Killing Kirshner (A Psychological Suspense Thriller) (5 page)

“So, what did you find out about our bully?”

“He’s apparently a genius; he graduated college at 19 and finished Stanford Law School on the accelerated program. He worked for some of the biggest criminal firms in the U.S., and then opened his own firm in 1977 in Charleston – your hometown – and was one of the top criminal lawyers in the country when he suddenly moved to Miami to teach at our school.”

“Lucky us,” Amanda joked.

“This bastard has gotten off some of the most horrid scum to ever walk on this earth –child molesters, murderers, rapists, you name it. This guy has no morals whatsoever.” Will pulled the sheets down off his head. “He’s evil, that’s for sure. You know, I had a dream that I killed him the other night; we were in the middle of class and he was picking on me as usual. Well, I just stood up, leaped over the desk and plunged a knife into his gut.”

“What happened then?” Amanda asked.

“I woke up. I’ve never had a dream like that before in my life. Never.” Will sat up in his bed.

“You got to get a grip, boy. Why don’t you come to church with me this Sunday? I always feel great after I leave – refreshed and ready to face another week of law school.”

“Thanks, but church isn’t for me. I haven’t been since high school,” Will quickly dismissed her suggestion.

“Okay, I get it. Let’s go out tonight and have some fun; I think we could all use some.”

“Sounds good to me,” Will said, looking back at the clock. “Oh shit, I almost forgot. I have a dentist appointment in an hour.”

Will went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. As Amanda got up, she noticed a pill bottle next to Will’s bed –
Xanax
, the label on the side read. She picked up a newspaper that was lying on the floor; an article about the Miami Mangler was the lead story. “Hey, Will, maybe we’ll get lucky and the Mangler will take care of Kirshner for us.”

Will laughed as he washed his face and looked into the mirror. He felt bad lying to Amanda about his dreams, but he was not about to tell her he had dreams about killing Professor Kirshner
every
night and he did not have a dentist appointment – he had his weekly psychiatrist appointment.

C
hapter 18

Will arrived a few minutes late to his appointment with Dr. Angela Aberle. He had been seeing her for the past two years for his anxiety disorder, and had made great strides in his therapy with her. Unfortunately, his two run-ins with Professor Kirshner had set him back. He was worse than ever, and increasing his anxiety medication on his own – something Dr. Aberle certainly would not approve of.

Dr. Aberle sat in a burgundy leather chair near the window, with a tan folder lying on her lap, while Will sat on a soft couch right next to her, swaying his legs back and forth.

“Will, I can see from your appearance that school is not going well,” Dr. Aberle said.

“School is fine, except for my Criminal Law class.”

“That’s the one Kirshner is teaching. The one you’ve been having those dreams about,” she noted as she closed the tan folder. “How bad was it?”

“Worse than I’ve ever dreamt or imagined. Today was only the second class with him, and I had to run out of the room to vomit. I passed out in the bathroom in a pool of my own vomit.” Will was not embarrassed in front of her.

“That’s just awful. So, I guess the Xanax isn’t helping you as much as it was.”

“I don’t think any drug can help me; I’m a nervous wreck. This guy preys on weak students. He can smell my fear a mile away and the dreams …”

“What about the dreams? Have they changed now that you finally have met him?” Dr. Aberle asked.

“My dreams have become violent. Every night I have a different dream, but it is always the same theme – me killing Kirshner.”

“Let’s increase your Xanax and maybe get you on something else. I think we can start there. Now, about these dreams, are they spilling over into your real life? Are you having thoughts of harming him?”

“As much as I have quickly grown to hate this man, I’m not at the point where I want to kill him. I just wish he would disappear … forever.”

“Will, I don’t want this getting away from you. Remember, we talked about all this before you started school. Every law school prep book talks about how some professors try and weed out the bad students. You’re too smart for that.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but it’s hard. I’ve done everything we’ve talked about. I have a great group of friends, and we even started a study group. He’s been messing with them too, but apparently I’m his favorite. I’m also starting to stutter again – something I haven’t done since I was a kid.”

“I want you to start using the behavior modification techniques I taught you that should help relieve the stress a little, and with the increase in meds, maybe make it a little more manageable for you. As for those dreams, keep a close eye on them. I don’t want you becoming obsessed with them like you have with your other recurrent dreams.”

