by J. L. Drake
***
Hours later, Natalie sat at her dining table, printouts of newspaper articles in front of her. After leaving Hallie, she had called Matt and advised him of Hallie’s progress. As she had thought, he had been pleased if not a little disappointed that it had yielded nothing he could use. She had told him it was still early, and that Hallie’s memory would continue to get clearer as each new day passed, but she had advised against getting his hopes up. There could be moments Hallie may never recollect but Natalie felt Hallie would be unlucky enough to remember with crystal clear clarity given enough time.
She had hung up with Matt and returned to her office where she had brought up Google and printed out every article pertaining to the Butcher. She had to find this man, now more than ever. She didn’t want anything to hinder Hallie’s progress, and Natalie wanted nothing more than to share the world with her, but she knew that while the Butcher still roamed free Hallie would remain locked behind the doors of the hospital. Hadn’t Hallie’s past convinced her of that?
Outside, a storm was brewing and Natalie could smell the rain coming on the breeze. Even in spring, Harbour Bay had a good amount of rainfall. While other cities were on water restrictions, they were still enjoying watering their gardens and washing their cars.
She had taken a shower earlier, trying to alleviate the tension in her body. It had been a hard and stressful couple of days and she was looking forward to when it was all over. She’d dressed in her warmest flannel pyjamas with a panda bear print on them and had poured herself a glass of wine to fortify herself against the horror she knew she was about to read.
The unknown man, the Butcher as the media had called him, had been active for years before the Walker double homicides or so the police had believed. Every case they attributed to him had been reopened and cross examined in the hopes of finding some evidence left behind by a young amateur but even back then, he had been meticulous.
His frenzied attacks had been quick to incapacitate so there was no DNA to be had from a struggle by the victim. But he had taken his time after that first debilitating blow. Natalie shivered. How horrible it must’ve been for those women, knowing they were going to die, knowing help wouldn’t come. It was the most frightening thing she could think of, spending your last few hours on earth with a monster like him. A man who got pleasure from ending lives and felt no guilt.
He was a conundrum, Natalie admitted. None of his victims fit a type, but with the exception of Ian Walker, they were all female. No two were alike, spread across the country far and wide, from both the city and outback. They were of different ages and occupations and she remembered Matt telling her the police had researched each victim thoroughly and had found no schools or gyms in common either now or in the past.
Each victim had no traits identical to another and were murdered on different days and dates which ruled out ritual killings and other patterns they searched for. She could certainly understand their frustration and was slowly but surely driving herself insane trying to find that one clue that would answer all her questions.
Natalie sat back in her chair, allowing the back to provide support and brought the sheets of paper littered on her table closer where she could reach them. She heard the thunder outside. It crackled throughout the dark sky, following the bright lightning flash and knew the storm was imminent.
She tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the newspaper articles her Google search had located. There was one that had a picture of the Senator and his wife during their happier days. Another newspaper had found a family snapshot taken just months before their deaths and had published it against a gory title.
Natalie picked up the print-out with the snapshot. The Walker family smiled up at the camera. They looked so happy. Little did they know they would soon be torn apart forever. It was a senseless murder. One that had changed the nation and not for the better. A Senator and his wife. Two people devoted to each other, their daughter, and their country.
The newspaper report had gone on to speculate it had been a political murder; that perhaps someone who had not yet come forward to claim responsibility had wanted to make a very clear statement. The police had denied that in a media release and had said the perpetrator was most likely a drifter, a transient, and the couple had been unfortunate to happen upon the wrong time and place.
The task force had closed down after seven months when it became clear the Butcher had left the state, moving on to greener pastures. He would later become the worst serial killer in the country and the most anonymous, never once seeking out attention by contacting police or the media.
Natalie stared at the family photo. Ian, a handsome man in his early forties, had been a favourite among voters. His beloved wife, a homemaker looking younger than her thirty-something years, had boosted his ratings with the family man image. Then there was Hallie, an adorable child about to embark into her teenage years, a mop of red-brown hair on her head as she smiled cheekily at the camera. Natalie’s heart broke. She had held that child in her arms while she had cried for her family and mourned their loss and her own.
Natalie sat there for minutes, her gaze fixed on the family photo. She watched as it blurred before her eyes. She blinked away tears, trying to refocus. Once she had some semblance of control over her emotions, Natalie looked back at the photo and noticed it no longer held the Walker family, but a different family altogether and her hand uncontrollably shook.
The man wore a proud look, his teeth slightly crooked as he smiled towards the camera. One arm was around the waist of a blonde woman, his other resting on the shoulder of a six-year-old. There was a look of utter bliss on all their faces. A perfect family photo. But then only happy days were generally recorded in photos but the bad ones seemed to stay with you forever, without the 2D memento.
