Beyond the Mask Page 19
“All due respect, I got plenty of rest today, sir. I’m good.”
Frank glanced at his clock. Eight forty. “You can stay until eleven, then I want you back home and in your bed. I’m going to need you tomorrow.”
“Thought you’d have Adams all ready for tomorrow,” Michaels said.
Frank heard the contempt in the man’s voice and wished this conversation were taking place in person so that he could slap him in the face.
“Adams is on vacation until further notice.”
“Eleven o’clock. I understand, sir. Not that I think we’re going to turn up anything tonight anyway. This guy is hiding out.”
“Probably,” Frank said. “Just stay alert and stay in contact.”
Frank hung up the phone. He thought Michaels was wrong. It was nothing he could put his finger on, but he had a feeling that something was going to happen tonight. It was as if the air had thickened around him. Trusting his feelings was one thing he had learned from his former life as a detective.
“He’s out here,” Bentley said.
Frank started and glanced at the kid.
“You think so?”
“I can feel him,” Bentley said. “It’s like when a tarantula senses pray coming towards its little hole.” Bentley turned towards Frank and his eyes were wide and blank. “You know they don’t use webs, right? They dig these holes and wait for things to crawl around the entrance.”
“Think I heard that,” Frank said. He turned back towards the road. Looking at Bentley made him feel cold.
“He’s out here. Waiting.”
Frank pulled the car onto Dartmouth; it was the center of their patrol area. The street was dark and slumbering. Frank killed the lights and parked the car in front of one of the houses.
“We’re not going to drive?” Bentley asked.
“Nope,” Frank said. He unfastened his seatbelt and turned towards Bentley.
“Why?”
“Because two moving targets have much less of a chance of meeting each other than one moving target and one stationary target.”
Bentley’s lip crooked in a smile. “Not bad, Frank. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”
“Gee thanks. Besides, there’s another patrol in the area. They’re moving.”
They sat for awhile and watched the street doze. It had been almost half an hour by the clock before either of them spoke.
“You know I kissed Katie, right?” Bentley said.
Frank’s head jerked towards Bentley. “What?”
“She never told you that?” He was smiling his little shitty smile again. Frank could sense the laugh that hid behind it.
“I don’t know,” Frank said. “She didn’t mention it.”
But he had known that fact, hadn’t he? He was sure that something had been mentioned about it. Ten years was a long time and memories had a way of fading.
“I just thought you should know.”
“You’re jealous,” Frank said.
A stormy look came over Bentley’s face. Frank used this as a sign to go on the offensive.
“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous. That’s why you said those things to me.”
“I only told you what I thought you needed to hear,” Bentley said. “She is too young for you.”
“Well I don’t care if you kissed her.”
“She wanted to go down on me, too, but I didn’t let her.”
Frank slapped him.
It was as if his hand moved in slow motion. He watched it flying towards the kid and tried to call if off, tried to get it to stop, but it was too late. The order had been sent out and his muscles were not about to break off.
The report was like a thunder clap as Frank’s open palm connected with Bentley’s cheek. The kid’s head whipped to the side and his own hand flew up to caress the injured cheek.
Frank was panting, his breaths coming out in long, hot gasps.
Finally, Bentley turned to look at Frank. That damn smile was still on his face.
“Sorry,” Bentley said. “I’m still learning how to deal with what I’m supposed to say out loud and what I’m just supposed to think.”
“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You did what you people do,” Bentley said. “You strike out in anger. You hurt with words, you just can’t bring yourselves to finish the job.”
“What, you want me to kill you?”
“You probably should,” Bentley said. He rubbed his cheek. When he stopped, Frank could see a red print on his skin. “Probably work out better for you.”
“Well I’m not going to kill you. Especially not for talking. Even if what you’re saying is horribly offensive.”
Bentley nodded as if he’d expected this response. “Tell me something, why are you seeing her?”
Frank looked out the window at the street. “I don’t know. There’s just something about her.”
“I thought so too, once,” Bentley said.
Frank turned towards him and Bentley flinched back.
“What I feel for her is nothing like what you wanted with her.”
“True,” Bentley said. “I was never interested in her body, never interested in anyone’s body really. Not for those reasons anyway.”
“I just…I need to do something. I need to expand. I need to look at the sun even when it isn’t setting.”
“What does that mean?” Bentley asked.
Frank sighed. “When I was in my coma.” He eyed Bentley. “The coma that you put me in, I had a dream.”
“I’m guess it wasn’t one about racial equality.”
“Ever the smartass aren’t you?”
Bentley smiled. “One of my charms.”
“Anyway. I had a dream about my father. He was both dead and alive in my dream. We were at the cabin that he used to take me to when I was a boy.”
Frank gazed out at the street. Lights cut through the darkness. A white Lincoln turned the corner and drove past them.
Single driver, but Frank couldn’t make out the face.
“Get on with the dream,” Bentley said.