Will looked out the window at a large oak tree, and imagined Kirshner hanging from it.

C
hapter 19

Jack’s Escalade flew down I-95, with Will sitting in front looking for a good song on the radio. Abrams talked to his wife on the phone, telling her he would be home late. Amanda and Sean listened to Abrams’ conversation, discovering for the first time that Abrams had a wife.

“How come you never told us you had an old lady?” Sean asked.

“Yeah, I assumed you were single,” Amanda said.

“This is the second Mrs. Freeman, and I’m always looking for a third,” Abrams said laughing.

“You’re so bad, Abrams. Did y’all know that Abrams had a wife at home?” Amanda asked Jack and Will.

“Not a clue. Don’t you have any CDs in this beast of a car?” Will asked Jack.

“Yeah, you got any Carrie Underwood?” Amanda yelled.

“Hell, no, this ain’t Charleston, honey,” Jack yelled back.

“How’s about a little Stones?” Jack pulled out a Rolling Stones CD from under his seat.

“‘Let It Bleed’ – it doesn’t get any better than Mick and Keith doing their
thang
,” Jack shouted.

The song began to play, and Will immediately recognized it since he was a Rolling Stones fan too, but the rest of the group had never heard the song.

Jack and Will began to sing along: “We all need someone we can lean on. And if you want it, you can lean on me.”

By the second verse, the whole car was singing and laughing. “I got to copy this CD, man,” Sean yelled. The music blasted out of the car windows as the Escalade pulled off I-95 to Baja Beach club.

The Baja Beach club was always packed with college students with three big universities close by. Sean and Amanda danced, as Jack, Abrams and Will did Jell-O shots. They cheered and laughed as they slammed the shots down.

Amanda pulled the whole group onto the dance floor, and they all danced in a circle together. Abrams immediately started dancing with a beautiful young freshman; she rubbed herself up and down his whole body as he stood there. Will and Sean stared as the girl began to kiss Abrams.

“Now, this is my kind of club,” Sean shouted over the music.

“Yeah, I can get used to this,” Will yelled back.

Time slipped away from them, and they danced until nearly 2 a.m. when Amanda realized how late it was.

They all decided it was time to leave because Legal Writing began at 8:30 a.m.

Sean drove the Escalade for the second time that day because Jack was too drunk to drive. Amanda sat in the front looking for a good country station, but she could only find Hispanic music. Will, Abrams and Jack sat in the back quietly; they were all exhausted from a long day and a lot of alcohol.

Amanda turned off the radio. “Thanks, y’all, I really had a great time with you guys.”

“See, Will, I told you all you needed was a fun night out,” Amanda said.

“Yeah, thanks. I feel a whole lot better now than I did lying in my own vomit earlier today.” They all laughed.

“I tell you what, man, I practically punched that asshole right in the face. I would love to pound that big head of his,” Sean yelled, holding up his fists.

“I know. I’d like to take a bat to his head myself,” Abrams joined in.

“Tell them your dream, Will,” Amanda said.

Will was surprised that Amanda had brought up his dream. “Well, I dreamt that I stabbed him right in class. I just leaped over my desk and stuck him with a big knife.”

“I would love to see that. The whole class would probably cheer,” Jack said.

Even though they all laughed at Will’s dream, each one of them secretly wished that Will would actually do it.

C
hapter 20

Abrams yawned as Professor Dunlap-Elliott read from the textbook. Jack was amazed that they were paying all this tuition so someone could read to them. “Feel like I’m back in kindergarten,” he mumbled under his breath.

Abrams heard Jack and chuckled. The professor looked up, “Something funny, Mr. Freeman?”

“No, I was just coughing,” Abrams responded.

“No, it was a laugh. So, tell everyone what is so funny. We are all waiting to hear what’s so amusing to you. We could all use a good laugh.”

“Okay,” Abrams paused. “I was just sitting here thinking I felt like a kindergartener again with you reading to the class,” Abrams said.

The class was silent; no one could believe Abrams had the guts to talk to a professor like that – even if she was not yet tenured.

“Get out,” she shouted.

