As the girl, she was blonde, with pink overalls and a purple shirt, got into the car, her father punched the back of her head, sending her sprawling into the back seat of the car. He slammed the passenger door and spit on the ground. He got into his car and pulled away from the restaurant. Jasper watched and when he could, he exited himself. The car was far ahead, but he caught up.

  The car was a shit brown color, figures, shit color for a shit bird. He took a bite of his burger as he drove. Chewing methodically. Hamburger, humm, I’ll be making hamburger soon, won’t I? Maybe a shitburger from a shit bird. He thought. Fee Fi Foo Fum, I’ll grind you bones to make hamburger, shit brown, shit bird hamburger pie.

  The car turned into a residential area and Jasper followed. The shit brown car began to slow down and Jasper watched as it pulled into a drive way. He looked at the mail box. Guess. Well, Guess who is coming for dinner to make hamburger pie? Jasper held back and watched as the man got out. He could see that the man’s face was still red. He was yelling now for the girl to get out.

  When the girl opened the door, the man reached in and yanked her out by the arm. He flung her in front of him and the girl practically ran in the house. A woman appeared in the door, Jasper could see worry on her face and the man shoved her in and slammed the door.

  Ah, death comes in three. Well, we can do better than that, now can’t we? We can grind this fucker up nice and neat, a real raw meat. Make it juicy, and squishy. Numm numm nummy num. I’m hungry already, Jasper thought smiling. Jasper looked in the rereview and then pulled back out onto the street. He ate the rest of his dinner on the go. Yeah, this shit bird will have a little to answer to. Jasper began to whistle, I’m back in the saddle again.

  Ϫ

  Les looked out his window for the tenth time in an hour. His door was locked and he’d shoved a shelf in front of the door and double checked all windows. He parked his car where he could see it from his window. He’d been doing this routine for a few nights now. Each night had been like a ritual, setting the furniture in place.

  He had to, he couldn’t sleep otherwise. That bastard might not be coming for him, or he might. But Les wasn’t taking any chances. He knew he was being foolish and paranoid, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He kept having nightmares about someone hammering his teeth out. Didn’t they say something about dreaming about teeth?

  Did dreaming about losing his teeth mean he was losing his mind? Or the fact that someone was bashing them out, was that a warning of some kind? Or just his over active imagination and total terror of finding that tooth? He thought that perhaps that was the one, terror.

  He was going to stop by a hardware store and pick up a couple of extra locks and a door jam. If he thought he could, he’d get an electric screwdriver and sink screws into every window and the door. Okay buddy, pull it back a bit, he told himself.

  For now, he thought he was safe. He’d just keep his phone near him and fast dial if he needed the police. He watched tv for a while, but then got up to look out the window again. He was so wound up, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was glad he’d not gone to the crime scene that horrible day. Once had been enough. Jesus.

  He got on his computer and began to write. It would be for the final article. He’d called Ross to let him know that he wouldn’t be writing anymore until the mad man was caught. He’d write what ever else he could, for Ross, but for now, he wasn’t touching the task force.

  “Jesus Les, are you okay? Did he try to get into your place?” Ross had asked.

  “No, thank god, but Detective Shin agrees, that I hold off on publishing anymore about this case until they solve it. I won’t be going back to the task force until they catch him. Then, Olivia said she would sit down with me and do an in-depth interview.”

  “That’s too bad, but I understand. Jesus H. Christ.”

  “I wish I could help them more, but the killer just isn’t leaving much. No one has seen him and only one person heard his voice. The tooth that was on my car had a clothing fiber fragment. That’s something. The police are hoping to find a print on the tooth, but it’s so small, I doubt they will get anything.”

  “Do you need a couple days off?” Ross asked.

  “No, I need to work and I’ll get back in tomorrow.” He’d said and then hung up.

  He was glad he at least watched the bar video. It helped to see that no one was watching the victim. No looming harbinger of death. Everyone in the bar was in their own little world. He hoped that Olivia could get somewhere with the fiber from the tooth. She said it would take a little time for them to narrow down the origin of the fiber. Dye and all that.

