Murder Stalks (15 page)

His high-pitched laughter brought her out of
her shock. She wanted to reach up and scratch his eyes out.

“
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
Don’t kill me, please. I won’t tell anyone what happened. I swear
it. Just do it and leave. I promise I won’t tell.”

Silence answered her. He shoved the vibrator
in her mouth. The pain choked her, leaving her unable to breath. A
gloved hand held her hair tight, causing her brain to swim.
Finally, the sticky vibrator was pulled out of her mouth. Arisa
gasped in air, swallowing in big gulps like she had forgotten how
to breathe.

In the dim light, she could make out some
details. The intruder was white and had strong arms. The eyes were
ice blue, cold and hard with an anger that glazed them over, making
them seem overly bright. Arisa blinked and shook her head, focusing
on the features. Had the jerk who assaulted her at the club
followed her home? No, this person was stronger, more muscle than
fat, and they moved with a grace that was almost feminine.

“
Please, I’ll do anything
you ask, just don’t hurt me.”

The retaliation was enough to make Arisa
keep all further pleas for her freedom silent. In a last ditch
effort, she cried out to God, praying her death would be quick.

Her prayers were answered ten minutes later.
The intruder carefully unrolled cling wrap and placed it over her
face. She tried to blow it off, but every breath in sucked it tight
over her nose and mouth. She fought the ties holding her to the
bedpost. She tried again to blow the plastic wrap off. It moved
away from her face for a moment, and she drank in a deep breath.
The intruder cursed and placed his hands beside her head, holding
the plastic tight.

Minutes ticked by. This was the end. She
closed her eyes, trying to hide from the vacant blue stare above
her. At the last moment, she flashed open her eyes. The room
blurred and her vision narrowed. She tried to gasp for air. Finding
none, her body shuddered and she was gone.

****

The kill brought him to an excited state.
His heart raced in his chest as he sucked in huge puffs of air.

He loved the kill. The torture was fun,
vacuuming their body as they squirmed made him more excited than
sex ever did. They had no clue why he cleaned them. They would
plead and beg, asking for him to leave. As long as they kept
begging for him to stop, he kept going. Unless they asked him to
fuck them and leave, that made it too easy. He wanted it to be hard
to get inside of them. He wanted to force his way in, not be given
permission. But the most excitement came from the kill. Watching
the life leave their body was entertainment at its best.

The killer poured bleach into a glass bowl
and diluted it with water. He used one of her washrags and cleaned
her body, being careful to rinse away any fluid he might have left
on her.

He hadn’t used a condom. He hadn’t needed
one. Which was good. She was too available. He liked the sexual
thrill of a virgin, or near virgin, not some dancer who took
freelance jobs as a hooker.

He knew all about Arisa’s freelance jobs. He
had even thought of purchasing some of her time last week, but he
knew she would find it too weird when he showed up tonight at the
club.

He had done that before, not purchasing a
hooker, but one time he had dated one of his victims. It had an
interesting side effect. The betrayal in her eyes was precious. But
too many men had tasted Arisa’s wares. He liked to keep it
fresh.

His mind drifted to his next prospect. Now,
she was delicious. Her young supple body was pure and untouched. He
had overheard her talking to a friend at the coffee shop. Latisha
Enzer was still a virgin. A sweet, delectable virgin unmarred by a
man's touch. He would show her how to please, how to make someone
cry out in pleasure. Then he would take her and make her regret it
all.

Just thinking about his next prospect made
him ready. It would have to be soon. He couldn’t wait to taste her
soft flesh and fill her with his power.

The joy of taking Arisa had already worn
off. Damn it, he needed another one now, but not just anyone would
do. It had to be Latisha with her ebony skin and onyx eyes. She was
his new love, and soon she would feel it flow over her and into
her.

