A Killer's Game Page 5

  Tessa’s brow furrowed with annoyance and anger as she realized some dumb ass just ruined her remaining undeveloped photos, as her thick red light, became diluted with a rush of clean white light. Thinking it was probably her annoyingly nosy neighbor, Mr. Perkins, who seemed to think it was okay to come in and out of the neighborhood’s houses without knocking, she said “What the fuck, don’t you know you can’t-------- ” as she wheeled around, with her arms up similar to that I don’t know gesture.

  Her steam was quickly released as she realized that it was not Mr. Perkins.

  Startled, she let out a blood curling scream upon seeing a large masked man advancing quickly towards her. Even though the shrill sound pierced his eardrums, he welcomed it. The veins in her neck protruded through her ivory skin from the force of air bellowing through her wind pipe. She put her hands up in a defensive gesture, but he was as quick as a cobra. The impact slammed her against the stationary steel work table. Her sciatic nerve released a river of pain that flowed down her buttocks and legs. He had her pinned onto the table, with his forearm across her chest. Her small 120lb. frame was bearing all of his crushing weight. The coolness of the steel sent shivers down her spine. Her arms flailed and sent her Nikon and film rolls crashing to the floor. He engulfed her face with the drenched white cloth, pressing it firmly to conceal all of her airways. Her cries were now muffled as the poison was inhaled. In a natural reaction to escape the foul stench, she cocked her head to the side. The toxic fumes raped her throat, and her neck muscles strained from the stretch. Inside her ears, a high frequency buzz blocked out all other sound. The man’s face became indistinct and blurred as the poison invaded her nervous system.

  Like the flip of a switch, her mind suddenly went into survival mode, as her lungs begged for clean oxygen. Her legs were running a race, but her body was going nowhere, as they flailed in the air. Tessa desperately clawed at her assailant’s wrists and arms, because she could not reach his face. She would have went for his eyes if she could. He felt the hot slices of her French manicured daggers ripping his skin as it gathered under her nails. Feeling a warm flow trickle down his arm, he glanced over to see how badly the bitch had broken his skin. Tessa felt the weight on her chest ease ever so slightly, and in a split decision used all of her strength to bring her right knee up into his jewels. Hard.

  She could see the man’s eyes grow wide in shock, through the eye holes of his masked face, as he completely released her to cup his throbbing manhood.

  Doubling over in pain, a roaring “fucking whore!” escaped his tongue. She felt his hot spit spew onto her face.

  As he headed towards the ground, Tessa shoved him and stumbled towards the door. Her head was spinning, and her feet were unsteady. As she rounded the door frame, she glanced back and could see the fuzzy image of him in a fetal position, writhing in pain, and moaning in utter agony.

  Tessa’s mind was willing her tingling numb feet to move faster, but they would not cooperate. Her mind was clear enough to know that she needed to get to the kitchen to get her cell phone. Help was only three button pushes away. Rounding out the door, she felt her foot get caught on something, and started falling forward. Glancing down, all she could make out was a small lump of darkness. She sailed through the air towards the ceramic tile. She willed her arms to break her fall, but they didn’t move fast enough. Her skull hit the ground with a deafening crack. Everything grew dark.

  Thorne’s intense pain finally subsided. He scrambled to get to his feet as he heard a loud commotion in the hallway. His only thought was that he needed to get the hell out of there. Fast. She was probably already out of the house, or on her cell phone calling 911, or worse, the man that was her husband and his partner, Detective Lenny Shane. It wasn’t time for that yet.

  Briskly moving towards the door, he peered down the hallway. Glancing down, he saw Tessa sprawled out, face down. His backpack was tangled around her right ankle. She was out cold, with a small pool of blood oozing out from under her head. The corners of his mouth curled upward, and he clapped sarcastically.

  “Bravo. Bravo, Tessa,” he said as he approached her.