  But the fact that the fiber was dark, as in dark like a cop’s uniform kept going around and around in Les’s brain. Could he have even talked to the killer at the precinct? Could the killer have laughed with him? Would Les have even known it? He doubted it.

  Les began to type on his computer and soon he was writing about everything that had happened. He poured it all out, filling the document with all his thoughts and feelings. He’d eventually put this into his book as well as the final article. After some time, he looked at the time. It was near nine. He was tired, and after writing, he felt a lot better.

  He got up and turned off the lights. He went to the window and looked down at the car once more. All was quiet outside. He went into his bedroom and he shut the door and locked it. Then he moved his dresser in front of the door. He knew he was being foolish, but he was afraid. He’d never been afraid like this, not even with Donovan.

  He went to the bathroom and took a shower. He let the hot water melt the tension in his back and neck. He was glad to be going to work tomorrow. He liked and respected Olivia, but he didn’t know how she could do it, day after day. The more he got to know her, the more he admired her. She was one hell of a woman. He crawled into bed, he was exhausted.

  Ϫ

  Olivia sat with Jeff on the couch. The girls were in bed. Bob was passed out from running the parameter of the backyard fence. Tubbs was asleep beside him, their daily squabbles forgotten.

  “Do you think something is wrong with Bob? He keeps running around the yard?” Olivia asked, looking at the mutt.

  “No, I think he’s just stupid.” Jeff laughed.

  Olivia sniggered and looked up at her husband.

  “That wasn’t very nice.” She admonished.

  “Then why did you laugh?” He grinned, his dark brows waggled.

  They watched more of the program and then her husband asked her. “Should we be worried about this guy showing up here?”

  She could hear the concern, but she was glad, she didn’t hear fear.

  “No, I don’t think so. I think the killer meant the tooth as a gift, to Les. I guess he liked the article Les wrote. I’ve advised him to stop for now.”

  “Good advice.”

  “With that tooth, there was a small piece of evidence. So, the guy does make mistakes. That is very good.” She said, enjoying the feel of her husband’s fingers as they raked through her hair. It was always relaxing when he did that. He knew she liked it.

  “God, I hope you can catch him, but I have a bad feeling.” Jeff said softly and kissed the top of her head.

  “Me too honey, he is escalating, and I don’t know how to stop him.”

  “Just remember honey, this isn’t your fault, you’re doing the best you can. Period.”

  “Thanks babe.”

  “How do you feel about the cop theory? And being around those who might well be the killer?”

  “I’ll have to say that it’s making me a little paranoid. I keep wondering when I speak with an officer, is this him? Is this the killer? It’s driving me bonkers, but I don’t know what else to do?”

  “I think a little paranoia is good. I don’t think I’d like it if you were ambivalent about it.” He said, kissing her hand.

  “Trust me, I’m about as far away from ambivalent as anyone could be. I do feel really bad for Les though, he’s going back to work, and waiting until we solve this case before he writes again about it.”

  “I can’t say as I blame him, no thanks.”

  “Yeah, he’s been jumpy and on edge since that day.”

  “Hell, I’d have to wear a diaper all the time after that, I’d be shitting myself.” Jeff laughed.

  “You’re terrible.” Olivia sniggered.

  “Oh, you think I’m joking? I’m not. Trust me.”

  “I believer you dear, from what you’re farting out now, I’d say you need a diaper on right this moment.” She laughed, and felt him squeeze her.

  SIX

  Jasper smoked his cigarette. He watched the Guess Who shit bird house with the shit brown car. He watched the family within, the wife and hubby. Looked like the kid was already in bed. His hands gripped the steering wheel. He wished he could go in there right now and play a guessing game with him. But he couldn’t. Push me, pull you. He wanted what he wanted but he knew he shouldn’t.

