Blood Red

Chapter 8

Richard Boyd was not a happy man. He was, in fact, a very annoyed police detective. His life would have been easier if people would have just stopped putting files into his IN box.

Instead, they kept giving him new cases. Not a bad job, he mused, except that people around these parts are disappearing in a damned big hurry. That was the problem; he wasn’t a homicide detective, he was just a schmuck in charge of missing persons.

He leaned up against the railing along the Cliff Walk, lighting his cigar with a lighter that resembled a blowtorch and had a flame strong enough to resist the winds.

All along the side of the cliffs there were lawns that seemed impossibly green for autumn, and trees that were exploding into spectacular arrays of colors. This was the time of year he liked best. Screw the summers when there were too many tourists. He didn’t need extra people in town any more than he needed increased prices at the gas pump. Then there were the winters to consider, when scraping ice off his car and shoveling snow off his sidewalks seemed to take most of his free time.

“You must think you make a pretty picture there, Richie.” The smart-ass was his partner, Danforth Edward Holdstedter the Third; better known to Boyd as either Danny or dickhead, depending on his state of mind. Right now he was Danny, but he was pushing it. Danny looked just as preppy as his name implied, with perfect blond hair, blue eyes, and a dimple on his chin. He was also so damned cheerful it hurt to be around him for too long. Unfortunately, he was very good at finding missing people.

“I think I’m gonna put this cigar out in your eye if you don’t shut your face and let me think.” Most people would have thought the threat was serious. Danny knew better. Boyd was happiest when he was threatening physical injury. Besides, Danny had him by a good sixty pounds.

“So why are we out here, exactly?” Danny moved closer and leaned over the side of the railing, staring down at the waves where they were lapping against the rocks. Danny did that every time, convinced that at least half of the people who disappeared in the area were actually so much jelly after falling into the waters of the bay. It would certainly explain the recent track record.

“Well, Danny, my boy. We have eight cases in this area that have something in common; can you guess what that is?”

“They all fell off the side here and became jelly?” The kid always sounded so hopeful when he said that.

“No, not quite.” He thought about it for a second and shrugged. “Well, maybe, but we don’t know it for sure.”

“Then tell me.”

“They all live in this area.”

Danny stopped kidding around when he heard that little tidbit. There was nothing remotely funny about the idea that eight people from the Cliff Walk had mysteriously vanished.

Sure as hell, it would be a bad thing if someone else made the same conclusions.

Maggie went to school just like she was supposed to, but she felt sick. Her stomach churned and her heartbeat seemed to triple throughout the day. The nausea started strong and faded after a while. By the time school was finished she was feeling better and gave it no more thought.

She saw Ben in class and smiled for him. He smiled back, but neither of them spoke. They almost never did in school. It was just when they ran across each other on the street that they were friends. Here they may as well have been complete strangers. Still, she hoped he’d show up at the diner again. It was fun having someone to talk to and not having to worry about him trying to get into her pants.

Maggie found herself wondering for a few moments if Ben was homosexual and then dismissed the notion. He still looked, and he was still shy around her. It seemed that somehow she had run across a man who was actually a gentleman, and chivalrous to boot. She made a mental note to keep a fair distance from him, unless he ran across her first. It would have been too easy to let him into her world and that would be disastrous.

She didn’t want or need a man in her life. She didn’t want or need a relationship. Emotions were not a part of her plan, and she fully intended to keep any affection in check until after she graduated.

Just a shame he was cute. It would have been easier to ignore him if he at least had a big mole on his forehead or something.

After school she cased the synagogue until she saw Rabbi Lefkowitcz. He was a good-looking man in his forties; while he was harder to seduce than she’d expected, he eventually fell for her charms. They went to his office and she kept him occupied until the sun was almost down. He managed to look grateful for the experience and miserable for cheating on his wife at the same time. He even called her by the woman’s name: Elizabeth. Her picture was on his desk: she looked nothing at all like Maggie. She didn’t correct him.

Afterward, she went to the movies. John Cusack had a new comedy playing and she absolutely loved him. He was funny and sweet and managed to look sexy as hell when he was confused or pouty; kind of like Ben, despite the fact that they looked nothing alike.

