Night Slashers: An Agnes McCall Mystery, page 6
“Where the hell did I park?” Victor mumbled to himself.
His head swept back and forth across the garage like a spotlight. Then suddenly he stopped and gasped. Staggering backwards Victor shook and threw his hand over his mouth.
“What the fuck? What the fuck are you doing here?” He whispered.
Clumsily, Victor dove behind a column that was much too narrow to conceal him. He peeked around the corner, eyeing the red Volkswagen, praying he hadn’t been spotted. For what seemed like an eternity he stood there with his stomach pressed up against the cold concrete, trying to mask his heavy breathing.
“She’s not there…she’s not there.” Victor repeated.
He was almost positive the front seat was empty, but fear kept him from moving. The shadows that consumed the car made it almost impossible to be sure.
“Sherri you…you better not be there.” He stuttered.
Stealthily, Victor stepped out from behind the column and cautiously moved closer and closer. He did his best to tiptoe, but his clumsy feet smacked loudly on the grimy floor. He stopped at the back of her car and sighed, relieved that it was empty. Without another thought he turned and walked away.
Doing his best impression of jogging, Victor headed for his car. His chubby feet throbbed, squeezed into dress shoes that were two sizes too small. With sweaty fingers he reached for his door and nervously fumbled with the keys. He cursed loudly regretting being such a cheap ass and not having keyless entry.
The overhead lights popped and Victor jumped. The garage went totally dark and his keys slipped from his hands and fell to the floor with a clang. Dropping to his knees Victor started feeling around the cold concrete blindly. An overwhelming sense of panic ran through him as he propped himself onto his stomach and reached under the car.
“Come on…come on.” He mumbled.
He anxiously swept his hands back and forth then froze as he heard the tapping of footsteps. They sounded heavy, not like Sherri’s narrow heels she’d always wear, but like a man. The footsteps weren’t that far away and they were coming towards him.
Victor desperately stretched his arm as far under the car as he could. He patted the ground with his hand furiously. The footsteps grew closer and closer. His finger caught the ring of his keys and he dragged them towards him. They rattled and scraped across the concrete as he pulled them and the sound echoed in the darkness like a bell.
The footsteps suddenly stopped. Victor froze and held his breath. Out of nowhere a flashlight erupted and swept back and forth across the garage. Victor tried to squeeze himself under the car, but it was no use. The bright beam inched closer and closer until it stopped on Victor, illuminating him like a spotlight.
“Victor, what the hell are you doing?” A familiar voice blared out, echoing through the garage.
In complete shock Victor rolled over and looked up. He shielded his eyes from the light and glared at Sheriff Lawson in confusion.
“I um…dropped my keys.” Victor squirmed as he stood to his feet and brushed off his pants.
He glanced to his right at Sherri’s car then quickly looked back at the sheriff. Slowly he slid to the side, forcing Lawson to look the other way. The sheriff kept the light on his face, glowering at him like a dog that had peed on the carpet.
“You need something sheriff? What brings you down here?” Victor mumbled is his most polite voice.
“Don’t take that damn tone with me Victor. I’m here on police business, official police business.” Sheriff Lawson stammered as he jabbed a finger at Victor.
“Oh, I didn’t mean a tone, just wondering how I can help you.” Victor pleaded.
With a loud pop the lights came back on, but the sheriff kept the light shining on Victor. He eyed him suspiciously as he bit his bottom lip.
“Where’s Daniel?” He spat.
“He’s in his office sheriff. He’s um, filling out paperwork. I’m just on the way to grab some food.”
“Don’t go too far.” Lawson stammered and headed off towards the elevator.
Victor grinned after him then dove inside of his car and let out a long sigh. He watched patiently as the elevator drifted away. Once it was gone he buried his face into his hands and grunted.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He repeated over and over.
Shivering, Victor cranked up the beige Volvo and put it into reverse. He swung his head around and started to back out, but suddenly slammed on the brakes. The car shrieked to a stop.