“My pleasure, I already know how to read,” he said, gathering his books.

“Get out right now,” she screamed.

Abrams left the classroom laughing to himself.

Sean, Jack, Amanda and Will were stunned; it appeared that Will was not the only one losing it.

C
hapter 21

Nobody said anything to Abrams in Property class, which went by rather quickly. Professor Ferguson dismissed class a few minutes early because she had a doctor’s appointment. The study group decided they would meet in Amanda’s room at six and order some pizza and wings.

Before they could get out of the lecture hall, Todd ran over to them to see what time they were getting together later. “Listen, man, we decided that you’re not a good match for our group,” Sean told him.

“What do you mean by not a good match? You think you’re better than me. I’m smarter than all five of you put together. You think I need any of you? I was doing you a favor,” Todd began to yell.

“Fine, then fuck off. We don’t want your ugly ass in our group. So go find somebody that’s worthy to study with,” Abrams shouted back.

“Who the fuck are you calling ugly? You piece of …”

Will stepped in between Abrams and Todd and separated them. “Just walk away, man, it’s not worth it,” Will said to Abrams. Abrams backed down and walked out of the room. Amanda chased after him.

“Assholes,” Todd screamed as he walked away. By this time, the students still in the lecture hall were watching them. Jack sighed as he flung his backpack over his shoulder. “This shit is getting too intense, Will. First you yesterday, then Abrams today – everyone needs to calm the hell down.”

“I know. I’m okay now. My head’s on straight. I promise.” Will tried to convince Jack.

“I hope so, because I’m getting tired of our little dysfunctional study group. I’m about to bail, dude.”

Later that night, they all met in Amanda’s room. She already had ordered the pizza and the hot wings and was mixing together some sweet tea. “Sweet tea? Is that like iced tea?” Will asked.

“Man, you sure are a
Yankee
,” Sean joked.

“
Yankee?
I was born and raised right here in sunny Florida. You can’t get much more south than this,” Will responded.

“Come on, man, you know this Miami shit ain’t the South. I’m talking the Bible belt – the real south. Not a bunch of New Yorkers who got sick of shoveling snow. Tell him, Amanda.”

“He’s right, Will, you can’t get out of the south without trying some delicious sweet tea. I remember my mom used to make it every Sunday after church, and my sisters and I would be playing outside in the hot sun and come running in for it. It was the best,” she said.

“Yeah, my grams used to make the best sweet tea. It was like heaven in a glass.” Sean held up his glass as Amanda poured in her sweet tea.

“Not bad, my southern sister.” Sean took a deep gulp.

“Thanks. It’s my ma’s recipe.”

The pizza and wings came shortly after, and the sweet tea came in handy because Amanda surprised the guys with atomic wings – the spiciest wings at Frankie’s Pizza. They had a contest to see who could last the longest without taking a drink – Amanda won every time. “Amanda likes her wings spicy,” she yelled.

They decided it was time to start studying for Criminal Law. They passed around each other’s outlines and briefs. “We got that mother this time. We got it down,” Sean yelled.

“Yeah, I feel good about this material,” Will said.

“You better, we all know he’ll be calling on you first,” Jack mumbled.

“If he messes with you again, I’m going to have to pound his face in,” Sean said.

“How would you really do it, Will?” Amanda asked.

“Do what?” Will responded.

“Kill him. Let’s say there was no way you could get caught and nobody would ever know,” Amanda said.

They all stared at Will waiting to see what he would say.

C
hapter 22

Will crouched behind a series of bushes near the faculty parking lot. It was well past seven o’clock and nearly dark. Will had a red rag in his right hand with a small bottle in his left. Professor Kirshner walked out of the building and toward his Audi; Will moved slowly along the bushes dousing the red rag with chloroform.

Kirshner carried a large briefcase in his hands and laid it at the back of the car on the ground. He opened the car door and threw in a file onto the passenger seat; he walked around to the back of the car and opened his trunk. Will snuck up behind him and shoved the rag over Kirshner’s nose and mouth. Kirshner struggled for only a few seconds then passed out. Will pushed him up against the car and threw Kirshner’s body into the trunk. He got in the front of the car and drove it back to where his Criminal Law class was held.