The Perfect Liar

by Debra Lynch

  Hurt Dennis.

  Ruin Dennis.

  Make Dennis suffer.

  And if I have to…

  Kill Dennis.

  Thirty-Nine

  Rachel

  The room looks like I’m on a Tilt-A-Whirl. My body feels way, way off like I’ve taken a horse tranquilizer, but I manage to spit the words out, my voice shrill. “You killed my father! You raped me!”

  “We had a lot of fun. Until your dad showed up.” Dennis smiles and reaches out to stroke my hair. I slap his hand away.

  “Don’t you touch me!” Something is seriously wrong with my system, but the adrenaline that fuels me overtakes whatever is happening. I hold on to the chair and sway as every cell in my body screams, Kill Dennis! I shove him hard, but my bodily strength feels diminished like I’m swatting at a fly. My nostrils flare as I pull in a hot breath. My voice rises so loud I think I’ll break my own eardrums. “I loved my father! He was all I had. You know what he wanted to do with the money? He was gonna get me out of that life. He was going to send me to college. But you took him away from me. You murdered him!”

  Dennis holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s called manslaughter. I served my time. You know that, Princess. And what the hell was I supposed to do? Your dad was bigger than me. A lot bigger. He chased me outside so fast I had trouble pulling my pants up.”

  Oh god, the vision of Dennis with his pants down forces caustic bile to bubble up to my throat.

  Dennis leans into me, and his fish eyes bulge. “Your dad attacked me. He tried to kill me. Saw my life flash before my eyes when he put me in a chokehold. Couldn’t breathe. Lucky I was able to pull out my knife, and thank God for that. Otherwise the brute woulda killed me. Stabbed him right in the neck. Witnesses testified and the jury decided.” He brushes his hands together. “End of story.”

  The room swirls, and I blink, holding on to the chair like I’m drowning. The creepy bastard. Take a trip down memory lane, why don’t you? The way he talks about killing my daddy like it’s a schoolyard brawl makes me want to skewer him with a rusty fishing knife. Hot tears build at the back of my eyes, but I blink them back. “All he wanted was to take care of his baby girl. But he never got the chance.”

  Dennis’s smile is sinister. “I’ll take care of his baby girl.”

  An animalistic growl fills my throat. “Shut up!” I feel woozy, my heart pounds in my chest, my body hot. It can’t be the vodka I’d had earlier and the weed. Dennis spiked my wine. And I drank it. How could I have been so stupid? My words sound slow motion when I speak. “You want to know what life was like for me after that?”

  He waves his arms around the room. “Seems like it turned out fine, if you ask me. Fancy house on the beach, big bucks, clothes, nice car.” His eyes narrow. “All the things that should’ve been mine.” He leans in close, and I smell his cheap cologne. “Where’s the money, Rachel? Nobody ever found that gym bag full of cash, and let me tell you I asked around. Grapevine in prison’s better than any social media.” He flips a hand. “You and your stupid apps.” His voice softens. “But you’ll never know what it’s like to be in jail because I’ll protect you. Me? I’m glad we’re getting our cards on the table because if we can’t be honest, what kind of a relationship would that be?”

  I swallow over a throat that feels like sandpaper. “I don’t know where the damn money is.” I collapse in the chair and lean forward, my head throbbing. “You want to know the only reason you’re not still in jail for raping a minor?”

  Dennis’s eyebrows rise, a look of surprise on his face. “I raped a minor?”

  “I didn’t talk for two whole years after what happened,” I scream. “Oh, you can bet the foster homes loved that.” I make my voice high pitched. “Here comes that Bradley kid. Never talks. Never causes any trouble.” My eyes blaze anger. “Not one word came out of my mouth. For two years I was a mute freak! When I tried to tell them you raped me nobody listened. Where’s the proof? All they wanted was to get through their goddamn paperwork and move on. Well guess what, Dennis? I’m talking now. And I’m not going to shut up until the whole world knows. You killed my father, you raped me, you stalked me, you broke into my house, and now you’re threatening to kill my boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend? Thought you said he was just a ‘work colleague.’”.

