Blood Red

Chapter 3

No town ever truly sleeps. No matter what size, no matter where it’s located, no town ever truly knows rest. There are always a few souls who can’t manage a good eight hours, or whose jobs force them to stay up through the most insane schedules. Throw a college campus or two into the equation and, just like that, you can guarantee that the town will probably have insomnia.

Father Michael Harris suffered from insomnia most nights. He had since he was a young man, and he doubted that would ever change, at least not without the occasional dose of medicinal brandy.

There was too much going on in his world. He needed a vacation and knew good and well that he wasn’t likely to get one. Of course, he was supposed to actually request one from time to time, but he just never trusted that everything would get done if he wasn’t there to double-check all the details.

Take the day he’d just spent as a perfect example. Father Donald Wilson was his superior, but despite a good heart, the man just wasn’t capable of accomplishing anything in a timely fashion. The only exception was his sermons. Don was one of the best when it came to writing a rousing speech, and he could bring tears to the eyes of an unrelenting sinner. But once you got past that stage of the day, he was effectively useless. So who do you suppose had handled the details for the upcoming pumpkin sales? Who else? He had.

Normally he could have counted on at least a little help from Patrick Flannery, but the lad had been distracted throughout the day, as shaken and twitchy as a cat at a dog show. Mike Harris had tried several times to get the younger priest to open up to him, but it wasn’t meant to be.

So he prescribed himself a small snifter of brandy and settled in to read a few pages of the latest by Ed McBain. It might not have been a brand-new book, but it was new to him.

It was after midnight before he finally managed to get to sleep.

He didn’t know just how much later it was when he discovered he wasn’t alone. The warm mouth covering his penis was the first hint.

Mike sat up fast, gasping, his hands reaching for the source of what was happening to him, and gasped again when the young woman at the edge of his bed looked in his direction and smiled around the prize she’d captured between her lips.

There was a second when he was almost certain that she would bite down and he froze, petrified by the very notion. Then she slowly drew her head back and freed him.

“What are you doing?” His voice was a harsh whisper, not because he was scared of being heard, but because he was having the damnedest time catching his breath.

The moon’s light was shining into the Spartan room, and he watched as she slowly stood up, looking down on him in his vulnerable position.

Her face was familiar, but the dark curls of her hair obscured her features almost as much as the darkness that left her partially hidden from his view. And he was also having trouble looking away from the naked body that the moon was revealing to him.

He was not at all accustomed to seeing beautiful young women in his bedroom. The entire concept was unsettling to him. When he had been younger, he’d been tempted on several occasions, but he’d never given in to the idea of breaking his vows. Oh, there had been many a cold shower, and Mike Harris had certainly entertained all the thoughts that a heterosexual male is bound to have when he sees an attractive member of the opposite sex, but he’d used prayer and faith to keep him from deviating from the course he’d chosen to take.

He swallowed and felt his skin flush. “I said, what are you doing?” His voice was a little stronger when he spoke again, but not nearly as confident as he wanted it to be.

She moved forward, and much as he wanted to flinch away from her, Mike simply stared. His throat was dry and his pulse was thudding along merrily at his temples.

Margaret Preston leaned in closer, and he was shocked to recognize the girl he’d seen in church every Sunday for the last fifteen years.

“Maggie? What are you doing here?” His voice shook and part of the tremble was caused by fear, but there was definitely a healthy dose of lust in there as well.

Maggie lifted one delicate hand and placed a finger against her lips. “Shhhh. I think I made that obvious, Father Harris.” The voice of the young woman in front of him didn’t jibe with the voice he knew from years of Sunday School and the confessional. It wasn’t a child’s tones that she spoke with, though he had always thought of her as a child.

“Maggie, please, just get your clothes on and go home. If you’d like, we can discuss this in the morning.”

She climbed up onto the bed, her face once again lost in the shadows of the room, her body highlighted by the moonlight that painted her in shades of blue and silver.

“No, Father Harris, we won’t talk about this in the morning. We won’t talk about it ever. It’s our little secret.” Her left leg lifted and moved over his body, settling on the other side of his hips. A woman less than half his age was kneeling over him in the bed he had never shared with another soul, and he was both terrified and elated by the idea.

Her weight settled over his body, hardly a burden at all as she leaned in closer to his face, her dark eyes staring into his own.