  One by one, the lights began to go off inside the house. He began to relax. He’d stay just a little longer, then head home. He lit another cigarette and settled back in his car. His mind drifted and he looked at the clock, it was near midnight. He didn’t guess that Mr. Guess would be going out. He started his car and pulled away.

  Sometimes he really wanted to just walk into the house and go at it. But that wasn’t smart. That wasn’t safe. He’d have to wait if he didn’t want to be jail bait. He’d make this guy look like bait, chum that would do, bloody chum to throw to the sharks. A greasy oily slick of dick and blood. A sludge across the grass. Jasper almost turned the car around but didn’t.

  He’d never been so tempted in his life to throw caution to the wind. You’re smarter than that Jack old boy, you’ve got to be keen, not a flake. But man oh man, he’d love to be in that bedroom right now, hammering away.

  Ϫ

  Olivia followed up on the videos of the bar. She and the other detectives watched. They could discern no one following Buelly, nor paying any attention.

  “I was looking at the traffic cam footage. It shows him driving home and a little over the lines. Drunk. I’m sure the tox-screen will show some kind of elevated blood alcohol levels.” John Littleton said.

  “I watched as well. I couldn’t discern anyone following him either. Unfortunately, as he gets within five miles of his apartment, we lose the traffic cams. I didn’t see any patrol cars in the area, before the call in.” Peter Brightwater added. He was eating a doughnut and Olivia eyed it. She got up, went to refill her coffee and grabbed one. She needed the sugar and caffeine.

  “It’s just so frustrating, there is no clear pattern. I’ve read your reports and interviews. The only clear thing is that each of these guys had troubled marriages. Abusive. But Christ, that is probably eighty percent of all marriages. More or less. The only ones who had an arrest was Buelly for the domestic abuse and Nate Mann. None of these other men has any arrest sheet. She said sitting back down.

  “My guy, Leon Zorn had a DUI a few years back, but that was it. I asked his wife and she denied that Zorn ever hit her or the kids. It’s the same with Seth James. His wife said the same. Either these women are lying, or there might just be another motive. Rocky marriages are a dime a dozen. Especially with cops. High divorce rate.” Brightwater grumbled. Olivia knew that Brightwater was on his second marriage and that wasn’t going great.

  They were all silent for a while. Then they went back to watching the video footage, looking at each of the faces around Buelly. The detectives looked around at each of the faces, back away from Buelly, in case someone farther back was watching. They were at a dead stop.

  “You know if that fiber turns out to be from a cop’s uniform, this is going to be a media shit storm.” Littleton said.

  “Yeah, I know. What can we do? We can only tell Chief about it for now. We let this out about our suspect being a cop and the killer will just go underground and we’ll never catch him.” Olivia said, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “You think Les will keep it out of print?” Brightwater asked.

  “Yeah, Les is a good man, that thing with the tooth spooked him. I don’t think he’ll print anything until the killer is locked up good and tight.” Olivia said.

  “Yeah, I think I’d shit myself all day long, if I knew that creep was following me.” Brightwater laughed.

  “I’m still willing to bet that the motive behind these murders is domestic violence. I don’t care what the spouses say. I think they are either in denial or out and out, lying. But what can you do?” Olivia said, frustration in her voice. She didn’t believe for one minute that all these men hadn’t abused their family members. Most of the wives the detectives had interviewed again had admitted, though some grudgingly, that their husbands had been abusive. Either toward them or the children or both.

  What angered Olivia, was that some tried to explain it away. Repudiate its veracity. Negate it. Like it wasn’t an important thing. She just couldn’t understand how someone would try to brush off abuse. She still held a grudge against her mother. She held her mother accountable for the abuse she felt at her mother’s hands.

  Some years ago, she’d confronted her mother about the abuse she’d experienced. Her mother had denied it. Denied it! She asked her mother if she had some kind of brain tumor or lobotomy, because it sure as hell was etched into Olivia’s mind and psyche. Her mother had hung up on her and had refused to talk for over six months.