She left the movie understanding the rabbi’s mentality a little better.

The plan was to be home by ten; she was on schedule and thinking about calling for a pizza. She hadn’t counted on Tom being there and waiting on her again.

But there he was, in all of his hip-hop glory. He was trying to look like a college kid again and failing. His long, oversized shorts and muscle shirt just looked stupid when she considered how cold it was getting, and no one, she didn’t care who they were or how hot they might look, ever looked good in a baseball cap turned sideways. It worked when a kid was six, not when a man was almost thirty.

“Where have you been?” His voice was harsh and demanding of answers.

“The movies,” she explained as she shook her head. One look in his eyes and she could tell he’d been sampling his own drugs again. He was normally smart enough not to, but this seemed to be one of his stupid days.

“Yeah? So why were you at a synagogue for three hours? When did you become a kike?” That was the thing about Monkey Boy: she could always count on him to be an insensitive prick, but now and then he was a smart insensitive prick.

Fortunately, she was smarter and had already come up with a proper answer in case he saw her handling her tasks for Soulis. “Hello? Student, here. I’m studying comparative religions in my sociology class.”

He rocked back on his heels for a moment, nodding too fast; a sure sign he was hopped on speed. “Really? Why don’t we ask Ben about that? I bet Ben’s just the kind of guy who will tell me the truth about what you were doing all day.”

Without any warning, Tom stepped over and pounded his fist into Ben’s front door hard enough to rattle the window off to the side.

Maggie saw movement through the darkened window and a moment later a very tired-looking Ben was opening the door, his face set in a polite expression of curiosity.

“Hi, Ben!” Tom’s voice boomed between the two apartments.

Ben winced. “Hi, Tom.” He looked over her way and nodded his head once. “Hi, Maggie. What’s up?”

“You in the same classes as Maggie, Ben?”

“A couple of them, why?”

“Oh, we were just having a discussion and I was teasing her because I saw her go into a synagogue today. I asked her when she switched from Catholicism to Judaism, and she said she was studying for a religion class.”

Ben nodded his head, never taking his eyes off Pardue. “Comparative religions, a big part of our sociology class. In fact, I have to take about half of the churches around here and she has the other half. We’re sort of lab partners.” He never even blinked while he was spewing a line of shit right in Tom’s ugly face.

“Really? Why did she get the Jews?”

“Because I have to take the Muslims. It’s easier for me, because everyone knows the Muslim faith isn’t exactly girl-friendly.”

“Who’s doing the Catholics?”

“Me. We’re supposed to look at the faiths from an outsider’s perspective and I’m a Methodist.” Ben never once took his eyes off Tom as he spoke.

“Cool. Thanks, Ben.”

“No problem. Anything else, guys?”

Maggie flashed him a quick smile and shook her head. Tom spoke before she could. “Yeah, Ben. Is that why you two keep meeting at the Silver Dollar Diner?”

Ben looked at Pardue carefully and shook his head. “No. That’s just been because neither of us ever sleeps and they make good omelets there.”

“That’s cool.” Tom smiled and moved closer to Maggie, putting his apish arm around her shoulders and hugging her to his side. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t making moves on my girl, Ben.” He was smiling as he spoke, but it wasn’t a smile that had anything to say about humor.

Ben shrugged and kept staring at Pardue. “Always best to know when you’re out of your league, Tom.”

Monkey Boy laughed and Maggie expelled a soft breath of relief.

Ben nodded and went back into his apartment.

When he was gone, Tom looked back over at her and nodded too, satisfied with the explanation. “Just making sure we still understand each other, Maggie.”

“Never do that again.” She slipped away from his thuggish arm around her shoulder and added a few layers of permafrost to her voice.

“Do what?” He put on his best look of wide-eyed innocence. It wasn’t a pretty thing to see.

“Never check up on me again and never bother one of my friends again with this sort of shit, or we’re done doing business together.”

“You’re wrong about that, Maggie.” He was still smiling, and he was still sounding just as amiable as ever, but Maggie knew the danger signs well enough.

