Unleashed

by Jacob Stone

  The grisly remains of Meagan Campbell lay strewn along the marble-tiled floor, as if the killer had carelessly tossed them away after slicing off these pieces of flesh from her. There was also a splattering of dried blood that didn’t look like it could’ve come from her. Morris asked whether the blood came from Meagan or her husband.

  “I believe it’s from George Campbell,” Smichen said. “I’ll know for sure when we get the lab results back.”

  Morris entered the kitchen and walked over to the chair where George Campbell had been found. He stared at it and then at the splatter of dried blood, as if he were trying to make up his mind.

  “This blood didn’t come from Campbell being struck with the club while he was tied to the chair,” he said.

  “That’s right,” Smichen agreed. The medical examiner walked over to a spot on the floor near the blood splatter and faced the empty chair Campbell had been bound to earlier. “He was standing like this when he was hit. The blow most likely knocked him unconscious, and he struck his head here when he fell to the floor.”

  Smichen touched his long, bony index finger to a spot on the right side of his skull.

  Morris was puzzled by that. “How would that have happened?” he asked. “Would he have been able to fight his way free when the perp was taping him to the chair?”

  Walsh said, “I can make a good guess what happened.” She then told Morris about the offer the killer had made the first victim’s fiancé, Alex Frey.

  Morris’s eyes took on a glazed look as he tried to wrap his head around the killer not following through with his threat, because it must’ve happened the way Annie suggested it did. The killer would’ve made the same offer to George Campbell, and in Campbell’s case, he agreed to it and when he was cut free he tried to fight back. For his troubles, he was smacked across the face with a club and knocked unconscious. But the killer didn’t break every bone in his body like he had promised. He also didn’t make it more hellish for Meagan. He stabbed and cut her more times than he did the first victim, but that was only because Meagan’s heart lasted longer. He didn’t skin her alive or break more of her bones or go out of his way to more cruelly disfigure her than he had his earlier victim, but given his obvious pathology, that was what should’ve happened. George Campbell’s actions should’ve outraged him, but all he did was strike Campbell once in the face with his club, and then continue on as he would’ve otherwise. This went against everything Morris knew about serial killers, especially sadistic predators.

  Maybe it was because Campbell was knocked unconscious. After that, he would’ve tried to wake Campbell, and when he couldn’t he saw no reason to follow through with his promise. But that didn’t make sense. None of the other serial killers Morris had dealt with would’ve acted this way.

  This killer was different. That much was clear.

  Morris asked when Meagan Campbell was murdered. Smichen told him that the victim had been dead somewhere between ten to fourteen hours. Walsh added that the Campbells had dinner last night at a Beverly Hills restaurant and their credit card receipt showed that they had paid their bill at 8:17 p.m.

  Beverly Hills to Echo Park was a half-hour drive. Morris asked, “How long did the torture go on for?”

  “At least an hour,” Smichen said.

  Morris did a quick calculation in his head. “That means time of death was somewhere between nine-forty-five and midnight last night.” He turned to Walsh. “You told me Campbell was unresponsive when he was found. I’m assuming he didn’t break free and call the police and then fall back into unconsciousness.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What time were they found?”

  “A call came in at six-oh-three this morning.”

  Morris was surprised by that. “How’d that happen?” he asked. “A delivery person found the door unlocked?”

  A grim smile hardened Annie Walsh’s lips. “Something else,” she said.

  Chapter 28

  Jasper, Missouri. April 2000

  Duncan Moss ate a dinner of macaroni and cheese with an added sliced hot dog while his dad joined him at the table and drank a beer from the bottle. Duncan knew from the way his dad was studying him that he was trying to figure out the reason for Duncan’s sullen attitude. Well, it should’ve been easy to figure out, and Duncan wasn’t going to tell him. As a further act of rebellion, he surreptitiously fed Buster a piece of hot dog under the table. Buster was a stray that Duncan had found in their backyard three years ago when he was six, and he begged his parents to let him keep the dog. At the time there was a big discussion about it, but in the end his dad told him that if no one called about a lost dog, they could adopt him. They put up posters around town, but no one called, and so Buster joined the family. When Duncan asked his dad what type of dog Buster was, his dad told him he was a mix, but he looked like he had cocker spaniel and border collie in him, and maybe some black lab also. And that he had to be part alley cat too. Duncan was only a little kid then, and since his dad said this as if he were deadly serious, it wasn’t until later that he realized his dad was joking about the alley cat part.

