Black Light: Possession, page 14
Kurt looked between the two of us expectantly.
I responded with certainty. “I’m gonna go with once every six months.”
“Bingo. I pulled up his past residence history and Mr. Larson here has lived within two blocks of each and every one of our victims. I don’t know if he moved and then found his victims or if he found his victims and then moved. But I do know he certainly wasn’t Mr. Rogers and I wouldn’t want to be his neighbor.”
Nat cursed. “Son of a bitch. What about his skill with computers? You’re the one who said this guy was good. He’s a cable technician for fuck’s sake. How does someone like that get the type of hacking skills that give you trouble?”
Kurt leaned back in his chair arms crossed. “By getting his Master’s degree in computer science with a minor in cyber security from Stanford.”
“What the fuck is a computer science geek, no offense, doing working at a cable company?” I queried in confusion.
“Opportunity, maybe? I mean, working as a cable technician gives him the perfect opportunity to enter people’s homes at anytime. He can show up to their door and tell them there’s a cable outage in the area and he needs to check to make sure everything is working properly. Believe it or not, there are people who would actually let someone like that into their house. Some of them don’t know the difference. And, if he’s in a real uniform with a real company truck in their driveway, it’s easy. Neighbors spotting the truck would assume the resident had called the company for a repair. It’s actually pretty genius, if you ask me.”
“So, we have opportunity. What about motive?”
“Sorry, that I can’t help you with. Out of my area of expertise.”
“We know you’re doing the best you can. We’re just frustrated because there isn’t much we can do at this point.”
Kurt nodded in commiseration. “I totally get it. I promise you though, we’re all working as hard as we can to find your woman. If I were you two, I’d be feeling the same impotent rage at being unable to do anything for the woman I loved. Try not to worry. We’ll find her for you guys.”
My eyes darted to Nat’s in surprise. We’d never mentioned our proclivity of sharing women to anyone in the agency. Not that we were ashamed, it just wasn’t anyone’s business. Although really, our level of fear and commitment to finding Madeline was obviously a clue to what she meant to us. Or at least to one of us. But for Kurt to make the automatic assumption was telling.
“Thanks, man. We appreciate all the hard work everyone is putting in to find Madeline. I know I haven’t been the nicest person to work with.”
This admission from Nat didn’t surprise me. He’d become less angry and volatile since Madeline came into our lives. Darkness continued to reside inside him, most obvious in his sexual play, but occasionally a sliver of light peeked out.
Kurt just shrugged. “Honestly, you’re not the worst dickhead I’ve ever worked with. Don’t worry about it man.”
Just then, his computer pinged, and he spun around in his chair to return to his keyboard. We assumed there was nothing more we could do at this point, so we turned to leave.
“Text us Larson’s address will ya? We’re gonna see about getting a court order to enter the premises.”
“Guys, you probably want to stick around,” he threw over his shoulder. “I think I have something.”
Turning on the balls of our feet, we raced back to Kurt’s desk looking over his shoulder at the large 35” monitor, one of many displayed around the room.
“I sent out an APB on a 1997 GMC Savana Cargo Van as well as the plate number. I just got a hit from a State Trooper who says he spotted the van entering the George Washington and Jefferson National Forests near Goshen, Virginia about two hours ago. He radioed in for an unmarked car and they followed them until he turned off of an old service road no longer in operation outside Hot Springs, Virginia.”
Nat stood from his leaned over position. “What the fuck? The Washington and Jefferson is four hours from here. Why there? Does he know where the service road ends? Or what’s at the end of it?”
“He said there’s nothing at the end of it. There used to be one of several working hot springs that kids would sneak out to, but it’s long since dried up. It’s barren forest out there.”
I shook my head completely disagreeing. “No. There’s something out there. Otherwise why would he take her there? Think about every note Casanova has written to his victims. He’s in love with them. The whole purpose of each of those letters is to let them know they belong together, and that he’s coming for them. Think about it. Every last letter those women received before being killed were ones of anger that she wasn’t who he thought she was. I really believe that in his head, those women were a substitute. At least until he found the real Madeline. She’s been his target all along. Now he has her. And he’s expecting her to love him back. There’s always been a desperate tone to his notes when it comes to her loving him like he loves her.”
Nat pondered my words. “You’re right. Madeline is smart too. She’s been studying this guy for months. Knows how he thinks. What makes him tick. She’s going to play along with him, placate him, get inside his head and know exactly how to act and respond. She also trusts us to find her, which means she’s going to do everything she can to stay alive.”
Kurt turned in his chair, stood, and reached into his desk drawer, withdrawing a Glock 9mm standard issue gun, surprising the hell out of us.
Who knew the IT geek could handle a weapon?
“What are we waiting for? Let’s go get your woman and bring an end to this piece of shit.”
His words startled us into action and we raced out of the office, Kurt keeping up with us every step of the way.
Chapter 26
Madeline
“Grady, listen to me. You’re stronger than him. Don’t let him take over. Fight. I know you can do this.”
