Shadows and Light: The Complete Series, page 34
“You’re using her. She’s all alone, Raúl. When I agreed to this crazy plan, she was never supposed to be in any danger.”
“Give us some credit, amigo. He wants her, but I’ll never allow him to touch her. She hasn’t found anything.”
Jared couldn’t swallow. His mind wouldn’t function. “So, the kid, Danny?”
“Merlot. Police report says that Danny reported to after-school detention in the library. The principal released him around four-thirty. Erin Merlot was waiting right outside the school. When Danny never showed, she got worried and went in looking for him.”
“So he could have come out, not seen her, and walked home.”
“No, the sister wasn’t alone. One of Danny’s friends was waiting with her. Danny Merlot disappeared somewhere between the library and the front foyer of the school.”
Jared just shook his head. “That’s some fucking nerve even for Mendoza.”
“It’s sick, fucking sick. Danny’s ten years old.”
“Does Jennie know?”
“No.” Raúl twisted in his seat and looked directly at Jared. “I can’t figure out what Mendoza’s up to, Jared. He wants her preoccupied for some reason. That’s not hard because Louise Cunningham died tonight.”
“Ah hell. Where’s Jennie now? She’s not alone, is she?”
“Before I left, she was at the hospital and the priest was with her. She probably won’t find out about Danny until she gets back to her apartment. I’m surprised the police haven’t hunted her down for a statement.” He penned Jared with a stare. “I’m sure she’ll suspect Mendoza. If she doesn’t contact you or Noah, she’s trying to protect you.”
“This is a fucking nightmare. You should have contacted me the minute the kid was shot. Damn it, Raúl, I counted on you.” Jared rammed his palm into the dashboard. Both men glared at each other as the rain beat up against the window shield, drowning out any other sound.
Raúl shook his head. “I hope that made you feel better. I get that you’re pissed, but swallow it, because there’s more. I figure Mendoza had Ivan pick up the kid and store him somewhere. He’ll use him to draw out Jennie; a trade maybe,” Raúl said, staring at Jared. “My question is why does he need the kid? Mendoza could’ve gotten to Jennie anytime in the last eight years. His behavior doesn’t make any sense; it’s erratic, but it’s a change.”
Jared reached out and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Have you made a plan for what you are going to do after we send this bastard to hell?”
“Yeah, I’m getting out. Anita wants to open a flower shop. That sounds wonderful right now. I’m going to become my wife’s delivery man and thank God for every minute while I’m doing it.”
Jared smiled, picturing his friend delivering flowers. The day couldn’t come soon enough.
“I need to return this rig and head back to my roost before I’m missed. You know what I know.” Raúl reached over Jared and opened the passenger door of the carrier. “I know how hard this is for you, but it’s not going to last much longer. Contact Mac and tell him to keep alert, keep my family safe.”
Jared stepped out of the cab and faced his friend. “Your family doesn’t need a dead hero to mourn. Watch your back.” He slammed the door and tapped on the window. “And put this thing back exactly where you found it!”
Jared watched the carrier exit the rest area and tried to remember why he agreed to this absurd plan. What was he thinking? His heart ached for Jennie. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms tightly around her and shield her from the pain. Would she even welcome him? The fact that she never contacted him after the shooting meant one thing: She believed she couldn’t count on anyone but herself.
How was he going to tell her how he stood by and allowed that cretin to watch her every move? You’re such a dumbshit, Jared McNeil.
• • •
Standing outside the ICU, Jennie watched Mrs. C.’s body as it was placed on the gurney. The two orderlies discreetly covered her head with the sheet and wheeled the gurney though the door without making eye contact. They continued down the corridor until they reached the elevator. Jennie just stood there as the elevator doors opened and the gurney was pushed inside. Before her eyes, the doors closed, and Mrs. C. was gone.
Is that it? What am I supposed to do now?
