I clinch my jaw, but it’s not enough. Esther’s in my hand and I smack the couch with her. Thwack! “He has no right to live anymore. Besides, I was already going blind by the time that happened.”

  He taps his pen on his notepad. “Ah, I see. Another point where you were in a situation beyond your control. Your words and your body language don’t jive, Alice. There is definitely something there beyond the anger. You might want to work on that with your police psychologist if you’re not willing to do that with me.”

  I cross my legs and fold my arms over my chest. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  “Noted. A third contributing factor could be the case you’re on. Stress plays a large part in our overall health, and you’ve been under an excessive amount.”

  “Yes. That’s the only thing I could think of as well, but I think I started going blind before I ever got the first call for this case. I admit that the timing’s a bit fuzzy though.”

  “Yes and add to that the facts that your case involves blind girls and that you were abused when you were younger. It’s impossible for you to not take it personally.”

  I nod, unable to speak.

  “Have they ever found the person that assaulted you?”

  I shake my head as anger wells in my chest.

  “How does that make you feel knowing you were violated, and that person walks free?”

  I explode from the couch like a bottle rocket. “I’ve dedicated the last ten years of my life to finding this bastard! He’s the reason I studied criminology and why I became a detective. The homicide part was just an accident.”

  “Okay, Alice. I understand your frustration and anger, but I must ask you another question. Please don’t try to answer it right now. It will be something for you to contemplate.”

  I sit back down. “Fine. What is it?”

  “It seems like you’ve tied your abuse to this killer you’re hunting. I’m not saying they belong together, but you’ve associated them with each other. Are you certain your need to solve this case is for the victims’ families or is it for yourself?”

  My first instinct is rage, and venom seeps into my tongue, but I hold it. As the moments pass the feeling quells and I’m left wondering if he’s got a point.

  He continues, “The fourth and final contributing factor to your blindness could be that whatever treatments and procedures you had in the past have finally worn off or failed. I know you went back to see your doctors, but perhaps they missed something. No doctor, including me, sees everything. However, I don’t think you see it as a viable solution. If you did you wouldn’t have come here.”

  I shrug and nod. “Probably true.”

  “I have two recommendations for you. The first is that you seek medical attention for your blindness again, and the second is that you confront your father about your feelings and take control back. I know you find it irrelevant, but sometimes these issues are triggered from the strangest things. Things we deem invalid or impossible. The mind is a very powerful instrument and unaddressed issues often manifest physically.”

  Dr. Strong’s watch beeps, and I know our session has come to an end. I’m not sure I feel any better now than I did before I came here, but at least I can check it off my list of things to do. I grab Esther and rise from the couch.

  “Thank you, Dr. Strong. It’s been a pleasure talking with you again.”

  “You’re quite welcome, Alice. I hope our session has given you insight and a path forward. I’d like to see you again in two weeks, and I want you to promise me you’ll confront your father.”

  I nod. “Two weeks, but no guarantees with my father.”

  Esther guides me across the room, out the door, and over to the landing. I touch the railing where Denise fell over. I wish her death had been the end of everything. But it was only the beginning. Why isn’t life fair?

  The last thing I want to do is seek out my father. It’s absurd. I know it is, yet I still wonder if Dr. Strong is on to something. Meeting my father scares me. My hands tremble with just the thought of it. What if he hates me or still wants me dead? I need to do what I do best: investigate his life and find out who he is before I decide if I want to track him down. In truth, I don’t want to confront him.

  God, I hope he’s dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  It’s Tuesday and Seth and I cruise down Main Street on the way to his condo. I’m hoping he can help me find the truth about my father. Mother wouldn’t divulge any details other than my father’s name, so I don’t know what else to do but dig into his files and records. Thank God I have Seth and that he understands my need.

  It’s another scorcher outside, but I’ve got my window rolled down anyway. I love the feel of th
e wind in my hair even if it is a hundred and fifteen degrees. Seth has the AC cranked up all the way, so we’re good.

  I stick my hand out the window and the air bobs it up and down as it rushes by. It makes me feel like a kid again. I wish we could go faster but I’m sure Seth is exceeding the speed limit already. The only problem with having the window down and the AC cranked is that it’s nearly impossible to carry on a conversation.