Chapter 12

Tony raised the window a few inches, letting
the cool night air blow through the room. He had just preached to
Marissa about locking up tight, but his second floor bedroom was
safe. With one last swig from his bottle of water, he fell back
onto his bed. His vision swam as exhaustion overtook him. Closing
his eyes, he drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

The chirping of a bird called to him and
found him in a far off place. Not wanting to follow, he groaned.
The noise brought him out of his dream and into a strange
consciousness. Marissa had decided to come home with him. They had
made love all night long. Tony loved that dream, but this time it
felt real. He wanted it to be real, wanted to have spent hours
exploring her body, drawing out her passion, and leaving one
another spent and exhausted.

With a shaky hand, Tony reached up and
touched his head, wondering if he really was awake. His
sleep-clouded brain turned his fantasy dream into reality. Marissa
was here. A pulse of excitement traveled through his body, bringing
him closer to true consciousness.

His head pounded with pain. Had he gone to
bed drunk? Tony tried to remember, but his brain was too clouded to
form a coherent timeline. Last night was a blank in his memory.

Out of habit, Tony reached across the bed,
searching for Marissa. Something was there. No, not something,
someone. His eyes flashed open and pain shot to the back of his
skull. He closed his eyes tight, blocking out the light. Damn, he
didn’t think he’d drank that much.

Slowly, he opened his eyes again. The early
morning sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, shadowing
then highlighting the figure lying next to him. His stomach turned
and knotted as a wave of fear-induced nausea washed over him
followed by elation.

The woman in bed with him, could it be
Marissa? It had to be her. He wouldn’t sleep with anyone else. A
fog clouded his thoughts, leaving holes in his memory. The body was
dark and unmoving. Then the smell hit him. His brain cleared enough
for him to recognize that scent. Blood. He reached out a shaky hand
and recoiled when he touched a sticky substance. The dark shape
beside him was covered in blood.

Tony fought the sticky covers, clawing at
the cotton sheets that clung to his body. The air seemed to
evaporate from the room, leaving him gasping for breath.

Shuffling out of bed, he fell to his knees
before his feet found the floor. Propelled backwards by fear, he
moved until he struck an immovable barrier. He caressed the cool
wall. Comfort came in small doses from the smooth texture. He
closed his eyes, thankful he had found something solid and unmoving
to lean on. He sucked in oxygen, finally finding a breath of
refreshing air. It didn’t last long as the putrid stench of blood
and death followed him.

Opening his eyes, he leaned forward but left
one hand still touching the wall. His legs shook and his head swam
but he kept his gaze on the bed. The grotesque form lay only inches
from where he had slept. Dealing with death was part of his job,
but sharing his home with a murdered body was an abomination.

His breath came in rapid bursts as the world
around him closed in. Tony raised his hand to drag it across his
face, but stopped. It was covered in the dark blood. He looked at
his arms.

More blood.

He caught a dim reflection of himself in the
mirror. The shadowy visage was darkened with stains. Shock froze
his actions. He was helpless against the fear building inside.

What had he done? Nothing came to mind. A
complete blank filled the space of time that should have been his
memories from last night. He’d left the police station near
midnight. Then he remembered nothing. To help his blanked mind he
slammed his fist against his forehead, but nothing came. The pain
caused him to sway. He refocused and forced himself to remember,
but his memories were fuzzy. Had the body been here when he’d come
home? No, that was impossible. He’d have seen it. But when had it
appeared? It was useless, he didn’t know.

Tony sidestepped his way to the phone,
keeping his eyes on the bed, watching for any sign of movement. The
body had become the danger that lurked around the corner, feeding
fear that clawed at the back of his mind. The scene was laid out in
front of him like a bad horror flick. What if the body moved?
Frozen in death’s grip, this person was now the enemy.

Tony’s eyes didn’t stray from the body on
his bed as he punched in a nine and then a one on the phone’s
keypad. Before he could tap the one again, he froze. He would fry
if he was guilty. The person on dispatch would ask questions. Male,
female? He had no answers. Tony moved closer to the bed. His heart
raced, ramping up the dizziness and disorientation. Could this
person be Marissa?