  After that, Olivia had just let it lay. For her father’s sake, not for her mother. She looked at the screen once more, watching the victim. He’d hit his wife and abused her. Bastard. Well, he’d paid for it with his life, didn’t he? It would seem as though the other men had as well and now, Olivia didn’t know what to think of the killer.

  Was he a crazed maniac or a vigilante? The killer had not entered the house, he’d not hurt the family. He’d taken out an abuser. Perhaps someone that would have severely hurt a family member. Was the killer in fact doing them all a favor? Should Olivia be even thinking like that. She wasn’t sure she wanted to voice that thought out loud, she knew it would cause her fellow detectives to question her ethics.

  The police officer that had been at the very first homicide had been Officer Richard Reeder. The detective that had been on that case had passed away three years ago from a heart attack. Was Reeder responsible? He’d been at the Clermont crime scene, he’d also been at the Peach one as well. That was three crime scenes. But he’d not been at the others.

  She’d looked at all the officers and detectives involved. There were several that had been at some of the crime scenes but none of them that had been at all of the crime scenes. So that was no clear pattern there.

  The killer was choosing his victims due to domestic abuse. How did he know? Had he witnessed it? Because once more, not all the victims had been arrested or charged with assault crimes. Jesus Christ, she was driving herself crazy.

  Ϫ

  Les had made it through another night and was now sitting in front of his computer. He was starting to get tired of rearranging the furniture every night and putting things back in the morning. Perhaps he’d stop that bit of foolishness. He was sipping on a cup of coffee when the phone rang. He saw that it was Val and his heart skipped a beat.

  “Hey Val, how’s it going?” He answered, he could feel the smile growing on his face.

  “I’m good Les, how are you? I saw some of your articles on that serial killer. I wanted to tell you to be careful. I saw the news announcement about people going out in pairs and coming home alone.”

  He smiled, he could hear the concern in her voice. It was nice that she still cared and thought about him. He would not tell her about the tooth. That would only frighten her.

  “Thanks for thinking of me Val. I’m okay. How is Richard? How are the wedding plans coming along? It will be here before you know it.” He smiled. It hurt, but it would hurt more if she didn’t get on and live her life.

  “God, don’t get me started. It is a scheduling nightmare. But, you’re right, it’s almost here. I hope you’ll come.” She said softly.

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. Honestly, this is your day and Richard’s day. I want it to be only for the two of you. But if I don’t make it there, just know I’m so happy for you both. He is awesome and he is getting an awesome wife.” Les grinned.

  “Thanks, Les, you’re the best. I just wanted to touch base and make sure you’re safe. This thing with the killer is spooky. We’re all talking about it at work. The articles are wonderful too by the way.” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Thanks Val, thanks for calling and checking up. It does mean a lot. Take care and I’ll talk to you soon. Give my best to Richard.”

  “Alright, take care and I’ll talk to you later, as well.” She hung up and he held the phone and looked at it for a while. He sighed heavily and put it down. He pulled out the paperwork for the article he was working on, it was about wetland legislation. He’d work that up and get it turned in to the editor. He didn’t miss writing about the grizzly killings.

  He was finally coming off the ceiling. Today he’d swing by the hardware store and pick up a couple of locks. He really was tired of moving furniture.

  Ϫ

  Jasper smiled, the man was so drunk, he was hanging out of his car. Jasper looked around. He began to sing under his breath. “Knock knock, knocken on heaven’s door. Just like before, I’m gonna knock knock on your head, til you’re red and then, you’re dead.”

  He walked up to the man, who looked up at him.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he slurred heavily.

  “I’m the angel. I’m your angel, let me help you out of that car, cause you’re knock knock knockin on hell’s door.” Jasper sniggered and pulled the man from his car.

  “Fuck. You dropped me fucker.” The man slurred once more, having fallen to his knees.

  “Why yes, I am gonna drop you, drop the hammer down, down to the ground with the rain, boom boom boom, and the brain boom boom boom.” Jasper said as he brought the hammer down hard. The delicious sound of a melon breaking, and the small high-pitched shards of bone braking undertone of the whump.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13