  Having this long-overdue conversation with Dennis is like being in a Bizarro World episode of The Jerry Springer Show. I want to break a chair over his head, but I have no energy. In slow motion, I fold my arms. “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, Princess. I knew we were meant to be together the first time you walked into my store. And with our history I’d say things worked out better than ever. You already know what it’s like to have a real man.” He points to himself with force, his finger jabbing into his chest. “Me!”

  Even with the drugs coursing through me, I laugh so hard I think I’ll never be able to catch my breath. “You? The only way you can get a girl is rape. Just admit it. Say it, Dennis.” I want to reach out to move his lips, but my arms feel like they’re miles away. I manage to move my hands close to his face. “I killed Rachel’s father. I meant to do it. I raped a little girl. Oh, and when I found her after I got out of jail I stalked her, threatened her, broke into her house and planned to kill her boyfriend.”

  Dennis smirks and bats my hands away. “I’m one step ahead of you. If you think I’m going to talk so you can film me on your cheap home surveillance camera, then I think you forgot something very important about me.”

  “And what’s that?”

  He picks up two wires that had at one time connected my in-home surveillance system. “I’m in security. I know how these things operate. I cut the wires.” He sits down and calmly takes a sip of his drink. “It’s just you and me, Princess. I’ll tell you whatever you want.” He picks up my wineglass and hands it to me. “But first, how’s about a little more of Dennis’s famous cocktail?” He cocks his head to look at me. “Your eyes look glassy but I don’t think you’re quite there yet. Drink up.”

  He drugged me. And now he wants to rape me. And probably kill me.

  My mind feels confused as my hands bat the drink away, and the wineglass cracks on the coffee table. “I wouldn’t drink with you if I was dying of thirst in the desert. Now just admit what you did and we’ll call it even.”

  Dennis shakes his head. “Not very ladylike of you. But there are other ways.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a shiny, sharp object. “Recognize this?” No. It can’t be. But it is. The creepy, ruthless, screwed up bastard. He holds the letter opener up and runs his finger along the gleaming blade. “Reminds me of that day you came into my uncle’s store. I had it all sharpened up so it slices real good. If you don’t take your clothes off right this second I’ll start with a small piece of your flesh.”

  No. No way in hell am I taking my clothes off. The freak can kill me right now. Let the coroner see my naked body. I’d rather die than let Dennis see me naked.

  He smiles. “Just enough to spill some blood on this pretty white sofa. Then we’ll work up to your carotid artery.” His yellow teeth look like something out of a horror movie.

  The grisly look on his face tells me he’s dead serious, and in my weakened state, I wonder for the first time if I’ll make it out of the room alive. Panic shoots through me. Calm down, calm down. Get a hold of yourself, Rachel. You’ve been through worse. Much worse. There has to be a way out. All I need is one opening. Just one opening, and I’ll take that blade and slice the freakshow to death.

  Fear overtakes me as the drugs mixed with adrenaline surges through my veins, my breath bursting in and out of my lungs. Please, God, please. If there’s anyone up there, keep me lucid long enough to get Dennis to confess. That’s all I ask. No steak dinner, no trip to Disneyland, just make him confess. I croak the words out. “Just admit it Dennis. Then I’ll do whatever you want.”

  He sits back and laughs. “Yo
u are a piece of work, Ms. Rachel Goodman. Not even gonna give me a challenge?” He gets to his feet, and I force myself to rise, too, even though my brain can barely make sense of the world anymore. We stand there for a few seconds like two gunslingers in a cheap spaghetti western.

  When Dennis speaks, his mouth moves in slow motion. His face looks twisted in the dim light, his jaw working back and forth. Dennis is having the time of his life the way he boasts about his dirty deeds. “I did it. I killed your father and I meant to kill him. It wasn’t self-defense. He barely had a hold on me when I stabbed him in the neck and felt his warm blood gush all over my hands. He thought he was oh-so-high-and-mighty. King of the Grifters. Well he wasn’t. I was the one who should’ve made all the money and had all the friends. I’m glad he’s gone.” He barks out a laugh. “While you’re at it, may as well dredge the Everglades for the rotting body of my ex. Gal name of Brandi. But you’ll never find her.” He brushes his hands together. “’Gators made sure of that. And since we’re having a heart to heart, you may want to know how great my cocktails can be. My mother loved hers. Enough Vicodin and Xanax mixed with vodka to kill a horse.”