The questions flew through her mind. Staring back into the room, Jennie’s eyes centered on the unmade bed littered with bloody gauze and tape used to hold the IV in place. The bed still held the long tubing and IV needle that only a few minutes earlier were attached to Mrs. C.’s arm. The green lines on the monitor continue to run straight across the screen mocking her; she is gone … she is gone.
The urge to return to the brownstone overcame her. It was the one place that Mrs. C.’s presence was everywhere. And once at home, she would fall asleep on her futon and dream of her parents. She would wake up inside the dream with her head resting on her mother’s lap, while her father paced the carpet in front of the sliding glass door. In the morning, her mom’s perfume would still linger in the room.
By the time Jennie unlocked her apartment door thirty minutes later, the adrenaline she had been living on since Mrs. C.’s stroke completely drained out of her system. She was dead on her feet. Her shoulder bag felt like it was loaded with brinks so she allowed it to slip off her shoulder onto the floor. As if on autopilot, she began her bedtime ritual.
She moved into the kitchen, filled a glass with water from the sink, and placed it on the coffee table. In her bedroom, Jennie opened a drawer and grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms. Removing her jeans, she left her camisole on and pulled the lightweight bottoms up to her hips. She ambled into the small bathroom, took a clean facecloth, ran warm water onto it, and placed it on her face. As she lowered the cloth, she raised her head to stare into the mirror. Staring back at her was her face and a man she barely knew. Before she could utter a scream, a chloroform-soaked cloth covered her face.
Chapter Fourteen
Ivan leaned back on the sofa with his feet resting on a worn-out oval coffee table and glanced at the four security monitors hanging on the wall. The prerecorded basketball game played muted on the flat screen television posted under the monitors. The game was far more interesting than the dark empty apartment. One more hour and his shift would be over.
“What the hell am I doing here?” Ivan bellowed, as he tossed an empty crumpled bag of chips across the room. Why was he back in Baltimore? It wasn’t like Mendoza to send him on babysitting duty. He had been the enforcer for the last ten years and deserved better than this.
He knew the outcome of the game, so it didn’t keep his interest for long. Even tormenting his guest held no pleasure. His weapons lay cleaned and ready on the end table. The 200 push-ups and sit-ups he completed several minutes earlier kept him from falling into a snooze fest.
Ivan’s eyes darted to the top left screen just as his target entered the apartment. Well, it’s about fucking time. He watched as she removed her blouse, strolled into the kitchen, and returned with a glass of water. He continued to watch the scene play out as she went into the bedroom and began to undress.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said, sitting up straighter on the sofa. “Take it all off.” Ivan groaned as Jennie entered the bathroom, the one blind spot in the apartment. “Ahh, damn, now that’s not fair. I waste hours staring at three fucking empty rooms and that’s all I get to see?”
A slight movement in the right monitor caught his attention. “Well, who the hell is that?” Ivan darted from the sofa and moved closer to the screen. He adjusted the focus. A man snuck from out of the closet and scuttled across the room. Ivan’s cell phone blared on the coffee table. He didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.
“Are you watching the apartment?” Mendoza roared so loud Ivan yanked the phone away from his ear.
“Yep, is that someone you know?” A perfect image of the man entered the bathroom.
“Hell no! How did he get in there without you or Raúl seeing him?”
Ivan didn’t answer because he had no idea. No one entered the apartment while he was on duty.
The man carried Jennie’s unconscious body into the bedroom and laid her on top of the comforter. With extreme care, he meticulously positioned her. Her hands were then secured to the headboard with cording, her legs spread-eagled.
As Ivan watched the scene play out, his pulse quickened.
Using the throw pillows, the man positioned her head so it tilted slightly upward with only one eye visible. He placed his fingers inside her mouth, forcing the jaw open, and stuffed a wad of cloth almost to her throat. Using another long, narrow strip of cloth, he wrapped it around her head, tying it in place behind her neck. The whole process took only a minute to perform.
“I have been watching all night, Jefe. He didn’t come in while I was here, that’s for damn sure. You know me better than that. What do you want me to do?” A smile formed at the corners of his mouth. Nice foreplay.
