Dangerous & Deadly- The Nick Myers Series

by Tanya R. Taylor

  “They had a press conference this morning and the mayor announced the police department’s latest findings in the serial killer investigation,” Martinez started. “What the hell did you do, Victor?” He was hovering over the desk. “Do you realize you have the entire state - country for that matter - now convinced that you are a serial killer?”

  Victor was squeezing each hand with the other as if he was gradually ‘losing it’. “I thought Detective Myers could help me clear my name,” he said quietly.

  “And you trusted him?” Martinez barked. “The man’s a crocodile! He’ll wiggle anything out of you in order to build a strong case.”

  “Charles, you have no idea what I’m going through in this place. I’m hanging on by a single thread here. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m not like these people,” Victor said.

  “I know you’re not, but you can’t just go around doing whatever you feel like pertaining to this matter without my knowledge!”

  “I knew you’d never agree to it,” Victor confessed. “With Betty ill and havoc wreaking in their lives because of this whole situation, I was desperate. I didn’t think that psychopath was watching me when I buried the limb he planted in my trunk.”

  “Victor, you speak with your attorney first - not the cops!” Martinez stood up and attempted to compose himself. “Now we’re in a deeper pit than before. Only a miracle can get us out of this mess. I hate to say it, Victor, but that’s the way things are looking right now.”

  Victor thought for a moment. “Maybe all hope isn’t lost, Charles. Maybe in the back of their minds, they believe me.”

  “And then what?” Asked Martinez, staring at him. “The evidence speaks for itself and it will in court. As far as the police are concerned, their investigation into this serial-killer case is closed.”

  * * * *

  Betty had watched the televised coverage of the special press conference from her hospital room that morning. Everyone in attendance seemed elated by the news, but she felt like her heart was dying inside.

  “I’m so sorry,” Joe said to Betty after entering the room. He went over and kissed her as Tim and Lisa walked in behind him.

  Betty patted her face lightly with the crumpled-up tissue she had been holding.

  “I decided it was best that the kids didn’t go to school today,” Joe glanced at them.

  “Yeah,” Betty replied sadly, reaching out to them. “Are you kids okay?”

  Tim shook his head angrily. “Okay? How can we be okay when the whole world’s calling our dad a serial killer!” He stormed over to the window and stared into nowhere.

  “Lisa?” Betty turned to the girl who was now sitting on the bed beside her. “I want to know what you’re feeling, honey. We have to be open and honest with each other in order to get through this.”

  “What else are we going to hear, Aunt Bee? It all seems like a terrible nightmare,” Lisa responded with an elevating degree of frustration. “First, he’s accused of the murders of Mr. and Mrs. Guillespe, and now they’re calling him a serial-killer!”

  “What’s ultimately important, honey, is that we all know the truth,” Betty said. “Your dad could have never done the horrible things he’s being accused of. We just have to try even harder now to stick together and continue to have faith that everything will work out just fine.” She called Tim over and held him closely. He hopelessly fought back the tears. “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay to cry,” Betty stroked his hair gently.

  Joe stood there desperately wishing he could do something to make it all better.

  A short while later, Betty sent Tim and Lisa on an errand to the hospital cafeteria. She was eager to get her husband alone.

  “He told them!” She exclaimed. “And not only that, he actually showed them where he buried it!”

  “You knew all the while?” Joe was shocked.

  “Yeah, I knew. He told me all about it. Oh, I wish I could find this person who did this to him and turned our lives upside down. I want to look him in the eye and tell him how much I hate him!”

  “Now calm down, Betty. I know how you feel, but you have to remember what Doc said about getting overly excited and all,” Joe said.

  “I’m not overly excited, Joe. I’m just angry. Oh, let me call Charles and find out what the hell is going on!” She dialed the number to Martinez & Strauss and was soon transferred to Martinez’s extension.

  “Charles, Betty Scholl here,” she said rather abruptly after Martinez had answered the line. “What in the world happened the other day? Did you know that Victor was going to incriminate himself like that?” She chose her words carefully.