  Duncan knew what a cocker spaniel was from the cartoon Lady and the Tramp, which he watched so many times that his mom begged for mercy whenever he asked to see it again. He also knew about a black lab, since the Hendersons had one. He had never seen a border collie, and when he was eight he went to the library in Carthage with his mom and found a picture of one in the encyclopedia. He could see the resemblance between Buster and that breed, although Buster was shaggier and had floppier ears and his color was more like a muddy brown. Buster’s tail was like a border collie’s, and it made Duncan think of a giant feather duster.

  Duncan wasn’t supposed to give Buster any food at the table, but since he got away with it, he tried sneaking Buster another bite-sized piece of hot dog. This time his dad caught him. His dad, though, didn’t get mad. Instead, he gave him a curious look.

  “I thought this is your favorite dinner?” he asked.

  “It’s not. Mom’s meat loaf with mashed potatoes and gravy is my favorite.”

  “Okay, I stand corrected. But it’s your favorite I’m able to cook. Your mom deserves a night off from cooking, don’t you think?”

  Duncan nodded, since he knew that was true. He could hear his mom rushing around upstairs, getting ready for tonight. She was very pretty, prettier even than most women he’d see on TV. She was also thin and didn’t weigh much, but noises carried and magnified in the house, and when she walked around upstairs it sounded like someone much heavier in army boots was stomping about.

  “Are you upset we’re not taking you with us tonight?”

  Duncan couldn’t believe his dad was asking him that. He knew this was their big night out and that his mom had been looking forward to it for weeks. How could his dad be so clueless as to why he was so upset?

  “I’m nine years old,” he said grudgingly, since he didn’t think he should have to explain something so obvious. “I’m too big to have a babysitter.”

  “Come on, Duncan, you don’t think I know that? But your mom…well, she worries too much sometimes. She wouldn’t be able to enjoy herself tonight if we didn’t have a babysitter, even though you and I know you don’t need one. Don’t you like Ella?”

  Duncan did like Ella. She was what he imagined Mrs. Santa Claus looking like: A large, (although not tall) bosomy woman with white hair and rosy cheeks. When she hugged him it was like being swallowed up by a big, fluffy blanket. She baked a lot also, and whenever she came to their house, whether it was to babysit Duncan or to visit Duncan’s mom, she always brought something good to eat. Maybe that was why Duncan thought she always smelled like apple pie, even if she brought over her homemade chocolate chip cookies.

  Duncan felt better after his dad confided in him the real reason Ella was coming over to babysit. He also got his appetite back and so
on was licking his plate clean.

  “I wonder what Ella will be bringing over tonight?” he asked somewhat sheepishly.

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be freshly baked and I’m sure it will taste good.”

  Duncan was sure of that also. He then heard footsteps descending the stairs, and seconds later his mom walked into the kitchen. Duncan had never seen his mom dressed up like that before. She wasn’t just very pretty right then, but glamorous, like a movie star, and he told his mom that. She blushed and told him he had to say that because they were related.

  “The boy’s right,” his dad said. “You take my breath away just looking at you.”

  “Hush now,” she said, her blush deepening. To change the subject, she started fretting about whether they’d get to their dinner reservation on time. “Traffic to Joplin can be a snail’s pace, especially if a truck breaks down on I-forty-nine. It’s been known to happen, you know!”

  “We’ve got over an hour and the drive’s only thirty-five minutes, even with bad traffic. Sue, honey, you got nothing to fret about.”

  The doorbell rang almost as if on cue. Ella. Duncan found himself hoping she had baked a cherry pie for the occasion. He could sure fancy a slice of that now!

  Buster rose to his feet and trotted out of the kitchen and toward the door, his big feather-duster tail wagging back and forth. Duncan’s dad followed after the dog. Duncan’s mom came over to him and showed him a lopsided smile—the type that always made him feel good just to see.