  I’m reluctant to roll up the window but I’m in the mood to talk, so I sacrifice my enjoyment and pull up on the switch to roll it up. The wind noise decreases by several decibels by the time the window is fully closed. I hadn’t really noticed how loud it was before.

  I slip off my shoe and put my foot up on the dashboard. “Any more news on Cara Strum?”

  “Not a thing. I hate to say it, but we’ve hit a brick wall. This guy is smart and elusive. We’ve got next to nothing to go on and the only thing that links her to Sarah is that they are both blind.”

  “And the birthmarks—if Sarah had one.” I rub my shins. They are still sore from the hand truck incident.

  “Perhaps, but I still don’t understand what the significance would be. Anyway, if this guy sticks to his MO of killing every ten days, then we’ll have another body on Monday. I don’t even want to think about that.”

  “What are we gonna do Seth? We can’t just let this guy keep killing girls.”

  “I agree, but what would you have me do different? This town is chock-full of young blind girls. We don’t have a force big enough to watch them all.”

  “I know. I just wish there was a way to narrow down his victim list. There must be something about these girls that we’re missing. It doesn’t seem to be anything physical, and the two girls were worlds apart when it comes to living conditions. But there’s gotta be something.”

  Seth pulls to a stop, puts the car in park, and turns off the ignition. “We will find him, Alice. Either we’ll crack this case, or he’ll mess up somehow. It’s inevitable. Nobody is perfect.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. I just wonder how many more girls will die before it happens though.” I open my door, grab Esther, and climb out of the car.

  Seth comes around the car and takes my arm. “None, if I have anything to say about it.”

  Seth escorts me across the parking lot, through his building, and into his condo.

  I wrinkle my nose. “Smells like old pizza and beer in here.”

  “Sorry about that. The last few days have been really long. Detective Roland and I have been going crazy trying to figure this case out.”

  I smile. “Kind of feels like you’ve been cheating on me.”

  “Well you’re the one who went and got yourself put on administrative leave.”

  “Should’ve been you on administrative leave. You’re the one that got shot and the one who told me to shoot the guy.”

  “I see. You’re jealous of me working with Detective Roland. I bet you wanted him all to yourself. Got a thing for him, don’t you?”

  “You keep it up and you’ll never see this office slut naked again.”

  “Whoa, that’s going a bit too far.”

  “What is? Calling myself the office slut?”

  “Nah that part’s pretty accurate. It’s the never see you naked again part that concerns me.”

  “Good. We can introduce ourselves to the world of blind sex, but not until after we find out everything we can about my father.”

  “I’m not blind. Are you saying we can turn the lights off for once? It’d level the playing field, so to speak.”

  Lights on has always been a requirement when we’ve had sex. My heart begins to race just thinking of doing it in the dark, but I am blind now. What do I have to lose besides my sanity? “I guess so.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  We move over to the couch and sit down. Seth’s laptop has one of the loudest keyboards on the planet. Every keystroke clicks like a dragon’s claw on a marble floor.

  “What did you say your dad’s name was?”

  “Isaiah Mallard, if Mother can be believed.”

  “Mallard like a duck?”

  “Yeah, but not Howard.”

  “Isaiah Mallard it is… and don’t be so hard on your mother. I’m kinda fond of her.” Seth’s two-finger typing is like slow-motion rapid fire on the keyboard. Tick-tick. Tick. Tick-tick-tick.

  I lean back on the couch, grab one of the leather pillows from its corner, and hold the pillow to my chest. It’s not as cold as I’d like but it’s better than nothing.

  “Hey, looks like we got a hit, but…”

  I wait a few moments, but Seth doesn’t continue. “But what?”

  “According to the records database, there’s only one Isaiah Mallard in the area and he didn’t exist before 1990.”

  “So what are you saying? He was two years old when I was born?”

  He nudges me with his shoulder. “Of course not. What I’m saying is that he must’ve changed his name in 1990.”

  “My father changed his name? Why? What drives a person to do that?”

  “Who knows? I guess you’ll have to ask him to find that out.”