Natalie recognised the photo. She had seen it many times before. Had touched it, stroked it and even wished upon a star with it. She felt the tears fall down unbidden and she allowed herself to be swallowed up with grief, to go to a place she fought to forget. She closed her eyes remembering the farm house, the chipped paint, the screen door hanging precariously by one hinge. She had been so scared, fearful her stepfather would wake up and catch her as she folded the photo in half and tucked it into her jeans pocket. She had picked up her school bag, not filled with books that day but with clothes and a few of her worldly possessions.
She had been twelve, running away from home. Her father had passed on four years ago and in a state of despair and possible financial ruin her mother had remarried. Little had she known he was the town drunk and would often beat her when he got home from the pub.
He had drunk them out of the little money her daddy had left them and her mother had become more distant in her melancholy, opting to leave the world with pills and booze if only for a short time. When her mother had stopped being an amusing victim, Natalie’s stepfather had turned on her. His so called child-rearing and discipline a world of cruel punishment. A child should never know what an adult’s fist feels like, should never know the people who were supposed to protect them were the ones destroying them.
It had been after a particularly brutal beating from her beloved stepfather that little ‘Natty’ had decided no more. She had vowed then and there that she wouldn’t allow that man to touch or hurt her again. She had lived in constant fear and her nerves were shot while she waited for her liberation day.
She had packed her school bag and had slowly descended the staircase, creeping past her unconscious stepfather lying on the living room floor. She opened the door and as it had screeched, had held her breath silently praying he would sleep through the sound. Her heart had pounded in her ears and had almost given out when he rolled over, his face to her. It had taken a few moments for her to realise he was still asleep. She had grabbed her bicycle and had ridden for hours until she came to the closest bus station where she waited, her small body filled with tension, hyped up on adrenaline for the bus to come.
It had taken sixteen hours for her to finally arrive at the Harbour Bay Bus Terminal but when it did, she thought it was the most beautiful sight in the world. She was free. She had hopped off the bus and had searched the waiting faces until her gaze had landed on her aunt’s face.
She could still remember, even to this day, the sound of pleasure coming from the woman’s voice when she had called out to her. She had run into her Aunt Maggie’s waiting arms and she had been home.
“Well, look at you,” Aunt Maggie had said, looking her up and down critically. Natalie had wished she had brushed her hair on the bus and rushed to finger comb it now. “So grown up. Your father would be so proud of you. Come on, let’s go home, I bet you’re tired, huh? Uncle Roger is there waiting for you.”
Natalie knew she owed her entire life and future to Maggie and Roger. They had been there for her when her own parents had failed.
A thunderclap brought her out of her reverie. Her hands shook and tears were rolling down her face but she managed to keep the sobs bound within her. This was why she helped other people and never thought about her own past. Nothing good came from it and she always wound up in a state.
She put the article down as another thunderclap rolled across the black sky. Rain drops started to splatter against her large bay window that overlooked her backyard. She lifted up another newspaper clipping highlighting the details of the gruesome murders. She could see the crime scene in her head, like she had just arrived there and it was fresh in her mind. She saw the mutilated bodies. She could smell the metallic stench of blood and death. She swallowed hard to keep the bile that was threatening to surface at bay.
She took in other news clippings of the other murders accredited to the Butcher. Their crime scenes too found their way into her head. The graphic images swirled around and she swore she could smell their decomposed bodies and the coppery taste of blood in her mouth and imagined she could feel the blood warm and sticky on her body. The lightning outside flashed over her face as she struggled to the surface from the nightmare she found herself in. Her hands flailed about as she tried to grab hold of something solid in this reality. Natalie knocked over her wine glass spilling red wine all over her table, the glass smashing into tiny pieces as it hit the hardwood floor.
She grabbed the table, holding on as she waited for her vision to stop spinning. Her nails dug into the shiny table top as images flittered across her mind. She opened her eyes and looked out into her garden just as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Staring right back at her from the other side of the glass were the blackest eyes she had ever seen.
Chapter 18
Natalie jumped up from her seat screaming. She knocked over her chair as she got to her feet and scrambled backwards. The light disappeared from the sky, returning the world to black once more. Her heart pounded in her chest and threatened to burst through her ribcage. She placed her palm over her heart for a few seconds in a futile gesture to still it before she took off for the kitchen.
She opened the top drawer of her merle-grey granite bench top and immediately located her flashlight buried amongst her other emergency items such as candles and matches and tested the batteries. Satisfied they were in working order, Natalie made her way to the front door, collecting her car keys from the island bench on the way past. Her keys cut into her palm as she held onto them tightly. She could feel the panic button attached to her key ring and felt somewhat protected.
Armed, Natalie opened her front door and stepped out into the night. She clicked on the flashlight, the strong beam lighting her way as she slowly walked towards her backyard. She could feel the fear induced perspiration coating her skin, making her uncomfortable in the muggy air. Her street was quiet, the promise of rain keeping her neighbours inside. She could hear a dog bark several houses down and wondered if he could smell her intruder.