She just didn’t care much right then. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wrong.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned in close enough that she could see something green, like spinach, wedged between two of his teeth. “I own you. I was just testing the waters today, baby. I find out you’ve been doing business on the side or giving away pussy for free, and I’ll make sure you know it, too.”

Shit, he was getting all possessive again and she hated when he started that.

“Go get sober, Tom. Before you say something you’ll regret later.”

“Maybe you should come home and get me sober.”

“I have a paper to work on.”

“Shit’s only gonna hold water for a few more months, Maggie. Then maybe I’ll have to see about you moving in with me.”

“That’s not gonna happen and you know it.”

“We’ll see.”

Tom went on his way and Maggie watched him go, suddenly cold inside and goose-fleshed. Tom wanted her to move in? She hoped that was just the coke talking, because that wasn’t going to happen. She’d find a way to work her own deals before that would ever happen.

Thinking about the money she’d gotten from Jason helped. It wasn’t exactly retirement money, but it put her a lot closer to her goals than she’d expected to be.

Ben’s front door opened. He looked at her with a tentative smile.

“You okay, Maggie?”

“Yeah, Ben. Thanks. You saved my ass.”

“Anytime.” He stepped back into his apartment and waved. “Have a good night, Maggie.”

“You too, Ben.” She smiled for him and resisted the urge to ask him out to the diner. She could have used a friend just then. But as Monkey Boy had just reminded her, friends were a luxury she could hardly afford.

Brian sat in his patrol car and waited. He’d been waiting for a long while now, hoping to hear back from the bastard that had ruined his life.

He wanted to have a long, long talk with the motherfucker.

His accounts were still screwed up. He still had no money, no credit history, and a very serious problem if he wanted to keep his house and everything else in his life.

Angie was making his life a living hell. She’d called him seven times during the day, wanting to know why the bank was still calling, wanting to know who he’d really talked to on the phone, wanting to know a dozen different things that he couldn’t answer if he didn’t want a divorce. And he did not want to lose her. Just because he needed a little action on the side didn’t mean he wanted to lose his wife.

She was important to him.

So he was fucked, unless he could figure out what to do about the man who’d taken everything from him. He just had no idea where to start looking.

The little Mazda Miata ripped past him in the darkness, swerving erratically around the bend in the road. He caught a glimpse of long brown hair and turned on his flashers. This could be fun.

The car pulled off the road, narrowly missing a tree near the edge. A quick license plate check told him what he already knew: the owner was a college student and had a record. The night was looking better already.

He pulled over behind the sporty two-seater and moved to the driver’s side window. The girl inside was already terrified. She had long brown hair, dark brown eyes and a mouth made for pleasing men.

“Did I do something wrong, officer?”

“I need to see your license and registration, please.”

“What was I doing wrong?” She had the audacity to sound offended.

“You were weaving all over the road, for one.” He sighed and shook his head. “I need to see your license and registration, please. Now.”

She sighed and pulled out her purse, digging through layers of debris while he waited. “I’m not drunk, you know.” Her voice had taken on an edge that he found annoying. Now and then he ran across one that got bitchy and that took all the fun out of his evenings. Unfortunately, it was looking like he’d found one with attitude.

“That’s one of the things we’re here to find out, miss.”

Her ID said her name was Veronica Miller. She was nineteen, officially too young to have alcohol on her breath, but he smelled it. “Have you been drinking, Ms. Miller?”

“No. I haven’t been drinking. I don’t drink.” Now she was rolling her eyes, so obviously put out by his daring to question her. Brian clenched his jaw, ready to just lock her in cuffs and get it over with.

“Why don’t you step out of the car?”

“Look, I told you I haven’t been drinking, okay?” There. She was starting to break a bit, putting on the wide eyes as soon as she realized he was serious.

“Just step out of the car, please.”

She climbed out, but very reluctantly. Her big brown eyes were doing the fast blinks that normally meant the water works would be coming soon. She swayed a bit as she stood in front of him; just shy of five and a half feet in height, she was slender and pretty and drunk enough that he would be justified in taking her to the jail for a sobering night. Brian pulled out the Breathalyzer test kit and watched in satisfaction as she got closer to tears.