Frank turned back to the kid. “I also dreamed about the woman that I loved. She was dead too, but alive sometimes.” Frank shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. She was a drug addict, only I didn’t know that. I knew that she’d had problems in the past, but I thought she was over all that. She had been to rehab.”
“Never trust a junkie,” Bentley said.
Frank uttered a bitter laugh. “She started using again. I didn’t know; I was always so busy with work. Trying to get ahead.”
“Married to your job.”
“She overdosed and the junkies in the house had tried to take her out. There were cops watching the house, they saw it all.”
“All drug users are idiots,” Bentley said. “No offense.”
Frank didn’t pay any attention. He was enrapt by the memory of his dream. It hadn’t faded like most of them did after he woke up.
“She was the only girl I ever loved and my Dad was the only man I ever loved. They were both trying to tell me the same thing, in their own way.”
“What did they say to you?” Bentley asked.
He was leaned close to Frank. It was as bit unnerving having him so close, and again Frank wondered what the hell he’d been thinking.
“My Dad told me that I never really started loving him until he was gone. Told me I’d never really loved Julie until she was dead either.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes and no. The thing is, at the time I wasn’t really living. Living ended after Julie died. I lived alone in a condo, didn’t go out, didn’t talk to anyone. All that I focused on was my job.”
“Well you certainly took his advice to heart, didn’t you?” Bentley said.
“I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.”
“I’m an ex-serial killer, police consultant and now your therapist,” Bentley said. “You might as w
ell accept it.”
“I did change though,” Frank said. “Running for Sheriff was something I never would have done before I had that dream. I know that it was only me talking to me. I know that my Dad wasn’t really there, but it was almost like he was. It was his final piece of advice. Basically what it boiled down to was to stop trying to die and start trying to live.”
“A quote worthy of Dr. Phil,” Bentley said.
Frank ignored him. “So I ran for Sheriff. I stopped pacing around my house all alone. I went on dates. None of them stuck, but I went.”
“And now you have Katie,” Bentley said.
“She told me that she loves me.”
Bentley’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s kind of amazing.”
“She said because of you she could never trust anyone. Had problems with men.”
“But you are her savior. You’re the one who stopped big bad Bentley.”
“This is all just a big joke to you, isn’t it?”
The smile disappeared. “Not at all, Frank. Humor is a wonderful thing and I do enjoy using it, but don’t mistake me. I am not taking any of this lightly.”
Frank ran a hand down his face. “Maybe I’m trying to hold myself back again. Maybe that taking a chance with Katie is what I should be doing. It feels right.”
“You trust your feelings don’t you?”
“Usually.”
“Well trust this one. If you think being with Katie is a good thing, then do it.”
“Thought you were the neigh-sayer,” Frank said.
“I’m what ever you need me to be.”
Frank’s phone chirped.
“Michaels?”
“Someone’s got something,” Michaels said. “Door open over on Palmer.”
Frank and Bentley exchanged a glance. “We’re right by there. On the way.”
Frank fired up the car and pulled out.
“Who’s we?” Michaels asked.
Neither one of them addressed the question. Frank could hear the crackle and static of the police band radio in the background.
“I’ve got blood. Jesus, Jesus it’s him! All units! All units now.”
Their bodies lurched as Frank sped through the curve. He saw the cruiser in front of the house and had to jerk the wheel to the side to avoid hitting it.
Frank mashed the breaks and they flew forward. Bentley was still wearing his seat belt and it hugged him and kept his back roughly against the seat.
Frank had failed to put the belt back on and his chest collided with the steering wheel. The pressure was momentary but intense. He tried to suck in a breath and nothing came.
This is it, this is how I die. Collapsed a lung or something.
Still, he ripped the door open and stumbled out of the car.
Frank was bent at the waist and he finally got a breath in, it burned all the way down his chest.
Bentley came around the car and hunched over trying to meet Frank’s eyes.
“You okay?”
“Have to get him,” Frank panted.
Bentley turned towards the house and then bent back down to Frank’s level.
“I don’t think he’s here any more.”
Frank lurched towards the door. The deputy was standing in the entrance way. Frank’s foot hit the curb and he would have gone down if Bentley hadn’t been there to offer him a steadying hand.
The deputy turned. His gun was drawn.
Frank raised his hand up, still hunched over and the officer lowered the fire arm.
The breaths were coming easier now and Frank was able to stand up straight.
“What’s going on?”
“Crime scene,” the deputy said.
In his addled mind, Frank couldn’t remember the man’s name.
“Where is Ellison?”
He was beginning to feel more like himself again. Richards, the deputy’s name was Richards.
“If he’s here, he’s still in the house,” Richards said.
Three more cruisers pulled to a stop in front of the house and deputies poured out of them. Michaels was one of them.
“Go around to the back, take them with you,” Frank jerked a thumb at the other deputies. “He might still be in the house.”
Michaels didn’t stop to ask questions, which was an unexpected blessing.