  “Sweetie, I’ll miss you tonight,” she said.

  “I’ll be okay,” he said. “Me and Buster will keep the house safe.”

  “I’m sure you two will.”

  She reached down, pushed his hair aside, and kissed him on the forehead. His mom usually didn’t wear any makeup, but this was a special night and she had put on lipstick. Duncan was sure she had left a smudge on him, but he didn’t mind. He reached for her hand.

  “Let’s go see what Ella brought,” he said with a sly grin.

  Normally, he wouldn’t want to be seen holding his mom’s hand. That was something little kids did. Or girls. But this was a special night for his mom, and he was feeling much better after learning the truth about why Ella was babysitting him tonight. And so he walked to the front door with his mom, not caring at all what anyone might think. If any of his friends from school were there he might’ve acted differently, but it would just be his dad, Ella, and Buster, and he could trust them.

  It was Ella who had rung the doorbell. She was chatting excitedly with Duncan’s dad, her face flushed while his dad was holding a plate covered with tinfoil. Ella spotted Duncan and his mom and she gushed over both of them, first engulfing Duncan in a hug (and today Duncan thought she smelled like vanilla and butterscotch), and then taking hold of Duncan’s mom’s hands and talking about what a wonderful time she was sure Sue was going to have.

  “Ten-year anniversary! Well, doesn’t time fly! I remember when you and Tom moved in here, and Duncan was no bigger than an acorn squash!”

  “Ella, I can’t thank you enough for making the time to be here tonight with Duncan.”

  Ella looked shocked at that. “Of course I’d be here tonight!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “Why wouldn’t I want to spend the evening with my favorite boy in the world!”

  Duncan knew that couldn’t be true. Ella had three children of her own. All of them were now older than Duncan’s parents, and they had sons and daughters of their own. Still, even though he knew Ella was exaggerating, he liked hearing it. His mouth also began to water. Whatever Ella had brought smelled awfully good. Ella caught him looking at the plate his dad was holding, and she told him to go ahead and have one already.

  “I found a recipe for something called blondies,” she said, cheerfully. “They’re sort of like brownies, but different.”

  Duncan peeled away the tinfoil and took one of the thick rectangular pastries arranged on it. He found it gooey and delicious.

  “It’s really good,” he said. “Mom, you should try one.”

  Ella was beaming. His mom said that it smelled wonderful and that she’d have one when they got home later. “You don’t want me to ruin my appetite for later, do you?”

  Duncan agreed that wouldn’t be a smart thing to do, especially since he knew his parents were going to a fancy restaurant, something he couldn’t remember them ever doing before. His dad left them so he could put the plate of blondies in the kitchen and while he was gone, his mom gave Ella a piece of paper with the name of the restaurant and a phone number to call, then she hugged and kissed Duncan and headed outside so she could warm up the car. When Duncan’s dad came back to the door, he handed Duncan two comic books that he must’ve hidden earlier. The most recent copies of Wolverine and the Uncanny X-Men. The Wolverine comic book had the Incredible Hulk on the cover, Duncan’s favorite comic book superhero.

  “I thought you could use something special tonight also,” he said, winking at Duncan and tousling his hair. “Just don’t tell your mom, okay?”

  Since Duncan turned nine, his mom wanted him reading regular books instead of comic books. He promised his dad he wouldn’t say a word about it. Ella promised that her lips were sealed also. His dad grinned at both of them as he left the house. Ella and Duncan headed back upstairs.

  Duncan shared another blondie with Ella (she warned him that if he ate a second full one he might suffer a stomachache), read both comic books twice, then played Ella in checkers before she told him it was time for him to get ready for bed. He was brushing his teeth when he heard someone knocking on the door. It was a harsh, violent sound. Without fully understanding it, he knew it was a bad omen. That no good could come of someone knocking on a door like that, especially late at night. He left his toothbrush in the bathroom and headed downstairs.