“Maggie, please…” Was he begging? Oh, yes he was. He was definitely begging, because as much as he wanted to cast her away from the bed and scold her for her foolish notions, his body was reacting to her presence and his willpower seemed to have fled into the shadows.

Her hands lifted up to her shoulders, getting lost in her thick dark hair for a moment before they slowly ran down her torso, hiding and then revealing different parts of her perfection before she reached out and touched him. The contact was electrifying and paralyzing.

He wanted her to go away, wanted desperately for her to leave him alone again in the darkness of his one private place in the entire world.

He wanted her to stay, to fulfill the promises he saw in her smile, and the silken touch of her fingers, and the warm kiss she placed on his neck as she leaned over him.

In the end, only one of his wishes was fulfilled. But she was truthful, at least. It was their secret. No one ever had to know.

Ben didn’t go to sleep at all that night. He had other things he wanted to do. No, other things he needed to do.

He sat in front of his window and read the words on his laptop’s monitor, studying details that he shouldn’t have had access to, and making notes in a spiral-bound notebook.

From time to time he yawned, stretched, and took a break to get another cup of coffee, but after each of his short breaks he went back to his computer and searched for more information on his target.

Brian Freemont had three bank accounts, two mortgages, a car that he could barely afford, and a wife, Angela, who was pregnant. Amazing the things you could learn about someone if you knew how to crack a few security codes.

He jotted down the account numbers as he learned them, and made sure to note which bank each of them belonged to. He did the same with all of the credit card numbers, and the mortgages, and he made sure to get the Social Security number for his new obsession. There were phone numbers to consider, both the home phone and the cell. He made a point of copying down all of the numbers that had been called and that had called the Freemont residence.

Every time he started getting tired, he thought of Danni Hopkins crying into his shirt and woke right back up. It was easy to do. Danni was a good person, even if she liked to party a little, and he hated the idea that Brian Freemont might change the rules and decide that Danni needed to pay a second time for his silence. Or a third, or a fourth.

Maybe it was the coffee, but the notion of Brian Freemont walking around with anything that could be used to coerce Danni a second time made his jaws clench together.

By three in the morning, he was ready to begin. Ben took one of the seven pay-as-you-go cell phones that he had purchased earlier in the day and activated as he ate dinner, and he plugged his modem into the jack provided. He worked with the speed and precision of a surgeon and began cutting away pieces of Brian Freemont’s life.

He was done less than an hour later. He carefully wiped down the cell phone and wrapped it in a paper bag before slipping it into his jacket pocket. Then he stepped out of the apartment, looking for a random trashcan and a decent meal.

The good news for him was that there were several diners open, even in the darkest part of the night. He found one without too much difficulty and sat down in one of the booths that were supposed to be reserved for two or more people.

The waitress, Sally, didn’t seem to care that he was breaking the rules, and neither did he. She promised him that the sausage and mushroom omelet was a work of art and he trusted her.

He hadn’t even finished a third of the very early breakfast when Margaret Preston came into the place.

Sally looked at the girl and smiled. “Hey, hon, how’re you tonight?”

“Hi, Sally.” Margaret’s smile was a thing of beauty, and Ben forgot all about the food in his mouth as she walked toward the booth across from his.

“You want your usual?” The woman didn’t wait for an answer, but instead moved to grab a cup of coffee and brought it over to her. “I was just telling Ben over here that the mushroom and sausage was the best omelet in the house.”

He managed to swallow the lump in his mouth as Margaret looked in his direction. Amazing, he couldn’t breathe, but he still got the food down without dying on the spot.

“So how is it?” Margaret Preston was speaking to him. He had absolutely no idea how to respond without sounding like a complete idiot.

Words! Come on, words! You can speak, I know you can! “Umm… I think Sally’s right, actually.”

Margaret nodded and gratefully took the cup of coffee Sally offered her. “She normally is.” Margaret looked away and he felt his ability to think come back as her eyes left his. “I’ll have what he’s having.”

Sally chuckled. “So, the usual then.” The waitress walked toward the counter that separated them from the kitchen and called out for an encore of the last order. Someone behind the wall made a comment that had her laughing as she moved to another table that she had claimed as her own.

Ben looked back in Margaret’s direction and saw that she was looking at him again. He wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but felt that might be socially awkward.