  “I spoke with Victor just the day before and he didn’t indicate anything to me of that nature. For some reason, he thought that this Detective Myers would help him get out of jail more quickly if he assisted in any way,” Martinez also chose his words carefully.

  “When did you last see Victor?” Betty asked.

  “Actually, a while ago. In fact, you caught me just as I walked through the door.”

  Betty could not understand why Victor had taken matters into his own hands. “So is there any hope for him now, Charles?” She asked.

  “Betty, I’m going to be straight with you. This latest development threw us off track quite a bit,” Martinez said, “but we’re going to fight this with everything we’ve got. You can be sure of that.”

  “You do that, Charles,” Betty replied.

  Later that same evening, against the advice of her doctor and her husband, Betty discharged herself from hospital.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Was your brother, Frank, always so distrustful?” Ray asked Annie as he sat at his kitchen table watching her.

  “Oh, Frank’s great. He’ll warm up to you in time,” she said while setting a plate of cheese and crackers down.

  “You two are really like night and day. It’s like you’ve been cut from a totally different cloth.”

  “Frank’s actually my adopted brother,” Annie affirmed.

  “Adopted? You never mentioned it before,” Ray said.

  “Well, I guess there was no reason to,” she answered curtly. “Adopted or not, he’s still my brother.”

  “You’re absolutely right, darling,” Ray smiled as Annie took a seat across from him.

  “Frank and I have had it pretty rough as kids growing up. Our father was really mean to us and constantly abused us for no conceivable reason. The slightest thing would set him off. It was crazy,” she recalled. “Frank was always a tough kid though. He could take the beatings and verbal abuse once it wasn’t done to me. He rescued me from my father’s hand countless times and many times, ended up taking the beatings for me. But as soon as I turned seventeen, I moved out and took Frank with me. I quickly landed a job and rented my own place. A year after that, my father died and neither of us bothered to attend the funeral.” She buttered up a cracker, then started eating. “Frank's younger than I am, but he was always like an older brother to me. See, Frank had a much harder life than I had and with that a better ability to cope. Growing up, I always felt sorry for myself because I didn’t have a mother to teach me things, comfort me when I was sad, rescue me from the brutal hands of my own father…”

  “What happened to your mom,” Ray interjected.

  “She died in childbirth – actually while having me,” she replied sadly. “Although my dad never said it, I always felt like he blamed me for my mother’s death and that’s why he treated me so badly.”

  “I’m really sorry, darling.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve pretty much gotten over it,” she replied. “Anyway, Frank was put up for adoption when he was only a year old and had gone through a series of abusive foster homes before my father adopted him. Some of the things Frank suffered at the hands of adults were unimaginable,” she said.

  “Things like what?” Ray asked curiously.

  “In one particular foster home, the couple treated him like a literal slave. At six years old, he ha
d to get up each morning at the break of dawn and rake the fallen leaves from the yard, even though the rake alone was at least three feet taller than he was and it took him hours to cover the entire yard. He remembered that if one leaf was left on the ground, he would get a severe beating for it.” She paused briefly. “A few months later, they decided they didn’t want him anymore and sent him back to the orphanage. It was after that when my father took him in, and eventually adopted him. He continued where all the others left off.”

  “What I don’t understand is since your father apparently didn’t like children very much, why he decided to adopt Frank in the first place,” Ray said.

  “Because he wanted a boy,” Annie replied. “Dad was always competing with his friends and every one of them had a son. When Frank came into our lives, he was just seven and I was ten. Fortunately, we developed an instant bond and from then on were close.”

  “Wow, it's really terrible what happened to both of you. Guess that explains Frank’s behavior then,” Ray inferred.

  “He’s really a nice guy, Ray. You just have to get to know him a little better. That’s all,” Annie smiled.