  Ella was at the door talking to two policemen. Her back was turned to him, but she was standing funny. Brittle, like she might fall apart. That was what Duncan thought. When he saw the grave expressions on the policemen’s faces, his stomach began hurting as if he had drunk sour milk. Ella must’ve heard him, because she turned to face him. She looked stricken. Like she had just heard the worst news in the world.

  “Is my mom okay?” he asked, his voice tinny and sounding like it must’ve come from a boy much smaller than himself.

  He asked only about his mom, not because he didn’t care about his dad, but because his dad was tough and powerfully built, and because of that Duncan believed he was invincible. His mom was different. Not that she was weak, but she was so slender and delicate-looking and Duncan didn’t think he could stand it if anything bad ever happened to her.

  Duncan’s question only made Ella look more stricken. She rushed to him, hugging him so tightly she could’ve almost smothered him. She was crying and telling him how sorry she was. He didn’t feel the wetness from her tears or even his small body being pressed into hers. He was too numb right then to feel anything.

  Chapter 29

  Jasper, Missouri. April 2000

  Duncan’s parents died when a truck drove into them. The Mosses were heading south on I-49 when the truck driving in the northbound lane drifted into their path. This happened too suddenly for Tom Moss to maneuver his Chevy Impala to safety, and he and his wife were killed instantly, their car crushed like a tin can. The driver in the truck, Arnold Nagly, suffered only minor bumps and bruises, and the incident was later ruled an unfortunate accident. Nagly had fallen asleep due to fatigue from driving nonstop for eighteen hours.

  Duncan didn’t learn all this right away, and some of it he didn’t discover until years afterwards. For the first eight days after the accident he was too numb to pay much attention to what was being said around him. Those were eight terrible days, although he’d have much worse later, but during that time he was too numb to feel anything and whenever anyone spoke to him it was as if they were ta
lking to him through a windstorm and their voices would fade in and out. There were moments also when he’d start to panic and feel like he was drowning. It was a crazy feeling, since he wouldn’t be in water, but that was what it was like. Those moments would sneak up on him. They never lasted long and afterwards he’d be left desperately trying to catch his breath, as if he couldn’t draw enough air into his lungs.

  It was two days after the double funeral for his parents that he finally broke out of the numbness shrouding him and was more like his normal self. Not that he was happy or anything. He was sadder than he had ever imagined possible, but at least he could breathe more easily and was able to understand what people were saying. Things that he heard during those eight days had sunk in, even if he hadn’t been aware of it. Fragments anyway, and slowly he began recalling some of it.

  Ella and her husband, Mr. Hubble, had brought him to their home and he remembered a woman with short red hair and a long, pointy chin who came to ask him about his relatives. He remembered Ella and Mr. Hubble sitting at the table with him, Ella looking like she was fretting and Mr. Hubble deep in thought. Duncan couldn’t remember what he told this woman, but it couldn’t have been much. He knew his mom had had an older brother who worked on oil rigs and died in a fire before Duncan was born. He also knew that his grandma and grandpa on his mom’s side died when he was little and he couldn’t remember much about them. As far as he knew that was her only family. He didn’t know anything about his dad’s family. When he was seven he asked his mom about it and she told him that it was a subject he shouldn’t ever talk about. That it would only make his dad sad.

  It was two days after Duncan broke out of his numbness that he overheard Ella and Mr. Hubble talking about him. They thought he was asleep, but he had gotten out of bed for a glass of water and had walked to the kitchen, being extra-quiet about it. It wasn’t that he was being sneaky, but he didn’t want Ella catching him and fretting about him and asking if he was having nightmares. He didn’t much like anyone asking him any questions since his parents died. Buster, who had stuck by his side almost every minute since the accident, followed him to the kitchen, and was also being quiet. Ella and Mr. Hubble were in the living room, and she was talking about how she wanted the two of them to adopt Duncan, and Mr. Hubble said that he wouldn’t be opposed to it, but that they had to wait to see if Children’s Services were able to locate any of Duncan’s family. That surprised Duncan. Mr. Hubble was usually aloof around him, like he didn’t much understand him, but since the accident he looked at him differently, almost with a softness, and at times he would put his hand on Duncan’s shoulder like he was trying to be reassuring.