Frank turned to Richards. “Stay here at the front. We’re going in. If you hear me yelling, you come running.”
“Yes, sir,” Richards said.
Frank turned to Bentley. “Let’s go.”
There were two bodies immediately inside the house. Blood coated the floor around them and Frank and Bentley had to step carefully to avoid tracking through it.
Both bodies were men. The one closer to the stairs was lying face down and Frank saw what Richards must have seen. The thing that had made him proclaim it was Ellison. There was an index card on the back of the body. A little sliver of crystal on top of it and a number six written in red.
The other body was closer to the door and it was face up.
The white oval was streaked with blood. The eyes were open and staring. The jaw was set as if in defiance and hatred.
There were slash marks all up and down the body, the cheeks had been flayed open to reveal the muscle and tissue below. There was a large slash across the throat.
Frank and Bentley inched along the edge of this horror show. Frank pointed to the stairs and Bentley nodded.
They ascended them one at a time, making sure to stay quiet. Frank kept listening for sounds but there was nothing.
As they crested the stairs they saw another body. This one was a woman, naked, and she had not faired better than the other two downstairs.
She lay in a pool of red. Her back had been slashed at several times, most of them superficial wounds. There were two jagged holes in her back. Places where the killer had held the knife upside down, Psycho-style, and drove it down. They were on either side of her back, approximately where her lungs would be.
Her hand was stretched out as if she were trying to get away when the killer had finally finished her.
“How did we miss him?” Frank spat. “He was right here.”
“Don’t know,” Bentley said.
He opened his mouth again, apparently with more to say, but that was when they finally heard a sound. It was a gurgle, like someone choking.
It was coming from the bedroom next door. Frank rushed in that direction and flung open the door.
The room was dark, but there was enough light coming in from the hallway to see the cartoon jungle animals on the wall. A lion, a giraffe, an elephant, a tiger.
On the same wall as the door opened on, but deeper in the room, was a dark chestnut colored crib. A mobile hung motionless above the crib.
More jungle animals, only this time in they were fat and plush.
The gurgle sounded again and Frank rushed to the crib and looked inside.
A little girl, encased in a sleep sack was lying in the middle of the crib. Her eyes were open and her hands were reaching up as if trying to grab the animals on her mobile.
She gurgled again and little bubbles of spit blossomed on her mouth. Her eyes caught sight of movement and she turned to Frank and smiled.
“Thank God,” Frank said. “I guess he didn’t realize she was here.”
“I doubt that,” Bentley said.
Frank turned towards him. He was pointing across the room. Frank followed his gaze and saw a squat dresser with crib sheets and bedding piled on top of it. There was something else on it as well.
An index card with a crystal. It had the number seven on it.
II.
The sweep of the house was over. It had revealed nothing. Clearly, Ellison had been here and he had done what he did, but now he was gone.
The rest of the patrol had arrived. They were milling around the front door. As was Roman, and he did not look to be in a good mood. He kept glancing over at Frank with icy eyes that Frank had never seen before.
She was wide awake now and staring at him as she grunted around the nipple of the bottle. Rapid breaths escaped her nose as the sounds of sucking continued.
Frank looked into her eyes and she looked right back into his. Despite how hungry she was, she paused every once in a while to smile at him even though it released her grip on the bottle. Then she started sucking again.
Bentley was sitting next to him, saying nothing. Doing nothing. His hands were on his knees and he looked straight ahead as if he were playing a solo game of statue.
Michaels walked up and Frank sighed.
“Um, sir, we’d really like to conduct the investigation. Roman is anxious to get in here.”
“Tell him that I can see him,” Frank said. “When social services gets here, they can take the baby and then we can start.”
“I get that you want to run the investigation, sir.” His eyes kept flicking over to Bentley as he talked. “And I’m not going to question your methods, but maybe you might want to give the baby to one of the deputies and then we can get on with this.”
Frank glared at the man. “Go stand at your post and when social services gets here we can get started.”
Michaels walked away, shaking his head as he left.
Kind of wish Hatchet was still alive, Frank thought. Dealing with this bullshit for the rest of my career might be too much to handle.
“They aren’t wrong,” Bentley whispered. Apparently, he had learned discretion at some point in the night and was actually being mindful of the deputies who were just out of earshot.
“Shut up,” Frank said. He, too, whispered, but there was venom in his words. “You would have killed the baby, wouldn’t you?”
Bentley didn’t answer at first.
Frank turned to look at him and then looked back to the baby’s eyes almost at once. He thought he saw hurt there. Another emotion, another sign that Bentley was changing.
“That’s an unfair question,” Bentley said.
“Since when do you care about fair? Do you think it’s fair that this little girl is going to have to grow up an orphan?”
“No,” Bentley said. “And you’re right, fair rarely plays a role in what we want.”
“But you would have killed her. You would have made it quick, maybe. You killed Karen, she wasn’t that much older.”