Victor started to hyperventilate. He could barely breathe. His mouth was hanging open as he struggled to take short breaths like a drowning fish. His threadlike eyes glared into the darkness, focused on the half-naked body slumped over in the back seat of his car.
FIGHT OR FLIGHT
“Sh...Sh...Sherri.” Victor stuttered, almost incoherently.
She was stretched out across the torn, black leather seat like she’d been tossed through the window. Her red dress was partially ripped off and clung to the side of her hips. Tears and mascara were dried to her face and lipstick was smeared across her cheek. Her bloodshot eyes were still wide open and her face bore the expression of someone that had died badly.
Victor whispered again. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He simply tilted his head and stared sideways into the lifeless face that he once knew. His hands shook violently and he struggled to catch his breath.
Trickles of blood ran down Sherri’s neck. It looked like her throat had been slit only moments ago. Victor stared out of the window, his eyes scanning the garage like a hawk. Although Sherri’s killer was probably still there, something worried Victor even more than that, Lawson.
Victor knew he couldn’t be caught with the sheriff’s dead ex-wife, whether he did it or not.
“Fuck! Fuck!” He screamed, slamming his fists against the steering wheel. “Why me Sherri? Why the fuck did you have to be dead in my fucking car?”
A million ideas rushed through his head; he was unable to focus on a single one. The only thing that stuck was that Lawson would have his ass for this.
Victor’s hands shook as he tried to think of what to do. He yanked at the few strands in his balding head and cursed loudly.
Suddenly, the elevator lit up and the cart started lowering. Victor snapped around and glanced out of his window at the blinking red arrow.
“Fuck! Not now, damn it!” Victor screamed.
Like a mad man he mashed the gas pedal and the Volvo swung backwards out of the parking space. He threw the car into drive and it roared, leaving a rancid smoke trail as he blazed out of the garage into the black night.
Victor flew down the cobbled streets like a race car, unclear where he was headed. He just wanted to be far away from there.
Zipping past buildings he drove faster and faster. The car screeched as he slung around corners, fleeing from his invisible pursuer. He drove for what seemed like hours, but was no more than ten minutes. The entire time he’d been in a trance, mindlessly piloting the car.
Victor finally started to slow down when he reached the industrial district of New Orleans. Tall manufacturing plants cascaded the street looming over him like oak trees. The empty alleys and dust covered windows resembled a ghost town.
He turned down a bumpy gravel road and slowly rolled through the shadows. His headlights illuminated an abandoned office building up ahead and he pulled up and parked around back. He slowly turned the car off and sighed, bringing his hands to his face. He gritted his teeth and swallowed.
Reluctantly, he looked back at Sherri’s body, which had rolled off the seat and was now resting face down on the floorboard. He stared at the back of her head and her knotted, blonde hair that was marred with blood.
“Fuck me!” Victor murmured beating his fists against his forehead.
Hesitantly, he opened the door and stepped out, the gravel crumbled underneath his shoes. He shivered in the frigid night air as he turned and looked around. The office park was nestled in between a number of steel factories on the outskirts of New Orleans. The area had been abandoned for years and aside from the light from Victor’s car it was completely dark.
Victor opened the back door and grabbed Sherri by her feet. Her shoes were missing and the stockings she wore were torn and bloody. He slowly pulled her out of the car and her body sunk to the ground with a thud.
Victor whimpered and stormed off shaking his hands.
“Get it together Victor.” He said as he slapped himself in the face.
He warily stepped back to her body and grabbed her legs again. Breathing heavily he dragged her across the gravel, refusing to look at her. He pulled her to the front of one of the office buildings and dropped her legs then took a deep breath.
All of the windows to the office had been boarded up and were sprayed with graffiti. Knocked over trash cans and empty recycle bins were spread out across the yard. Weeds had started to grow through the cement walkway and piles of rusted metal were stacked against the wall.