“Take care of him and find Raúl. If that slimy bastard touches a hair on her head, you both pay. You got that, Ivan?” The roar from the other end of the line was so loud Ivan held the phone at arm’s length.
“Got it, Jefe.” Ivan slammed his cell shut and placed it in his pocket. Loading his weapons, he headed down the hallway toward the extra bedroom.
“I have to go out for a while. Can I get you anything?” Ivan laughed out loud at the panic that spread over the kid’s face. He yanked at his restraints. The harder as he pulled, the tighter the line became.
“No? Good, I’ll be back in a few. We can play again later.”
Ivan jogged across the street, snatched a key from his inside pocket and unlocked the front door. Inside the foyer, he glanced down at his iPhone and took a moment to watch the scene in the bedroom. He used another key to unlock the upstairs apartment. Without making a sound, he entered the living room, his eyes never leaving the screen. How he wished he could have five more minutes to watch. This blows. I don’t have any fun.
• • •
Jennie’s eyes flew open, and fear like she had never known pulsated through her. She couldn’t catch her breath as the sound of her heartbeat drummed inside her ears. Her mouth was completely dry, her tongue trapped by the cloth choking her.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath through her nose. The overpowering scent of Aramis cologne permeated the air and made her want to gag. The years of martial arts training almost went out the window until Jennie’s thoughts broke through the fear. Assess the situation, find their weakness, and act on that weakness. She repeated the phrase over again in her head. You’re in control. As she chanted the words, she appraised the condition of her arms tied to the headboard. No help there.
Panic began to take over. With the cloths shoved in her mouth, she couldn’t exhale easily. Her breathing became erratic. Out of the corner of her eye, he came into view. He leaned in close and the tip of his finger lightly brushed across the side of her face down to her neck. Jennie saw what was in his hand and frantically yanked on her restraints.
“No! No! Don’t move again. Shit! You see what you made me do?” The man roared out in a high, screeching voice. The tempered steel blade of the scalpel replaced his finger as he made a thin incision across her throat.
Jennie’s nostrils filled with the metallic odor of the blood as it dripped down onto her chest. For some reason, there was no pain.
He slapped her cheek. “Keep your eyes on me, my girl. Yes, that’s it, now I have your attention, don’t I? Ahh you moved again, didn’t you?”
He ran the knife across her throat a couple centimeters from the last line. This time both incisions began to throb. Jennie tried to shut her eyes and just breathe through the burn, but she couldn’t keep the tears at bay.
“I told you to keep your eyes on me! That’s right. I’m the teacher and you’ll pay attention to me. We don’t want this to be over before we even begin now, do we? No, we’re here to get to know each other. Now, look at me, my sweet. I said look at me!”
Jennie’s eye darted to his face. She frantically worked to gain control of her terror. All she had to do was stay calm until she found a way out.
She knew this man. What was his name? Greg. The new third-grade teacher. He was her stalker. The feeling was so strong. How did I miss it tonight? I should’ve felt him.
At the corner of her eye, a man-size shadow appeared in the doorway. She fought her restraints again while screaming through the cloth in her mouth.
“You are not listening to me. What are you looking at?” he screamed, losing control.
A shadow came closer, growing in size on the wall as he entered the room. Seconds later, the shadow changed. The man pulled a handgun out of his shoulder harness. As soon as he raised his arm, the familiar tattoo from the shoulder to the wrist came into view. Jennie knew exactly who this man was. She froze, helpless.
The man who killed Quinton met her gaze. The corners of his mouth lifted and he winked. He strolled over to the bed and held a gun at arm’s length, almost touching the man’s head. “No!” Jennie screamed through the wad in her mouth. “Don’t shoot him — wait!” Each word muffled, incoherent.
“I’ll slice her throat in two. I will … back off or she’s dead.” With each word, Greg’s voice grew higher, almost a shrill pitch.