  Though not saying it, Ray decided to make an even greater effort to get better acquainted with the man who had such a profound effect on the woman he loved. He truly felt sorry for Frank and began to wonder if he would have been as strong if, through fate, he had been placed in the exact same situation.

  * * * *

  A sinister character lurked behind some thickets near the yard. He had been watching the place for hours and knew that its occupant was now alone. It was almost midnight - the perfect time to strike. By now, the building was in utter darkness with the exception of the even glow from the small porch light.

  The figure saw his way clear and leapt over the wall, scurrying through the yard in stooping fashion wearing jet black garb. He advanced toward the front of the home, clutching tightly onto the navy blue duffle bag he had brought along. He stood aside in the gloom, staring at the front door for a few short moments, knowing that he must enter quickly for the glaring light beyond the door could easily expose him. Getting in would be easy; he had done it at least a dozen times before. It was a game, a sport, very rarely - a challenge for him. Without further thought, he snuck across the porch to the front door, unzipped his bag and retrieved a picker and alarm-disabling device - an object no thinner than a knife blade and no longer than a tablespoon. He immediately went to work on the door and within seconds, had successfully unlocked it, and disabled the alarm. He was now inside.

  He switched on his searchlight, though his night eyes were what he truly relied on. He would have no bucks or bumps - nothing that would foil his plan. In his mind, he was a professional, and though self-trained, he was the best.

  He made his way cautiously through the spacious interior, straight into the master bedroom. He knew his prey was there, lying in almost the exact position he had anticipated. It was going to be sweet. He could feel the thrill of it now - an unbelievably titillating sensation. Standing at the door, he switched off the searchlight and rested it in his bag, for light from the open window shone in as if it had expected his arrival. He rested the duffle bag on the floor, then reached inside and slowly retrieved the hacksaw and dagger - one in each hand. To him, this was a special occasion and he planned to make the most of it.

  He silently approached his intended victim, stopping only a few inches from the bed. He looked down at him sprawled across the sheet on his back in probable dreamland. The intruder cautiously placed the hacksaw at the edge of the bed and clutched the dagger firmly in his right hand. His plan was to make use of the dagger first, and the other for the exterior decorating.

  He moved an inch closer, eased up the extra pillow that sat near the man's extended right hand and quickly forced it over his face. Though he could tell from the victim’s tugging that he instantly awoke, he was determined to get the job done. He elevated his hand and brought the blade vigorously down into the man’s shoulder, the first protrusion that caused the victim to jerk forward hard enough to toss the pillow from his face. The predator stabbed his prey again triggering every nerve inside his body, and causing him to evoke an ear-piercing squeal. The victim looked in terror as he saw the shadow of a man elevating his right hand again and he sprung forward with all his might, quickly catching his arm. The intruder yanked the hacksaw from the edge of the bed with his left hand and sliced the man’s already injured shoulder. The man on the bed struggled over to the right side where he was able to retrieve a baseball bat. “Eat this!” He said swinging his last good arm at the stranger’s chest. The blow staggered the intruder to the wall which convinced him that he was in trouble. Realizing now that the battle was more difficult to win than he had initially anticipated, and that neighbors might have already heard the commotion, he sprinted toward the door, yanked his duffle bag from the floor, and fled the house more quickly than he had entered it.

  * * * *

  Annie felt like her heart was thumping right out of her chest as she scurried through the E.R. She had been told that Ray had just been wheeled onto the northern end of the room.

  “Oh, my God, what happened to you?” She rushed to his side, distraught at the very sight of him. Ray was bandaged from shoulder to waist, with cuts and bruises over his face and upper body. He looked as if he could barely move.

  “Some maniac attacked me last night, but I’m all right now, babes,” he said, happy to see her in spite of his pain.

  “How did it happen?” Annie insisted, holding his left hand.

  Ray cautiously slid himself upright. “I was asleep when he threw a pillow on my head and tried to smother me. Then he turned around, stabbed me and sliced my shoulder with an ax or something. He obviously wasn’t there to rob me.”