  Dennis throws his head back and laughs. “And yes, I raped you when you were nine. Sweetest damn pussy I’ve ever had.” He holds his hands up in the air. “And yes, yes, yes! I stalked you, threatened you, broke into your house. I even drugged you. I’d do it all again. You know why, Rachel? Because you’re worth it. Now take off your damn clothes.”

  The thought of Dennis seeing me naked again normally causes projectile vomiting. But not right now because as Madeline would say, land sakes! He did it. He confessed. I’ve existed in a limbo state for the past twenty years dreaming of this sweet moment. He actually did it. Dennis confessed! Euphoria rushes through my addled brain.

  I smile and clap my hands. It sounds like I’m in an echo chamber. My words slur when I speak, but I manage to get them out because I cannot wait to hear his reaction. “Well, bravo Dennis! What a wonderful show, ladies and gentlemen. Dennis, can you take a bow?” I finger the button on my dress to which I’d affixed the nanny cam when getting ready tonight. I often used backup cameras when Levi and I were filming. “You might want to say hello to Tom Sanders.”

  “What the fuck you talking about?” He smirks. “Princess.”

  My voice sounds like I’m underwater, yet an odd calm takes over. “Your parole officer. And say hello to the millions of viewers that tune in to the show every week.” I hold up the third button on the dress for Dennis’s inspection. “Wonderful inventions, these nanny cams. Can’t even tell they’re there. They work amazingly well. Pick up sound, color.” I hold a finger to my chin. “Oh. And they record confessions of slimy murderers and child rapists.” I smile sweetly. “I think you forgot what I do for a living. I’ve been recording every second of our charming little date tonight.”

  His face turns white, and his eyes grow wide with shock. Like Dennis didn’t think I had it in me to outsmart him. “You bitch!” He picks up the letter opener, and the light catches the flint of the sharp blade. “I’ll kill you!”

  Holy hell! I knew he’d go ballistic, but the crazed look in his eyes tells me he’s going to kill me. The panic is a million times worse than anything I’ve ever felt, and Jesus, I thought I won the prize for screwed up life of the century. I’m never getting out of this room alive, am I? First, he’ll slash me up until I’m a hacked up mess, then he’ll rape me. Even if I don’t die, I’ll wish I did. There has to be a way out. But I’m weak from whatever the hell that drug is that’s rushing through my veins. My body feels like a rag doll’s, and my thoughts are all screwy.

  He lunges and slams into me. I crumple, sinking to the floor. His breath steams down with an acrid smell that reminds me of rotting corpses, and I cringe, anticipating the first deadly cut.

  No, no, no! I can’t go yet. I’m not done. What about Levi? What about Madeline? They need me. I need them. Please God, get me out of this alive and I promise I’ll be good. I’ll never steal again. I’ll never lie again. I’ll never take on another deranged psychopath. Never again. I promise.

  The sadistic weapon hovers, his repulsive face wild and harried. I squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering. I cover my face and let out a primal scream. “No!”

  He raises the weapon. Oh my god. He’s going to slice me to ribbons. He’ll see me naked. No! I can’t let that happen. Not again. Daddy’s face flashes in my vision, and something inside me snaps.

  “Best damn pussy you ever had? I hate you!” My body feels weak, and something is seriously wrong with my reflexes, but I muster every last ounce of energy I have. I lunge toward Dennis and knock him to the ground. The blade flies out of his hand and skitters across the wooden floor. The energy coursing through my blood comes from twenty long years of soul-searing grief. From thousands of nightmares of Dennis’s putrid body raping me, his vile girth plunging in and out as I lay there, helpless with a sock in my mouth, his hands gripping my hair, salty tears coursing down my face. From years of bouncing around from one foster home to the next, never feeling at home. From my broken heart. From every last second of meticulously planning my revenge.

  I stumble, and my hand closes around the deadly letter opener. Dennis grips my wrist, and I feel his hot breath in my face. The tool clatters to the floor, and he scrabbles for the handle. “Not so fast, you whore.”