  “What did he change it from?”

  “Let me check public records.” The keys tick away for several moments. “Hmm… I can’t find one.”

  “That seems odd. Why would he not show up?”

  “To hide his past. I know a guy who can look into this a bit more. I’ll give him a call and see what he can dig up for us.”

  “Perfect. You take care of that real quick and I’ll go crawl into bed.” I reach over and rub his leg. “Don’t take too long or I might start without you.”

  “Two minutes.”

  I get up off the couch and stroll into the bedroom. I slip out of my shoes and my clothes, pull the covers down to the bottom of the bed, and lie on top of the sheets. My pores bleed perspiration and my heart gallops like thunder in my chest.

  The thought of sleeping with Seth while I’m blind terrifies me. Perhaps it’s because the only experience I’ve ever had doing so was with Denise and the Braille Killer. No matter what the reason, there’s no way I can tell Seth. I’ll find a way to fight through my panic attack.

  Seth enters the room and closes the door. He breathes heavily. I hear him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. He grunts twice, and then his shoes smack the wall with a thud. I thought my pulse had been racing as fast as it could already, but the thud sends it into overdrive.

  The bed shifts when he plops down onto it and my body turns rigid. His hand caresses my stomach and I can’t help but whimper. I know Seth’s cologne and love the scent of it, but right now all I can smell is garlic and pickles. He works his hand up my left side and over the top of my breast and I hold my breath to keep from crying out.

  His lips caress the side of my neck and I shudder. I’m not sure how much more I can take before my heart explodes in my chest. Chills shake me, and I can’t breathe as I wait for his hands to close around my neck.

  “Are you cold?” he asks.

  I nod, not knowing what else to do. He pulls the covers over us and rolls on top of me. His toes worm their way between my ankles and slowly spread my feet apart. I hold my legs closed with all the strength I can muster and brace myself for the bombarding punches to the gut that I know are coming.

  He kisses my neck, my shoulders, and the tops of my breasts. I gasp for air and he moves lower, thinking I’m on the brink of ecstasy when in fact I’m dying inside. He moves so low that my insides squirm like they’re infested with maggots.

  When I can take no more, I reach down and pull him back up from the dark depths. He rises and settles on top of me, his hairy chest pressed against mine. My hands are pinned between us and I can feel the knotty ridge of scar tissue between my fingers. I scream inside.

  It’s happening again!

  In my fit of terror, I lose track of myself for several minutes and res
urface only to find my legs spread wide. I cannot close them because he lies between them. Tears wet my cheeks and fill my ears until I can hear nothing but the beating of my heart.

  I crawl inside myself and pray that this isn’t the end for me. I count and count and count until I lose track of where I am and then I start over again. How long this lasts I’ll never know, but he finally rolls off of me and to my right side. I turn away from him and pull my legs up to my chest.

  He wraps one muscular arm around my waist and pushes the other underneath my neck. He pulls me close and holds me against himself. “Alice you’re soaked with tears. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “No,” I lie. Fear strangles me, and pain crushes my heart. “You just make me so happy.”

  He holds me tighter and touches me again, a reminder that lying never helps anyone. All I can do is retreat within once again and give myself to him one last time.

  I’m uncertain if it’s been minutes or hours, but I find myself alone in the bed. I roll to the side of the bed, swing my feet onto the floor, and sit up. My head aches from crying. I stand, gather up my clothes, and retreat into the bathroom.

  It burns when I pee, and I wonder if he’s cut me somehow. It sucks being blind and unable to do simple things like self-examinations. I wipe, flush, wash, and then dress. I splash water on my face and rub it into my hair but the feeling of being violated lingers in my mind. One thing’s for certain: I’ll never sleep with anyone ever again while blind.

  I return to the living room and Seth’s on the phone. From the one-sided conversation that I hear it sounds like his guy has found more information pertaining to my father. I return to the couch and wait for Seth to finish on the phone.

  My thoughts return to Sarah and Cara, my kindred spirits. In a way I envy their deaths and it scares me. They’ll never have to relive those moments with the Braille Killer ever again, but I’ll remember them for the rest of my life and relive them in my nightmares.