  He kneeled beside her and placed his big palm on her back. Feeling her rise and fall, he muttered in a mocking tone, “Ah. Good. I was really hoping you didn’t kill yourself, because I’m not done with you or your husband yet.” As he spoke, he emphasized the word, really. He drew it out in a long draw, so it sounded more like reeeeeeeeally.

  He untangled his back pack from her limp foot. He unzipped the pack and removed a roll of duct tape, a spool of nylon rope, and a hunting knife. The first piece of tape went across her mouth. He liked it when she was screaming, but he didn’t want anyone else to hear her. He needed to get her somewhere more isolated first. Making quick work of it, he cranked her arms behind her back. Holding her wrists together with one hand, he used his other to wind the gray sticky stuff tightly around and around her bare skin. Moving to her ankles, he bound them in the same way. He grabbed the nylon rope and used the hunting knife to cut a six foot length of it. He bent her knees up towards the ceiling, and used the rope to marry her wrists and ankles. She was going to have to stay put for awhile, while he kept up appearances.

  Satisfied she was going no where, he strode down the hallway, and into the kitchen. He pocketed her iPhone that was laying on the counter, and went out the side door to the garage. Pushing the garage opener with his spindly fingers, the door started to squeal as the motor turned the crank. Wanting to keep a low profile, he removed his ski mask, and hung it on the shiny doorknob. People might not pay too much attention to a stranger walking across the street, but they would definitely pay attention if he were wearing a ski mask. Ducking his six foot frame under the moving garage door, he strode quickly towards the Lincoln, with his head down.

  Reaching inside his black cargo pants pocket, he pulled out the keys and hit the unlock button. A chirp, chirp was the only sound on the deserted street besides his size twelve black wingtips slapping the pavement. Settled comfortably in the leather bucket, he did a three hundred sixty look around. He didn’t see a soul stirring on the residential drive. The engine purred and he pulled forward. He backed into the garage and popped the trunk before turning the car off. He stepped out of the vehicle and watched the garage door close with a final thud.

  Tessa was still out of it. In her unconsciousness, she dreamed of floating lazily in a sea of nothingness. Periodic flashes of warm, bright light pierced through her veil of darkness. Serenity settled over her, and she let the river carry her weightless body downstream.

  He flung Tessa’s limp body over his shoulder with ease. He carried her out to the garage, and placed her inside the trunk of the Lincoln. He brushed the sticky red hair off of her forehead. Ouch. That’s going to hurt, he thought. He slammed the lid shut with a triumphant look spreading across his face.

  Firing up the Lincoln, the clock radio read 7:20. He pulled out of the garage at and eased down Palm Drive, heading back to Ms. Hinkle’s garage. He would leave Tessa to her nice little nap in the trunk of the Lincoln, while he took his Jeep to go to work. He sat behind the wheel, grinning from ear to ear, like a kid in a candy store.

  CHAPTER SIX - OUT TO SEA

  Verde woke from the best sleep he had in twenty years. Sitting up, he raised himself off of the plush leather sectional, just as the sun was starting to rise. He raised both of his arms, in a full body stretch, and smiled because his back didn’t hurt, for the first time in twenty years. Sleeping on something that was thicker and more plush than a wafer, must have that effect.

  Slipping his shoes on, he shuffled into the bathroom. Locking the door behind him, he undressed down to his boxers, and walked over to the double sink vanity. Turning the water on, he stuck his head into the sink, and let the water cascade over his head and face. Pulling up on the sink stopper, he let the basin fill with warm water and two squirts of ocean breeze scented hand soap, that he pumped out of an ornate looking soap dispenser. He took what h
is Mama had always referred to as a whore bath, and redressed.

  He headed out into the morning, with his red ball cap over his damp hair, and his head low. His stomach rumbled, but he had one stop to make beforehand. Thanks to his internet search of the local area, he knew exactly where he was heading. He had to walk two blocks down.