Victor cautiously walked around to the front door. It was tilted to the side, barely hanging on the hinges. He gave it a kick and the door swung open then fell to the floor.
He grabbed Sherri by her wrists and started to pull her inside, but stopped halfway across the door. He couldn’t see a thing inside of the office. It was like walking into a black curtain. Cursing, he turned around and headed back to his car.
He jumped inside and pulled the rattling Volvo right in front of the building so that the headlights were pointing through the door. He left the car running and walked back towards the office. He stopped in front of the doorway and looked down at Sherri’s dead body.
“Oh man! Oh man…Oh man!” He stuttered. “Why’d you have to be dead in my backseat you selfish bitch?”
Victor angrily grabbed her hands and pulled her inside. The aging floor creaked as he stepped across it. Sweating, Victor scanned the dusty office. His headlights glowed across the dirty hardwood.
It was still too dark inside and the smell of mildew radiated throughout. The middle of the office was clear and a stack of boxes and trash had been discarded in the corners. To his left there was a receptionist desk that had seemingly been untouched and he decided it would make the perfect hiding spot for Sherri.
Victor tugged at the limp body and headed towards the desk. As he slid her across the floor her dress got snagged on a nail. Victor sighed and pulled harder. With a loud rip, the dress tore and was yanked off of her hips and slid down her legs.
Victor shrieked and let go of her arms. She had bruises and deep gashes running down her legs. Her once perfectly tanned skin was now yellowing and smeared with grunge and dried blood. Her knee jutted out awkwardly to one side, her foot going the other way. She was a broken woman in every sense of the word.
Victor stood there gaping at her ragged body. He couldn’t believe he’d just seen her alive and vibrant only a few hours ago. Now she was gone, gone forever and as far as he could tell she’d died a horrible death.
Suddenly a reality fell on him like a ton of bricks. Not only had the murderer been at his office. They’d brutally murdered Sherri and left her corpse in the backseat of his car. They could’ve been after him; they could be watching him right now.
Up until this point, Victor had only been focused on not being caught with Sherri’s body. Now reality was starting to set in and Lawson tossing him in prison wasn’t his main concern.
Panic took over and suddenly every dark place, every corner looked like someone was coming to get him. There was a loud crunching noise and Victor froze. It sounded like someone walking across the gravel, like heavy steps marching towards him.
Victor’s hair stood on end and prickles ran down his arms. He didn’t move, he was frozen in fear, waiting for someone to step through the doorway at any moment.
His heart pounded like it was going to tear his chest apart. He held his breath and tried to calm his quivering hands. He strained his ears, listening for the slightest sound of movement.
Five minutes passed and there wasn’t another noise. Victor finally decided it was all in his head. He quickly grabbed Sherri’s naked body and pulled her behind the receptionist’s desk. He grabbed a dusty, green curtain that was lying on the floor and tossed it over her.
Without so much as a second glance, Victor turned and headed out of the door. He darted across the gravel and dove into his car. With his hands still shaking, he yanked the car into reverse and mashed on the gas pedal.
The Volvo roared and he sped away, kicking up dirt as he whipped out of the parking lot. He flew down the street running red lights and stop signs, swerving across the street like a mad man. Erratically, Victor veered onto the freeway and headed straight for his house.
SURPRISE SURPRISE
Daniel awoke to the sound of strange voices in an unfamiliar language. He had no idea where he was, but he was lying in mud and the smell of pig feces filled the air. His head throbbed like he’d been kicked repeatedly and his eyes were watery and burned. He tried to move his hands but they’d been bound behind his back.
“Danny, we really fucked ourselves on this one.” Tom’s voice echoed in the dark.
Daniel rolled over and looked to his side. Tom grinned back at him with broken teeth. Fresh blood trickled from a gash over his left eye. His hands and feet had been tied together as well.
“Where the fuck are we?” Daniel whispered.
“You took a pretty hard blow, didn’t think you’d remember much. We’re fucking knee deep in gook land.” Tom chuckled. “Somebody compromised our location. I’m kicking the shit out of those Langley fucks when we get back.”