The man jabbed his piece against the back of Greg’s head and laughed. “No, I don’t think so. You picked the wrong woman, friend. Mendoza’s property. Enjoy hell.” He pulled the trigger.
The force of the shot spattered chunks of Greg’s face over Jennie, drenching the fabric-covered headboard, and the entire wall behind the bed with blood. Jennie watched in horror as the corpse collapsed on top of her in a heavy heap.
What frightened her even more was she knew Mendoza watched and he continued to watch her. The screams erupted from somewhere deep within her, consuming her until there was nothing but darkness.
Chapter Fifteen
Mrs. Cippolla watched from across the street as a tall, thin man entered the brownstone. Her best friend in the world had died only a couple of hours before, and the jerk thought he would break into her home. Grabbing the phone off its base, she dialed 911.
“The nerve of some people,” she said to herself. She gave the operator all the information then moved closer to the window for a better look. Just as she eased the thin curtain away from the window, Louise’s front door opened, and the man sauntered down the steps. He crossed the street, glanced right at her, and waved. Speechless, Mrs. Cippolla glared back. As soon as he was out of sight, she picked up the phone and called Father Anthony.
• • •
Father Anthony rushed down the sidewalk, arriving at the brownstone at the same time as two police officers stepped out of their cruiser. One of the men darted in front of Anthony, placing his arm in the doorway. “You’ll have to wait outside, Father.”
“Jennie McKenzie lives upstairs,” Father Anthony explained.
“Let me just go check and see if it’s safe. I’ll let you up as soon as I can.” The officer turned and entered the building.
Father Anthony jogged back down the steps and met Mrs. Cippolla on the sidewalk. “Are you all right, Mrs. Cippolla?”
“I’m so worried about Jennie. She arrived home around midnight. A few minutes later, this man just unlocks the door and walks right in like nobody’s business. When he came out, he looked right at my window and actually waved at me!”
“Have you ever seen him before?” Father Anthony took her arm and helped her sit down on the steps of the brownstone.
“No, never. He’s not from around here, but I could identify him if I had to. He had all these tattoos all over his neck and arm, real mean looking.” The older woman twisted her hands together. “Where’s Jennie? Why hasn’t she come down to let us know she’s okay?”
“I’m going to check on her myself. Are you okay here alone?”
“Yes. Go,” she said with a wave of her hand.
As soon as Anthony entered Jennie’s apartment, the officer stopped him.
“I told you to wait downstairs,” the officer said, trying to block his view. The door to the bedroom was opened into the living room.
The pungent scent of blood hit Anthony’s nostrils. He glanced toward the bed and gasped. The entire back wall was spattered with blood and long drips still streamed down the wall, staining the once pretty floral wallpaper pattern.
“Dear God,” was all that came out of Anthony’s mouth. Pushing the officer out of his way, he charged toward the bedroom calling Jennie’s name.
The second officer finally succeeded in stopping the priest. “The blood belongs to the perp, Father. Miss McKenzie is hurt, but it appears she passed out from the trauma, not her injuries. I’ve called the EMTs. They should be here any minute. You can’t be in here. You’ll contaminate the crime scene.”
“Jennie,” Anthony yelled, desperately searching for some sign of life from his friend still tied to the bed. “Can you hear me, Jennie?”
The police officer shoved Anthony back into the living room. “You need to wait here and allow us to do our jobs.”
“Contact a detective named Jared McNeil. He’s the head of the task force looking for the Beltway Killer.”
“I’ve been ordered to secure the crime scene. The detectives are on their way. We don’t know who this guy is, Father. It may not have anything to do with those murders.”
“You don’t understand. McNeil needs to know about this whether it’s the guy or not. If I had the number, I’d call him myself.”
The officer studied Anthony for a moment, grabbed his radio, and gave the information to the dispatcher. “Step back out of her view, okay,” the officer said. “It’s going to be traumatic enough without her knowing you saw her in that position. As soon as the paramedics say it is okay for you to see her, I’ll let you know.”