  Browsing around inside the Walgreens, Verde filled his green plastic hand held basket with a bunch of items he needed to help with disguising himself. Things like glasses and hair color. Making his way to the cashier at the front of the store, he also filled the basket with a bunch of shit he probably didn’t need. Like smokes, and stuff like chocolate covered donuts.

  Once outside, Verde put the shopping bags inside the Florida beach bum beach bag he had just purchased. He slipped on some mirrored aviator style glasses, and lit a smoke. Leisurely strolling back towards the warehouse, Verde snuffed his smoke out in the ashtray provided on top of a trash can, before going into the McDonalds to grab a hot cakes and sausage breakfast, a large coffee, and a large orange juice.

  The entire warehouse building was as vacant as a ghost town.. He walked right back into the door at Final Touches Home Staging, that he had left unlocked.

  Settling himself behind the desk in the office, Verde Googled a little more info in between choking down his breakfast. He swallowed his last bite and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, before picking up the phone to dial.

  Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, Verde spoke: “Hey, it’s me… Yeah, I’m okay…I’m happy too…Okay…That’s what I thought too…Uh-huh….I’m headed to the marina this morning…Where am I going, what’s your address?…Got it. See you soon…I will…Bye.”

  Verde hung the phone up, and stuffed the information into his jeans pocket.

  He slurped down the last of his orange juice, and walked back to the bathroom, with his beach bag in tow. Pulling out a small grey box, he read the instructions explicitly. He mixed the two bottles of liquid into the applicator bottle. A foul smell of ammonia filled the air. Verde snapped on the oversized plastic gloves, and squeezed the gelatin like substance onto his hair. He covered it with a plastic cap, and waited.

  Thirty minutes later, Verde emerged from the restroom, looking and feeling like a new man. His hair under his red baseball cap, was now a natural looking chestnut brown. He carried the jeans and crocks in his beach bag, because he was sporting a new pair of flip flops and light blue swimming trunks printed with the outlines of different types of fish.

  Looking and feeling like he was on vacation…well, duh, he was on a vacation… of sorts, he cleaned and erased all traces of him ever being there, and walked out into the sweltering Miami summer heat.

  #

  Verde pulled a wad out of the beach bag, and handed the cab driver twenty bucks.

  “Keep the change,” Verde said, as he exited the canary yellow taxi.

  “Gracias. Muchas Gracias!” beamed the over zealous, middle-aged Latino driver.

  Verde slowly approached the tick tack toe board-ish expanse of dock. His eyes surveyed the area for movement of any kind. He could always walk the dock, and look for a craft complete with keys, but that may look too suspicious if someone saw him obviously scoping the joint out. The last thing he needed was for the cops to be called.

  The easiest and least attention drawing method, was to become someone’s uninvited guest.

  Verde’s stomach swarmed with butterflies, as his long suppressed and depraved monster started to awaken. He stood there, with his eyes glazed over the endless cobalt blue. That was one of the many beautiful things about the sea. Not only was she beautiful to look at, but she could be a willing and able accomplice.

  From his vantage point at the beginning of the dock, he only saw three people. Just down from where he stood, there was a golden skinned, shirtless middle aged man, with overgrown bleach blonde hair, whose chest and arm muscles bulged as he was scooping ice from the ice chest, and packing it into his two red rolling coolers. Too big. Too much work to take him down, and he wasn’t into running the risk of getting taken down himself. Further down and out, there was a yuppyish bean pole twenty something, on a sail boat. Verde supposed his name was Winston. Or Thornton the III, or some other proper like sissy shit name like that, who wouldn’t of lasted two seconds where he just came from. Easy target. Shitty boat. Too slow.

  Behind his aviator mirrored sunglasses, Verde’s eyes narrowed in on a buxom beauty in a provocative little sundress. With her golden glowing skin and platinum blonde hair, she looked like either a stripper, or a Hawaiian Tropic girl. He was too far away to tell. He felt himself grow hard at the thought of any woman. He had been in prison for such a long time, that he would take either one.

  He strode with purpose towards the medium sized craft. It had a below deck cabin, in which he could stow away until they got out to sea. Perfect.