Daniel furrowed his brow and scowled. He didn’t see how Tom planned on doing any of that, he was certain a gory end was in their near future.
As his eyes started to clear he began to take in his surroundings. They were under some type of hut locked in wooden cells. Three other men shared the cramped quarters with them. They were all huddled together on the ground, doing their best to avoid the swarm of mosquitoes. In the far corner a sixth man was partially buried in the mud, his body twisted and bent.
Men’s voices echoed above them. The clatter of footsteps sounded like drums across the wooden floor. It wasn’t English they were speaking, but they sounded agitated. Daniel could tell they were in a heated argument.
Suddenly a glass broke and the sound of scuffling feet could be heard leaving the room. Daniel glanced back at Tom. He was squirming around in the mud trying to reach his feet.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Not waiting for these assholes to come down here and suicide me.” Tom yelped as he pulled a sliver of broken glass from in between his toes. He put the glass in his mouth and started sawing at the ropes around his hands.
Within seconds his ropes were cut and he started working on freeing Daniel. The other men in the cell had taken notice and began to grumble and wiggle towards him.
“Hey do mine next, I don’t wanna die here.” A frail, hairy-faced soldier pleaded. His tattered uniform was soiled with blood and piss. His face was disfigured from beatings and was covered in mud.
Suddenly there was an explosion outside and gunfire erupted. A sense of urgency overcame them all. Tom frantically hacked at Daniels ropes, his face revealing a worry that Daniel hadn’t seen before. As soon as the rope snapped Daniel reached down and untied his feet and Tom ran off to free the other prisoners.
He slid to the ground and chopped and pulled at their bindings. The glass shard ripped into the rope as well as their skin, but the desire for freedom was greater than any amount of pain. As Tom looked up he could see the feet of several men running towards their cages.
“They’re coming!” He screamed back.
Daniel had finally freed his legs and darted across the cell to help Tom untie the other men. Together they all quickly crawled towards the door, Tom holding the broken glass like a knife.
There was a rattle outside of the cell, someone was fumbling with the lock. Then, without warning, a grenade went off. It blew the door open and obliterated whoever was standing outside.
Daniel was thrown backwards and landed on his back in the mud. Smoke and screams filled the tiny prison. His head rung and his vision went blurry.
He put his hands over his ears trying to block out the piercing sound. He let out a low grumble and rolled over onto his stomach.
“Daniel!” Monica’s voice snapped.
Daniel jumped up and opened his eyes to find himself in his room on the floor. He looked around as his brain cleared and he came to his senses. He was no prisoner in a Vietnamese camp, but in his New Orleans home with his wife.
“Sorry, guess…guess I was dreaming.” Daniel said as he rubbed his face.
Monica slowly walked towards him placing her hand on his head. She ran her fingers through his hair and patted his back. He sighed and let himself fall into her grasp.
Daniel didn’t sleep much, but when he did these flashbacks were pretty common. His therapist had yet to uncover the cause, but Monica was convinced Ned was helping.
He pressed his head against Monica’s stomach and the baby kicked.
“He knows his daddy is here.” Monica smiled. “Get yourself ready we have a lunch…well a dinner date before you head off to work.”
“Oh yeah? What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, nothing special, my husband is just taking me to my favorite restaurant to make up for last night.”
Daniel grinned and hopped to his feet. He stretched his hands and moaned. “I guess I can do that.” He smiled before heading into the bathroom.
Monica slapped him on the ass as he walked past her. “When are you going to see Ned again?” Monica called after him.
“Pretty soon, I’ll call him when I get out.” Daniel replied as he closed the door.
Yawning, he stumbled over to the sink. He stared at himself in the mirror and splashed water on his face. The mirror blurred and Daniel paused. His flashbacks were getting worse. He almost felt like he was in a dream now and the war was his reality. It felt so real. He could still smell the mud and the stench from the dead man lying next to him.