“Please don’t do this, mister.”

“Just doing my job, Ms. Miller.”

“I mean it. I can’t get another ticket.”

“You were driving while intoxicated. You’re too young to be drinking at all.”

“Are you going to give me a ticket?”

“What other choice do I have?” He let his eyes roam over her body for a moment, knowing he shouldn’t be looking so blatantly. It had to be her idea.

“My dad’s gonna freak out.”

“I can’t help with that. I can’t just let you go. You were weaving all over the road. You might have killed someone.”

“Come on, have a heart, I’m just at the limit.”

“I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.”

Three minutes later, just when he was thinking he might have to actually book her, she decided to try offering her body instead of getting locked up. Naturally he agreed and they moved into the woods. She was trembling and that made it all the sweeter when he started taking off her clothes, peeling away layers to reveal the beautiful body underneath. She was trembling and whimpering by the time he had her fully disrobed. He wanted her so badly he would have actually paid her for the pleasure, but knowing she was scared of him and what he could do to her made it all that much sweeter.

They kissed for several minutes while he explored her with his hands. She was hesitant to return the favor, but eventually started making life interesting again. Finally he moved into position, savoring the way she looked on all fours. Just as he was preparing to penetrate her, she ran. One second he was moving behind her tight, little ass and ready to get a home run—she shaved, which was a new one for him—and the next, she was up and running, leaving him humping air.

Brian cursed and gave chase, pulling up his pants as he started after the damned fool girl. Now he knew fear, too, because she could ruin him with a word. The accusation was all it took for a girl to cause him troubles, which was why he normally made sure they had at least a few drugs on them.

She was fast, moving with surprising speed and grace for a naked coed. He watched her as she ran, his eyes still taking in the sight of her body as she managed to avoid obstacles that should have had her down in the dirt. In the long run, he was faster. He had more on the line than she did and desperation fueled his pace; all she was risking was being sore in the morning. If he got busted by some little cunt telling people what he’d done, he’d lose what little remained in his life worth having.

The area was already dark, and she was drunk. That didn’t stop her from giving him one hell of a run and didn’t stop him from getting angrier and angrier as they ran through the woods. But as he knew would happen eventually, she slipped and fell, hitting the ground hard and whimpering as he came up on her.

He took her in the mulch and dirt, forcing himself on her and listening to her screams; they were sounds of beauty. Her sweet young face was a beautiful thing to see; dirtied and tear streaked, her eyes looking everywhere but at him until he grabbed her long hair and made her see his face. When he was done, he pulled himself from her and savored her tears.

She was still crying when he got dressed. She was still lying in the carpet of the woods when he pulled out his night stick and cracked her skull open. Just to make sure that he could hide the evidence properly, he used a rock to hide the marks left by his bludgeon.

Looking down at the ruins of a girl he’d stopped for driving badly, Brian Freemont felt at peace for the first time in several days.

A house is not always a home.

Angie Freemont was learning that and learning to live with it. Brian used to be a sweet man, attentive and loving. Something about working on the police force had changed him, and not for the better.

She was in the kitchen and cooking for him, preparing his early morning dinner. It was something she always insisted on doing, having his meals ready for him. She felt she had to, not because it was her wifely duty, but because he was the one providing for her and he was the one working his ass off.

She chopped the onions with the skill of a chef, which was appropriate enough. She’d worked as a line cook all the way through high school and had done it through her three years of college, too. In her mother’s words, she came from a long line of have-nots and in order to get what she wanted she had to work for a living.

Not working was driving her crazy, but the baby’s health had to be considered and even now her unborn child was considered at risk. The pregnancy had not been an easy one, and it wasn’t getting any less difficult. Something about the blood types for her and Brian put their child at risk. There were medicines to take, and endless warnings that she couldn’t get too active.