He paused for a minute, his face rigid in concentration, like he truly was fighting. Then, his expression changed and insidious, mocking laughter fell from the demonic smile crossing his face, and he took several more steps closer. “Give it up, Doc. Grady is gone. I’m the one in charge now. I’m going to enjoy cutting your heart out and fucking that sweet pussy of yours. That’s one thing I never did with my other girls. They were pure, unlike you. You like the feel of a cock inside you.”
I almost vomited at his words. Then it hit me. I was a brilliant psychologist who knew what the fuck I was doing when it came to my patients. If anyone saw me now and what I was prepared to do, they’d think I’d lost it. But there was no way in hell, I was going out like this. Not when I hadn’t exhausted all my options yet. Armed with a pair of brass balls courtesy of watching Nathaniel in action, I drew upon some inner strength and started to laugh. I laughed and laughed until I was almost hysterical. Which was my whole intent since Bad Grady stopped short. I wiped away faux tears.
I sneered up at him, my expression twisted into one of disdain. “You’re so fucking worthless. Even your dad thought so. That’s why you killed him isn’t it? He knew what a sad and sorry piece of shit you are. You think you’re some bad ass, whatever your name is, but deep down inside you’re still the little pussy who gets pushed around on the playground. Deep down, you’re still Grady. You’re that pitiful kid who got bullied and had to have a girl put your bully in his place, because you were too scared to do it. You can come up with however many alters you want to make yourself feel better, Grady, but you’ll always be useless. Your father was right. You never should have been born.”
It was like every molecule had been sucked from the room, the air was so still. I wanted to keep egging him on, but I’d just dealt a mocking blow, and I needed to see what the outcome would be first. I didn’t want to push too hard and sever the connection between Grady and Jordan. Besides, I had no idea how many alters I might be dealing with. As I watched though, there was such a long pause with no backlash that I wondered if ‘Jordan’ was dissociating again and a new alter, or Grady, was going to appear.
“Shut the fuck up,” Jordan, or whoever was now present, screeched, spittle spraying from his lips in his rage. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I’d clearly pushed a button. Dissociative Identity Disorder was not my area of expertise, and the study of the topic had evolved so much since I was in school. However, the roots of the disorder were static. History of childhood physical, emotional, sexual abuse, or PTSD. In Grady’s case I didn’t know which of those made up his psychosis, but regardless, based on this reaction regarding his father, I knew I’d hit it on the mark.
“You and I both know I’m right, don’t we, Jordan? Poor Grady had to create you to cope with the abuse you suffered from your father, but deep down, you are Grady and he’s you. Your father still beat the shit out of you. Maybe even touched you.”
Jordan covered his head with his hands, shaking it back and forth, his face distorted like he was pain. He began to mumble, his voice gaining strength until eventually he was loudly berating himself. It was weirdly fascinating to watch the interaction. I knew that the true conversations were going on inside Grady’s head, but to see them manifesting themselves externally was something I’d never experienced before. My clinical side wanted to study him, which was totally fucked up considering the circumstances.
I was so distracted by my own thoughts, that I didn’t realize the room had gone silent. My gaze darted to Jordan, who now sat with glazed over eyes, like he was lost in the memories.
“The first time it happened, I was ten. I’d missed the bus coming home from school. It wasn’t my fault. One of the boys in my class had hidden my backpack. I spent forever looking for it, so by the time I found it, the bus had already left. My dad was so mad. He’d had to leave work to come pick me up, because the school couldn’t get a hold of my mom.” His recitation was monotone and completely devoid of any emotion. It was creepy as hell. It was like he was telling me someone else’s story. I also recognized that, for the moment, Grady was back. There was the lost little boy quality to him.
“Your dad hit you.” It wasn’t a question.
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. One that was utterly hollow sounding. “Hit me is putting it mildly. He beat the shit out of me. Cracked a couple ribs. I was left with black and blue bruises for weeks. All under my clothes though. He never hit me where anyone could see.”
“Why didn’t your mom stop him?”
Finally, he glanced at me. “For someone who’s so smart, you’re kind of dumb. My mother was your typical abused spouse. She tried to protect me the best she could, but most often got a black eye for her trouble.”
It was no wonder he had set me so high up on this pedestal of his. I’d stuck up for him. Something even his mother hadn’t done for him. Not really.
I was hesitant to ask my next question, but I wanted answers and knew Grady would be the only one willing to provide them. “When did Jordan show up?”
“After you left Mill Valley.”
There was so much accusation in his response it was like a punch to the gut. It left no doubt that Grady blamed me entirely for his disorder, even as he continued to profess his love for me all these years. Why he sent me all those letters. Yet, I was still curious.
“Is there anyone else in there?” I gestured to his head.
He shook his head. “Just Jordan. He’s getting stronger though Madeline. He’s staying the primary alter for longer and longer periods of time.”
I wasn’t surprised by his admission. “He’s staying longer because you’re letting him, Grady. You continue to put yourself in situations that make him want to return. You’ve been living with this DID for, what, twenty-five years? You know how the disorder works.”
He collapsed into the chair, his shoulders slumped and head hung in defeat. “I know, but I don’t know what to do.”