  Annie was clearly horrified. “Did you recognize him?”

  Ray shook his head. “He was wearing some sort of ski mask. Anyway, the doctor says I’m lucky because if that idiot had given a bit more force to the slicer, he would have tore off my right arm clean.”

  “This is terrible, honey.” Annie caressed the back of his hand. Then something hit her. “You know, that guy who attacked you… his actions seem quite similar to those of the serial-killer according to some of the things I’ve been hearing on the news.”

  “They caught that guy already, remember?” Ray stated. “Unless there’s a copycat on the loose. Come to think of it now, that Emerson guy looks a lot like your brother, Frank.”

  “Strangers do sometimes resemble, don’t they? Now, do you have any idea who may have wanted to hurt you?” Annie asked, quickly reverting to the matter at hand.

  “No, I don’t, detective,” Ray answered, smiling.

  “Have the police questioned you about the attack yet?”

  “Yeah, but it was a complete waste of time,” Ray uttered. “I won't be surprised if I never hear a word from them again.”

  Annie was worried that if the police did not apprehend the intruder Ray might be brutally attacked again—or even killed.

  “Don’t worry, babes,” he saw the concern on her face. “The stud’s all right now.”

  Annie leaned forward and kissed him, her relief strangely profound.

  A few hours later, Annie returned home. She was eager to share the shocking news of Ray’s attack with Frank. She had repeatedly tried to reach him at the house, but did not get an answer. He had been asleep when Ray had called from the hospital earlier that morning, so she decided not to wake him.

  Frank’s bedroom door was shut. Instead of knocking, just in case he was still asleep, Annie turned the knob slowly and quietly peered inside. She did not see him. Appraising the space, her eyes soon fell on a navy blue duffle bag at the foot of the bed. The top of it appeared to be sprinkled with something red. As if drawn by a magnet, she walked inside the room and knelt down beside the bag. Up close, the red sprinkles appeared to be blood. Her curiosity now piqued, Annie unzipped the bag and looked inside. She picked up a th
in, metal device the likes of which she had never seen before, then observed a hacksaw, a dagger, some duct tape, tangled rope, and a red diary - items she never thought her brother owned. She retrieved the small diary and started browsing through the lined pages. Almost immediately, her eyes dilated and jaw slackened.

  She abruptly held the book down and thought for a moment: ‘It can’t be. He’s totally incapable of this.’ Then she turned and noticed the empty wheel-chair on the far side of the closet, and was instantly overwhelmed with terror. Just then, the bathroom door screeched open and Frank stood in the doorway. He was obviously just as shocked to see Annie as she was to see him. The silence, though pregnant, was deafening.

  “It couldn’t have been a lie,” Annie finally said shaking her head. “Not all this time, Frank.” Her body felt both stiff and numb, and the sight of him was beginning to nauseate her.

  “I had to do it, Annie. I had to make them pay for all those years I suffered,” he replied, stepping closer.

  “What do you mean you had to make them pay? You killed innocent people, Frank! How could you do that? How could you?!”

  “They weren’t the ones I wanted to hurt, Annie. I only used them to prove a point.” His voice was void of empathy.

  Stupefied, Annie stared at him. “To prove a point? Six innocent people! This whole thing was a charade wasn’t it? A charade for you to carry out your sick vendetta!” She cried. “You recovered from the accident long ago, didn’t you? Then you set this whole thing up. You used me all this time. I gave up everything for you, Frank - my life, my career - everything!”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Annie. I never wanted to hurt you,” Frank replied. “It was those people who destroyed my life, who caused me to live like a nobody all those years while they lived like royalty. I hated them with everything in me... I still do.”

  “You hated who?” Annie was perplexed.

  “That guy and his family - all except one of ‘em,” he said. “Lisa was the nicest person to talk to. She liked me even though she never knew who she was speaking with time and time again. Sometimes I just wanted to hear her sweet voice, you know.” He seemed to be drifting away in the moment.