That hadn’t made Brian a very happy man. He was constantly horny. She was too, but now with the baby on the way, she normally felt too crappy to do anything about it. Besides, it was hard to get down and get funky all over her husband when there was a basketball stuck inside her stomach and her back felt like she’d been wearing a damned saddle all day.

She sautéed the onions in butter and tossed in the meat she’d been marinating. He liked cheese steaks. It was Friday night and he was stuck working the worst shift the department could throw at him. He told her he’d asked for a switch to dayshift half a dozen times, but so far he was still stuck with the shit detail.

The peppers went in next, and their aroma permeated the air. The spatula cut through the already sliced meat and blended in the vegetables as the steak cooked. Next came a little olive oil, and then the white American cheese. The crusty bread was done already, and merely waited for her husband’s return to the house. Finally she tossed in the finely sliced mushrooms and stirred again before deftly flipping the meat into the hard rolls.

He would be home soon, and dinner was done. She slipped on her jacket after everything was set up and then stepped outside to catch a breath of clean air and to cool off. The house was nice, but she always felt like she was going to melt if she spent too much time in the kitchen.

They came for her in the darkness; a little boy of maybe nine or ten and a young girl who was only a few years older.

She never even had a chance to scream before they attacked, inhumanly strong hands clutching at her arms and pinning her to the hard wood of the porch, pressing her belly into the wood as they tore at her coat.

Angie fought hard; straining her wrists to break free of the demons and grunting as the girl finally ripped the fabric of her jacket away and bared her skin.

She should have been able to take them, should have been able to at least slap the little boy away from her and fight the girl. She had never been a weak woman, physically, and she could still put a hurting on a man a hundred pounds bigger than she was, as Brian had learned the one time he decided to slap her.

But the kids were too strong and seemed to feel nothing when she managed to land a kick. The girl looked at her with dead eyes. Dead, as in glazed over and dry enough that it looked painful to stare into them.

Angie finally found enough breath to scream, wrenching her hands free of the monster’s grasp. She landed a beautiful punch in the girl’s face and felt the delicate, teenaged nose break under her knuckles.

The little boy only seemed intent on getting her clothes off of her, and his fingers found purchase enough to rip her blouse open in an explosion of buttons and thread.

The girl she’d hit kept moving in, her hands bruising Angie’s flesh, and Angie screamed again as she was pinned for the second time. Her breasts were tender, made sensitive by the changes brought on from her pregnancy. She screamed a third time when she felt the boy’s teeth break the skin around her nipple.

And then the teenaged girl with the blond hair and mashed nose hit her hard enough to knock her unconscious.

She felt herself moved, heard the girl tell the boy to stop being a pig and heard the boy make a rude comment that had both of them laughing. The world faded in and out for her, an endless blur of motion that ceased only when the ringing in her head got too extreme.

The wind around her became a roaring voice. No, not the wind: the sound of crashing waves.

Angie woke up just in time to feel the water closing in around her head. She tried to catch her breath but failed, and instead sucked in water. She thrashed, drowning and terrified, but it did no good. They held her under the water with their thin hands and incredible strength. She tried to escape again and again, but soon the burning in her lungs was too much and the blackness came back to swallow her again.

And finally she awoke, soaked and naked and shivering in a different sort of darkness. There was no light of any kind, but she could hear just fine, hear the sounds of the things that moved around her, and feel their hands as they touched her in the lightless, echoing void.

“Who’s there?” Her voice, weakened though it was, echoed around her.

A voice giggled off to the right. “Mommy? Is that you, Mommy?”

“Shhhh. Be nice. She is with child.”

“Mmmmm. Babies.”

“Leave me alone!” her voice boomed in the darkness and ricocheted off distant walls.

“No, Mommy. I’m hungry now. Feed me.”

The teeth clamped down on her breast again and then there were more mouths, all of them biting at her skin, all of them penetrating flesh and meat and sometimes even bone.

Angie Freemont screamed for what seemed an eternity, pushing and fighting and trying desperately to escape from the agonies they delivered onto her. She tried to stand and they knocked her back down. She tried to claw at their flesh and they ignored her best attacks. Finally she stopped struggling, feeling every last bite.

She took a long time to die.