“You have to turn yourself in. You’ve killed five women, Grady. Jordan may have been the alter present at the time, but they’re still going to blame you. The good thing is, you’ll get the help you need. It’s the only way to stay in control and save lives. You’re stronger than he is. You can do this.”
I sat in silence, waiting, praying while he continued to sit in what I hoped was contemplative silence. Then, his shoulders stiffened and he sat up straight.
Proud.
Strong.
Then he nodded like he’d made a decision. “Let’s call in your boyfriends.”
I sagged in relief and barely held back the sob of happiness. “Thank you, Grady. You’re doing the right thing.”
His smile was a little sad as he rose from his chair. He held out a hand, one that, no matter what decision he’d just made, I was reluctant to take. In a show of good faith, I placed my hand in his. I screamed when he jerked me toward him, spinning me around and trapping my back against his front. A burning pain spread across my neck. I struggled, even as I could feel a warmth running down my chest.
“Stupid bitch,” Jordan spat against my cheek, the bloodied knife flashing in front of my face. “Did you really think I was going to go away that easily? You said yourself how worthless Grady was. I can’t believe how fucking gullible you were to think that you could bring that pussy back so easily. Please. Grady’s gone. I’m the one in charge now. Can you feel your heart pounding? That rush of fucking adrenaline?”
I could hear his voice, but I couldn’t make out his words while I gasped for air. My hand went to my throat and found wetness there. He hadn’t sliced an artery, but I was still bleeding profusely. My body was in shock. I couldn’t fight. I was completely numb.
“I’ve wanted to see you bleed for months, Madeline. The sight of it now spreading across your shirt makes me hungry for more.”
Jordan ground his pelvis against my ass, his erection telling me exactly what he was hungry for. Bile rose in my throat, burning a path upward, but I swallowed it down. The pain in my neck truly registered, and tears scorched a path down my cheeks. I didn’t want to die like this.
Still holding me against him, he propelled us forward toward the hallway that I presumed led to a bedroom. The synapses in my brain finally started firing, because my fight mechanism kicked in and some of the self-defense moves my friend, Connor, had taught me suddenly came to mind. My body went completely limp and while I collapsed, I grabbed Jordan’s forearms, breaking his hold on me. The minute my knee hit the floor I drove an elbow upward into his groin. He hunched forward in agony. I jumped to my feet and with both fists gripped together to form a club, I used all my force and momentum to bash my hands against the side of his head. I turned and raced for the door, throwing it open and rushing outside.
Not wanting to waste any precious seconds, I took off down the driveway and headed toward where I thought I remembered the road being. It was the middle of the night and even with the full moon shining down, visibility was limited. I stumbled on the rocks, but thankfully kept my balance, but just barely.
“There’s nowhere to go, Madeline,” Jordan roared from somewhere behind me. My pace didn’t slow and I didn’t look back. Arms pumping, heart racing, I sucked in lungfuls of air as I sprinted as fast as I could. I had no idea where I was and I warred with myself. Did I stay on the road and hope for a car to possibly come by, even though the chances were slim to none given how late it was and the fact we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere? Common sense told me to try and hide in the forest until morning light and then make my escape. The decision was made for me when I spotted the brightening lights coming from around the curve in the road and the sound of a vehicle.
I began waving my arms wildly. “Help! Please, help me!”
Suddenly, the wind was knocked out of me as I was tackled from behind. My vision blackened when my head slammed against the concrete.
“You fucking cunt.” I could barely make out the words from the ringing in my ears. “I’m gonna cut your fucking heart out of your chest.”
“Freeze! Put down the knife. Now.”
I turned my head but quickly squeezed my eyes shut when the glare of headlights almost blinded me.
“I said, put the knife down. Or don’t, because I’d really like to put a bullet in your Goddamn brain.”
The concussion I most likely had must be making me hear things, because I could have sworn that was Nathaniel’s voice.
“Angel, are you okay?”
I whimpered and choked back a sob. I wasn’t crazy. Joseph was the only one who called me ‘angel.’ They were here. My eyes opened and I looked up at Jordan who was straddling my stomach.
“I’m okay,” my voice came out shaky and hoarse. God, my throat hurt so bad.
The white of the headlights illuminated his features. The knife was clutched tightly in his fist and rested on his thigh. I could see his muscles twitch like he was resisting any movement. He was looking down at me with so many emotions it was overpowering. Behind the hatred, I also saw love. Mostly, though, I saw sadness and defeat. Jordan knew that it was over. His face then became expressionless and he zoned out. I knew he was dissociating.
He blinked and focused his gaze back on me. Grady had returned. He looked down at the knife, then up at my men, then back toward me. His expression shifted to something undefinable.
“I’m sorry. For everything,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
It all happened so fast. Grady roared, raised the knife now clutched in both fists in the air, and I flinched, my eyes slamming shut as I prepared for death. Gunshots sounded and I felt his entire body jerk and twitch. My eyes flew open and his body was frozen, a pained expression on his face. The knife fell from his upraised hands, metal clattering against the pavement, the sound coming loudly from next to my ear. I could only watch as dark, crimson spots formed on his clothes, growing larger with each passing second.