“You’re in my Lit class, aren’t you?”

She was talking to him again. It was really not a comfortable thing for him to deal with. Like as not, she’d expect him to answer.

“Um. Yes. Same class.” Nope, not his best witty response.

“Did you get the notes from last Friday? I can’t remember what we were supposed to read.”

Shit. Now she was asking questions that required thought processes that were functioning. “Lord Byron. There’re four examples of his work in there. We’re supposed to take notes on the symbolism.”

“I love his stuff. God, the man knew how to write.” Her voice was wistful and her eyes had a faraway look that seemed one part wishful thinking and one part exhaustion.

Ben nodded hard, remembering her expression when she found the poem he’d written down for her. He knew she loved Byron’s work. He also knew that “She Walks in Beauty” must have been written about a girl who looked exactly like the one he was trying hard not to stare at.

“So what are you doing out this late at night, Ben? I thought I was the only one crazy enough to live without sleep.”

He grinned, thinking about what the faceless cop he’d decided to target would be doing in a few hours. “Hunting.”

“What are you hunting?” He loved to watch her face. She had a thousand expressions that he had never seen, because she wore so few of them at school. She was intrigued by his one word answer, and maybe amused, too. It was hard to tell, because, of course, he didn’t really know her. He just loved her. The two did not always go hand in hand in the world of Ben Kirby.

Okay, he was a little more socially awake now, and maybe even a little less intimidated by her presence, so he thought before he answered. “I am hunting revenge and a way to make a friend of mine smile again. She has a nice smile. I like to see it.”

Margaret Preston rose from her booth across from his and slid into the seat on the opposite side of his table. He managed not to dance where he was sitting, or even to let out a scream of pure delighted terror, but only because having her sitting this close was enough to stun him for a moment.

“See? You get bonus points for a neat answer.” How did she do that? How did she make him feel so comfortable when he knew good and damned well that being anywhere near her could only devastate him later? He wasn’t stupid; he knew it was dangerous to get close to anyone.

“What? You want all the juicy details?” There, his mouth was still working, even if his brain was rebelling.

“Only if you want to share them.” She stretched and then smiled as Sally brought her food over to her. He tried not to stare and failed.

The waitress shot a look at each of them and smiled, then headed back to her island of sanity in the corner. It wouldn’t be all that long before the breakfast rush started pouring in, and he suspected she wanted to rest up for it as much as possible.

“Well, that depends.” Ben leaned back in his seat and decided he’d trust her. How else could he keep the conversation going? “Can you keep a secret, Margaret?”

“Yes I can. And you can call me Maggie.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m about to make a phone call, and when I’m done with that, I’ll tell you what the call was all about.”

She sliced a neat little wedge of omelet away from the mass spilling over the edges of her plate and nodded, a smile playing at her lips and mischief in her eyes.

Ben very carefully pulled the cell phone from his pocket and pulled it from its bag. He dialed the first number from his list of several and waited until he heard an irritated, sleep-muted voice answer.

And Maggie watched him, her face alight with naughty amusement.

The Lister house was silent. Kelli woke up only because she thought she heard a sound from Teddy’s room. She wasn’t technically working right now; his folks had eventually managed to come home, and when they were in the house, she was not in charge of Teddy’s welfare. That didn’t stop her from listening for any sounds he might make anyway.

A few seconds later, she heard another sound from the direction of his room and moved out of bed, shivering a little when the covers slid away from her body. The hardwood floors felt like someone had left them in the freezer overnight and she stepped as lightly as she could to avoid the chill.

Teddy’s room was across the hallway and to the right. She slipped over to his door and carefully opened it, mindful of any noises she might make.

He was asleep in his bed, but his rest was not an easy one. Teddy’s face was drawn down in a fearful expression and his skin was covered with light sweat. Kelli moved into the room and touched his forehead, feeling for any sign of a fever.

Teddy’s eyes opened, stared dazedly at her for a second and then closed again. He didn’t wake up. The good news was that, while he might be having a bad dream, he didn’t have a temperature.

She saw motion outside of the bedroom window and tried to catch it again. All she saw were shadows on shadows, fleeing from the streetlights. It would be impossible to see much of anything out there.