  Dennis flips me over. The weight of his body forces the air out of my lungs as he straddles me. “You’re mine.” He yanks up the skirt of my dress. His dirty fingernails scrape against the tender flesh of my thighs. He roughly yanks my panties down.

  No fucking way have I come all this way for nothing. Dennis won’t rape me. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Not ever again. I refuse to let him win just so I can die a meaningless death.

  My body shakes with an intense, fevered animalistic vengeance. “No! Not this time, you son of a bitch.” My fingers turn claw-like as I channel every ounce of fury toward Dennis. I lift my knees. My feet jam into his crotch. I pull back and muster every ounce of remaining strength, kicking like a hellcat, my feet bicycle pedaling against his groin in a fit of crazed violence.

  He falls backward, and the letter opener clatters to the ground. “You ungrateful bitch—”

  I grapple for the blade, my fingers closing around the cold, solid metal. I fly on top of him in a dreamlike state and pin him to the ground with my knees. I lift the blade.

  His eyes grow wide with terror. “Rachel! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His head twists from side to side. “You won’t hurt me. Your stupid yoga people are watching.”

  “Oh won’t I?” The world goes all backward. I plunge the blade toward Dennis, going right for the face. The first blow hits his cheek. Blood splatters on my hand, making my grip slippery and knocking off his glasses. I raise the murderous weapon. The second blow spears right through his eye. He screams and grips my wrist, knocking the blade out of my hand.

  The front door flies open. “Rachel!” Levi and Madeline sprint through the door. Madeline moves with gazelle-like grace, especially for someone her age. I blink, but the effects of the drug make Levi and Madeline look like they’re on a slo-mo video. Madeline trips over my shoe and lands right next to Dennis. Sirens wail in the background.

  My eyes roll to the back of my head, and everything goes black.

  Forty

  Dennis

  Rachel’s Aunt Madeline lands next to my head. She grips my hair and yanks, glaring into my eyes, and screams, “You slimy son of a bitch!”

  My eye throbs in agony like somebody’s taken a can of gasoline, poured it in the socket, and lit my face on fire. I lift my hand to my battered eyeball and let out a long piercing scream.

  Rachel lies a few feet away. She’s passed out and ready. I try to get to my knees so I can finally touch her, but Madeline hefts herself to her feet and stomps on my arm. I hear a sickening crunch of bones followed by a godawful searing pain. “Don’t even think about it.”

&
nbsp; She snatches up the letter opener and wields it over my face. “Unless you want me to finish what Rachel started.” Blood oozes down the lethal silver blade and onto her wrist as she raises it over her head.

  Levi grabs her arm. “Madeline! Stop!”

  They wrestle, Madeline’s face contorting in rage and fury, but Levi is stronger than the old bag. The letter opener finally falls away, rattling on the polished wooden floor. “The cops are here,” he barks. “Don’t make this worse.”

  Madeline kicks me in the side. “You sicko! Stay away from my friend!”

  I jerk my hands in front of me in surrender, but it hurts like hell with one broken arm. “Okay! Just … stop!”

  Friend?

  I blink away blood as the pain sears through my eye. Why is Madeline calling Rachel her friend?

  Where’s her wheelchair?

  And where the hell is the southern accent?

  Forty-One

  Rachel

  “Rachel! Wake up.”

  My eyes flutter open, and Levi’s face comes slowly into focus.

  The slaughter on Dennis rushes through my awareness. The vision of his blood spurting onto my hands, the flash of his bloodied eye seared on my brain. My arms flail wildly. “Where is he?” I yell out, the words a jumbled mess of incoherence. My heart pounds and my fuzzy brain screams, He’s still in the room!

  I sit up so fast the house swirls, but Levi’s firm grip holds me steady. “Slow down.”

  I survey the mess in my living room, my gaze bouncing around wildly. Blood, cracked wineglass, no Freakshow. “Where’s Dennis?”

  Levi clings to my arm. “They took him away.”

  I have to get him back, make him confess. “Where?”

  “The hospital. In handcuffs.”

  My wooly-headed brain sifts through the scene. Dennis confessed. My mind plays tricks on me like I’m in the middle of a horrid nightmare. Did he really, Rachel? Get him back so you can finish what you started!