Lights shined brightly in the surrounding houses but no porch light came on. No one came to investigate her scream. She felt saddened by that fact and a little annoyed if she was honest with herself. What if she’d been attacked? She didn’t like to think what would’ve happened to her if she had been. How long would it have taken before help arrived? Would anyone miss her? She was alone in the world now with no real friends and no close relatives. She barely knew her neighbours, only enough to say hello.
Natalie shrugged off her lack of involvement in her community and tried to remain calm as she thought through her situation. Panicking never helped. In the back of her mind, she knew what she was doing was stupid and dangerous and that an intelligent person would go back inside and check that all the doors and windows were locked but her feet wouldn’t allow her to retreat.
She moved carefully, keeping her steps quiet and poised to run at any moment. Her nerves were raw and her body stiff with tension at what she might find, or who. She knew her imagination hadn’t run away with her. She had seen exactly what she thought she saw. Natalie shivered at the memory of the cold, dark eyes looking back at her. How long had he been there, watching her, and why? She nibbled on her bottom lip as her mind came up with several possibilities, none of them good.
Natalie listened as thunder continued to rumble across the sky, crackling at the end nearby. At the same time the sky opened up and drenched her down to the bone. She cautiously walked through her side gate and moved the flashlight across the yard left to right before going over it again. Her breaths came in fast, short bursts. She trailed the light beam over the glass of the window where only days ago Matt had stood and innocently watched her. Now an unknown person had been there for God knows how long, doing God knows what.
Her body went cold as she saw the fingerprint marks glow in the bright beam of her flashlight. The bastard had his hands on her window. She looked past the smudged face outline on the glass into her home at the very place she had so recently been. Her hand shook as a shiver travelled down her spine and she nervously wet her lips. The rain pounded down on her head, running into her eyes and she blinked rapidly.
The man had pressed his face against the glass. Had been close enough to her that he could’ve counted the number of freckles on her nose and she hadn’t had a clue he was there. Had it not been for the lightning and her glancing up at that exact moment she might never have known. She probably would’ve gone to bed with him watching her every move. She shivered again at the thought of that man getting his jollies watching her undress, at what he might do next. She looked down at the ground and knew he’d been there for hours. His man-sized footsteps had left an impression on the soil beneath his feet. For a second she had thought it was Derek, returning to taunt her, but after a few terrifying seconds her brain began to work through the terror and she realised it wasn’t him and her heart almost failed her.
Natalie pulled her intruder’s image from her memory and kept it close, reviewing his features over and over so as not to forget. She looked about her backyard to determine if anything was out of place. She wondered what she was doing. Why was she outside in the rain looking, investigating something she shouldn’t be?
Natalie lost what was left of her bravery and turned around, moving fast towards her car. She pressed the button on her key ring and watched the indicator lights blink as the doors unlocked. She jumped onto the passenger seat and pressed the central lock button, hearing the delightful sound of the doors locking.
She turned around in her seat and played the light beam over the backseat and foot-well. Satisfied she was alone in the vehicle, Natalie deftly climbed over the gear shift and into the driver’s seat, plunged the key into the ignition, and revved the engine as she tore out of her driveway. She didn’t slow down once as she sped downtown. The windscreen wipers were working overtime swiping the raindrops away and clearing her vision. She felt the tyres buckle under her as they ran through deep puddles, the rubber leaving the asphalt for a brief second. Her stomach twisted into knots as she held on tight, her fingers curling into the leather of the steering wheel.
Natalie didn’t dare take her
hands away, afraid of losing control of her vehicle as she made several sharp turns. She pulled into the parking lot near her office building and forced herself to let go, almost falling out of the car in her haste to get out of the open. She took off for the entrance and ran up the three flights of stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator, never once thinking to check if she was being pursued. Not that it mattered. She was scared and wanted to feel safe again. Rational thinking did not enter into it. After securing the doors behind her, Natalie collapsed into her chair, her legs no longer able to hold her weight and caught her breath. With trembling hands, she reached for her phone.
Chapter 19
Matt opened the door to Natalie’s office and looked around. He spotted her immediately and after assessing that she was alone, he silently closed the door behind him and carried a cardboard cup of coffee over to her.
Her eyes were closed and her breathing shallow. She was asleep. Her naked feet were resting on her desk, her chair reclined. Her hair was knotted around her face and she smelled of damp, mouldy fabric. Her panda pyjamas were slightly askew and one corner of the button-up top was folded back to give him a tantalising view of a flat, creamy stomach. She looked a mess, so far removed from the coiffed and elegantly dressed woman he was used to seeing. But no matter what she wore—or didn’t wear—she was still beautiful and all Matt could think of was touching her.
He stamped down on that need and focused on why he was here. He’d been out all night trying to track down any CCTV cameras in the vicinity of the crime in hopes of finding a glimpse of the perpetrator and when he had returned to the station earlier that morning, he had been told by the officer on duty that Natalie had called constantly throughout the night trying to reach him since his mobile had gone to voicemail. Stupidly he had forgotten to charge it before leaving the LAC and he’d been too busy to think of it and regretted not forwarding his calls to Darryl’s mobile.