“Noooo… unnh… sabadeeng.” Teddy’s voice sent shivers running from her neck to her lower back and she looked back at him, the motions from outside the window completely forgotten.

“Teddy? Wake up, hon.” She shook his shoulder lightly and Teddy woke in an instant, his eyes wide in the darkness, his voice a faint gasp as he sat up.

He reached out for her, for comfort, and she pulled him into a hug. At ten he was still a sweet kid. He hugged her back for a few seconds, breathing hard.

“You’re okay, Teddy. It was just a dream.” He clutched at her and held on with desperation and she let him for a few moments before breaking his grip and urging him back into the bed.

“It wasn’t a dream, Kelli.” His voice was still shaken, but, happily, it was also drowsy.

“I was here, hon. I saw you having a nightmare.”

He closed his eyes, already halfway back to slumber. “Will you stay with me? Please?”

She stifled a sigh. Her bed was calling and she wanted to answer it, but Teddy was scared and she knew she’d cave in. Her own fault, really, for letting him watch those stupid horror movies. Well, and for suggesting them in the first place.

“I’ll stay.” She rubbed his arm lightly and was rewarded by a half smile that faded into sleep. “You sleep, Teddy. I’ll be right here.”

She kept her word, but it had cost her a stiff neck a few hours later when she woke up on the floor at the foot of his bed.

Teddy managed the first three hours of school before he had to come home. He was exhausted, and looked about as pale as a bar of Ivory soap. Kelli had just gotten to her class when the school nurse called on her cell phone to let her know that he was ill. Both of the Listers had work, and someone had to take care of their child. That was what they paid Kelli for.

“This better be good.” Brian’s voice was scratchy from the lack of any moisture and his teeth were already clenched. Some asshole was calling his house and it wasn’t even five in the morning. Either someone he knew was in the hospital already, or they would be before he was done with them.

“It’s very good, Officer Freemont.” Oh, perfect! The prick was whispering into the phone, trying to disguise his voice.

Brian stood up and moved away from the bed, where Angie was mumbling sleepily. Ever since the baby started to show, she was tired all the time. He looked back at her; she was starting to look like a bloated cow. He didn’t need to hear her bitching because someone woke her from her much-needed beauty sleep.

“Talk to me and give me a reason not to find you.”

“Good luck with that. I’m not planning on having you find me. You have something I want. Watch what the day brings you. You’re not going to have fun. But I can make it better if you work with me. I’ll call you later today and we can discuss how fast you want to give it to me.”

“Listen, you little shit.” He didn’t get any further before the prick hung up on him. He tried calling the number back with the option he was paying extra money for, and of course it didn’t work.

“Fucker.” He resisted the urge to throw the phone down.

One look at his watch and he knew he wasn’t going to get any more sleep. Hell, he had to be up in an hour anyway.

Brian Freemont put the phone back in its cradle, scowling the entire time. He was not a happy man.

He was about to be a lot less happy.

The sun was coming soon. It wouldn’t be long before the light of the new day covered the town and the people of Black Stone Bay rose from their sleepy little beds to start a new day among the conscious.

Out on the bay itself, the waters were almost calm. The waves that ran to the jagged shoreline merely tapped the stones instead of shattering against them.

Jason Soulis looked out at the waters and listened to the sighs of the wind and the water.

He was going to like this town. He did already. It was perfect for him.

The waters below him stretched as far as he could see, and the sky at their horizon was changing quickly, growing brighter. He smiled to himself and turned back to the great black mansion behind him. Albert Miles had promised he would like the place, and his old friend had been absolutely right. He had also promised that Maggie would be everything Jason was looking for, and so far she was showing a great deal of promise. Two of them in one day; he let himself chuckle at the thought. The lady in question certainly had initiative.

Yes, he supposed he would keep her.

Assuming she would be willing to be kept, which he doubted.

Jason Soulis walked to his new home, casting his eyes briefly through the window of the boy he had visited during the night. He could sense the woman that slept next to him, fitfully turning in her sleep: he suspected she was a lovely young lady, friendly and shy, and innocent. He would watch her over the next few weeks. She would probably surprise him if he let her.

The wind was still a soft murmur at his back, playing idly with his hair as he closed his eyes for a moment and listened. To the west, not too far distant, he heard a scream that brought a thin smile to his lips.

Someone had found his first victim. He’d been wondering how long it would take.