  #

  By the time Verde reached the craft, the woman was entirely too busy standing at the helm, having a heated bitch fest on her cell phone. She didn’t hear or see him board the boat.

  He moved quickly below decks, hiding inside the bathroom. Verde rolled his eyes, and took an impatient seat on the porcelain throne to listen to the heated banter.

  “You know what, bitch? You two can have each other. You’re a slut, and he’s a piece of shit! No! We’re not friends. We were friends, until you and MY boyfriend decided to fuck each other. Slut. You know what, I gotta go, but you and Brad have a nice life. Oh, and Mandy? Both of you lose my number, and don’t look me up when he cheats on you too!”

  Verde heard a clamoring noise, that he supposed was her cell phone being hurdled across the boat, followed by, “Asshole!” The drama, oh the drama. The motor fired up, and they started to move.

  Verde walked out of the bathroom, and stretched out on the soft bed. As long as the boat was moving, she would be at the helm, and would be none the wiser of her guest.

  Thirty minutes into the rocking ride, they slowed, and the engine was cut. He bounded off the bed, and took refuge back on his porcelain throne, leaving the door cracked enough that he had a view of the entire cabin area.

  Thorne eyed Blondie as she descended down the short flight of stairs, into the interior cabin. Walking over to the bureau, she was still mumble bitching to herself. Grasping the elastic top of the strapless baby blue number, she yanked it off.

  Thorne’s manhood immediately stirred at the sight of her naked body, and grew even harder when watching her spray and rub the coconut scented tanning oil all over herself. She sprayed her legs, and bent over to rub the oil in, with her back to where Verde was perched. He got an eyeful of her tanned heart shaped ass and pink slit.

  He quickly ditched his swimming trunks onto the floor, and swung the door open. Blondie pivoted around completely startled. And gloriously naked. Verde quickly closed the gap between the two of them, as Blondie started to scream. Not knowing what else to do, she used the only thing she had immediate access to, and gave his face a good dose of Coppertone.

  Verde swatted the can out of her hand. It clamored onto the floor, and rolled across the cabin towards the opposite wall. Clamping his other hand over her cosmetically enhanced lips, he got her under control.

  Spinning her around, and putting her in a choke hold, he walked her towards the bed. In a calm voice, he said, “if you scream, I’m going to hurt you.” Which, was a complete and total lie. He was going to hurt her either way.

  He had never assaulted a woman in this fashion before, but it had been what? Almost twenty years since he was with a woman. Verde had his way with her. When he was completely exhausted, and unable to perform, he lit a smoke, and took a seat on an armchair, where he could still see Blondie lying on the bed in her quivering fetal position, which was as, if not more enjoyable to him as the sex.

  CHAPTER SEVEN - LET THE GAMES BEGIN

  As DetectiveLenny Shane cruised down US 41, he reached into the inside left breast pocket of his tan suede vest. Feeling the two r
igid tickets to paradise he had purchased at AAA made him anxious. It wasn’t just a nine night Mexican Riviera trip he was giving Tessa. She had been wanting him to retire his badge so they could travel and spend more time together. He struggled with it, because being a Detective was his identity. It was all he knew. But, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her, so he was anxious to see the ecstatic look it would put on her face.

  He just wanted to get through this Friday as quickly as possible, and take his honey to that fancy steak house, Ruth’s Chris to celebrate their life of thirty wonderful years together. Well, thirty wonderful years for him…her, not so much the whole time. It was also a good start to their next chapter. He had made reservations for 7:00 pm, two weeks ago. Nothing was going to ruin this day.

  Lenny pulled his candy apple red custom motorcycle into the parking lot at the Naples Police Department. He dismounted his iron horse, and used his sleeve to polish a print off of the gas tank. He had waited a long time to get her, and he was damn glad that Tessa wanted that kitchen remodel more than she didn’t want him getting a motorcycle. It was an even trade. She got her kitchen, he got his bike.