The body was female, but her skin was dark.
It wasn’t his wife. Relief surged through him and his knees went
weak. He almost fell to the floor. Bracing himself with his arms,
he leaned closer to the victim. The coppery smell of blood made him
gag, forcing him to stand once again.

Rex would know what to do. Tony’s fingers
felt too big for the keypad as he punched the number for Rex.
Dizziness overwhelmed him and he leaned against the wall again. He
wasn’t following procedure, but he didn’t care. His future was on
the line.

“
Hey, Tony, what’s up?”
Rex’s voice came across the speakerphone loud, almost unbearable in
the hush of the morning.

“
Get over
here.”

“
What? Tony, what’s
wrong?”

“
Get over here now.”
Tony’s voice shook as he spoke. Unbridled fear ran rampant across
Tony’s mind. Was the killer still here?

“
Do I need to call
patrol?”

“
No!” Tony screamed, his
voice breaking the barrier that had kept him from going over the
edge. He sank to the floor, searching for his sidearm. His hand
shook as it came up empty. His life as a cop was over.

He’d killed someone. But damn it, he
couldn’t have. He choked back a sob as the line went dead. Tony
didn’t move to hang up his end. The constant buzz from the
speakerphone was comforting in the chaos of his bedroom.

The doorbell rang. Tony didn’t move. It rang
again, but he couldn’t find the strength to get to his feet. He
heard Rex yell from the front of the house, but still he couldn’t
move from his spot where he watched the dead girl.

He heard nothing for a moment, then a key in
his door. Rex still had a copy.

“
Tony, where are you? Hey,
call out or something so I can find you.”

Tony stayed silent, not able to say a word.
He needed to stay calm. A cool, clear and collected head would get
him out of this. He felt, rather than heard, Rex draw near. The
stillness vibrated with an energy that threatened to erupt into the
chaos Tony hated.

He hated the smell that emanated from his
bed. He hated the sticky blood that covered his arms, and he hated
the haze that clouded his memories, blocking out everything from
last night.

The door pushed open and Rex flipped the
switch. Light bathed the room, making the scene on the bed seem
worse, more hideous than it already was. Tony let a sob escape his
lips.

“
Oh God, Tony, what the—
Shit, I don’t even know what to say.” Rex reached over and pushed a
button on the speakerphone. The silence was unnatural. It
encompassed the room and the world around them. Tony wanted the
noise back, anything to distract him from the bed and the body on
it.

“
I didn’t do it.” Tony’s
voice sounded thin and far away from his own body.

“
Tony, is she
dead?”

“
I didn’t do
it.”

Tony saw Rex’s tennis shoes in front of him.
The pristine white leather seemed too clean for this room. Tony
stared at the shoes, unable to lift his head to look Rex in the
eye.

“
I’ll call this
in.”

“
No.” Tony’s voice
reverberated in the room, breaking the stillness that had settled
around him.

“
Tony, you can’t hide
this. It has to be called in.”

“
Call Sekorski, but don’t
call dispatch.”

“
You’re asking me to break
rules.”

“
Don’t call it in. I
didn’t do it.” Tony ignored the tears that streamed down his face.
He focused on Rex’s clean, white shoes. His mind stalled as he ran
back over last night’s events. Blank, that was all he could come up
with. His mind was empty.

“
I’ll call Sekorski, but I
have to call the chief too. He has to--”

“
No.” Tony’s voice held a
steel edge that stopped Rex’s words. Rex turned and faced the bed,
looking over the corpse. Tony watched as Rex shifted his weight
from foot to foot.

“
Tony, you said you didn’t
do this.”

“
I didn’t.”

“
Okay, then we’re going to
find the clues that support your assertion. Sekorski and Randall
need to be called. I’ll call in Michael Rains and
Janice.”

“
Not them.” Tony’s voice
broke as a new wave of grief washed over him. His career was over.
Finding a dead body in your own house was damaging, but finding a
dead body in your own bed when you woke in the morning was total
annihilation.