Sky Like Bone: a serial killer thriller

by V. J. Chambers

  “I can reassure you that you can leave at any time,” said Watkins. “I don’t think you’ll want to, but if that’s what’s giving you pause, let me make that clear.”

  “So, we’re making a commitment, but it’s not necessarily binding?”

  Watkins laughed. “Listen, the philosophy that I subscribe to is all about, um, intention. Uh, about will. If you get a clear focus in your head of what it you truly will to happen in your life, and in the whole world, then you’re head and shoulders ahead of most people, because most people are just swimming through life, do you know what I’m saying?”

  “Sure,” said Reilly, nodding. Wren nodded too.

  “Now, I’m not saying this is something mystical—not, you know, that if you put your will out into the world, your will magically changes the world. But what I am saying is that if you have a goal, then you’ll act in service of that goal. You keep that goal in the forefront of your mind every day, and then it becomes clearer and clearer what you need to do in order to manifest that goal, and then you get there. Now, the two of you, you’ve indicated to me that what you want is to come back from the disaster of your lives, right? You were bankrupt, your home was repossessed, and you had nothing. But you are going to claw yourselves back up. I see that light in your eyes. You are determined people. So, when I tell you that if you come to stay here and make this commitment, that it will help you achieve your goals, believe me. It will.”

  Wren looked at Reilly, who spread his hands. “Well, we’re in. Obviously, we’re in.”

  “Great,” said Watkins. “Then meet me at quitting time today, and I will take you there.”

  “Today?” said Wren. “Um, we’re kind of staying with Clive, and shouldn’t we go back and pack a bag or something? If you need us tonight, we could take a bus back out to meet you here, or to wherever—”

  “Quitting time today, Wren,” said Watkins. “Make a commitment.”

  Wren swallowed. This plan relied on their needing to be wired up, to have the FBI at their beck and call. If they didn’t have that, then Reilly could be in danger. They could both be in danger, of course, but Watkins was more likely to dispose of Reilly more quickly. “I don’t know. I really think we need just a little time to prepare.”

  “No way,” said Reilly, shaking his head. “You heard the man, Wren. We gotta make a commitment. So, yes, we’re committed, and we will see you at quitting time.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Clive where you are,” said Watkins. “And once you get settled, you can call him, and we’ll make arrangements for your stuff.”

  “Okay,” said Reilly.

  “I don’t know,” said Wren, stepping close to him. She poked her fingers into his side. “I don’t want to take unnecessary risks, Cai.”

  “Life is risk,” said Reilly, grinning widely at Watkins. “Come on, babe, tell the man you’re in.”

  She looked up at him. Reilly never called her pet names like that, but they’d taken to doing it as part of their cover. He nodded down at her. She swallowed hard. Then she forced herself to smile. “I’m in. We’re both in.”

  “Excellent!” Watkins gave them both a hug, slapping them excitedly on their backs. Then he left them to the washing machines.

  As soon as he was gone, Wren turned to Reilly. “What are you thinking? We need to be wired up if we’re going in.”

  “I’m thinking I don’t want this opportunity to slip us by,” said Reilly.

  “We don’t even have guns,” said Wren. There weren’t easy ways to hide them when they were doing physical work here, and it would blow their covers to be caught with firearms.

  “We’ll be fine,” said Reilly. “We’re Caius Reilly and Wren Delacroix. Come on, doesn’t it excite you a little bit, going in on our own?” He bit down on his bottom lip, arching an eyebrow.

  She looked at the place where his lip plumped out under his teeth, and a little tremor went through her. “This is dangerous.” But her voice wasn’t strong. “We’re risking you.”

  “It’s an even risk.”

  “He probably kills the men in the couples first,” she said. “And I can’t make it without you, Cai, I just can’t.”

  “I’m going to be fine,” said Reilly. “How many times have we gone into the lion’s den and come out the other side, Wren?”

  “Just because we’ve been lucky in the past doesn’t mean we should get cocky.”

  “Lucky? Come on, we have skills.”

  “You were supposed to fly out to go see Timmy tomorrow,” she said.

  His shoulders slumped. “Damn it.” He turned away from her. “Well, we’re going to tie this up quickly. I miss one weekend with Timmy, it’s not the end of the world. But we better call Krieger and tell him what’s going on.” He got his phone out of his pocket and dialed.

  Wren waited, twisting her fingers together.

  Reilly took the phone away from his ear. “Voicemail.”

  “Yeah, he’s picking peaches,” said Wren. “He probably can’t stop and take a call from us.”

  “I probably shouldn’t risk texting it to him,” said Reilly. “I’m going to call Janessa and tell her I won’t be coming home, though.” He put the phone back to his ear.

  While he was doing that, Wren tried Krieger again.

  This time, he picked up. “Hey, I can’t really talk right now.”

  “Watkins tapped us,” she said. “But he wants to leave with us from the building here, at quitting time.”

  “Stall, say no,” said Krieger.

  “I tried. He wouldn’t go for it.” Actually, she thought they might have been able to convince him, but Reilly had committed, and now it would be too hard otherwise. “We’re going to go. You’re going to have to track our phones.”

  “Like he’s going to let you take your phones to his kill site!” snapped Krieger.

  “Well, we have no other option at this point,” she said.

  “Delacroix, abort,” said Krieger. “Do not do this. You go with him, I cannot protect you. The bureau cannot protect you.”

  She hesitated.

  “I have to hang up,” said Krieger. “Get out of it. If he wants you bad enough, he’ll try again. He’ll do it on your terms.” The line went dead.

  Wren lowered her phone from her ear.

  Reilly was still on the phone with Janessa. “I really am sorry. I thought it would be possible for me to be back this weekend. Should I talk to him?” A pause. “Oh, right. Well, I would call back after he got off school, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to. Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him… Janessa?” He sighed, turning back to Wren. “She hung up on me. Great. So, she’s pissed at me. What else is new?”

  “Krieger wants us to get out of it,” said Wren. “He says that if Watkins wants us bad enough, he’ll try again and he’ll do it on our terms.”

  “Yeah, and what do you think of that?” said Reilly.

  “Well…” Wren blew out a breath. “We know that serial killers will sometimes canvas groups of people, trying to get a victim. The day at Lake Sammamish, Ted Bundy wandered around with a cast, trying to get help from lots of women, and some of them said no. Did he try those people again? He didn’t.”

  “Yeah, see?” said Reilly.

  “And we know that cult leaders tend to dismiss people who are too skeptical. I’ve seen a ideo of Keith Raniere talking about how skeptical people are just missing out on the joy of the enlightenment he brings people in his group, you know?”

  “So, he wouldn’t try again.”

  “Well, on the other hand, this is a separate situation, and Watkins has already invested time in us. Apparently, he usually waits longer than this before moving on to the next level, and this time, he’s not, which indicates that maybe he’s antsy, and maybe he wants us really badly. Maybe the urge is riding him strongly.”

  “If we back out, we’re rolling the dice,” said Reilly. “We have him, Wren. We have him in the palm of our hands.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “C
ai, he’ll have a plan for incapacitating us. He’ll probably use us against each other. Without help, without people listening in and ready to move in—”

  “We can’t risk losing him,” said Reilly.

  “Even if it means risking your life?” said Wren. “Risking my life?”

  “You’re tough,” said Reilly, reaching out and cupping her face with his palm. “You’re incredibly tough. You’re unkillable.”

  “That’s not true.” She shook her head. She covered his hand with her own. “But if we lose this guy… I don’t know if I could deal with that.”

  “Me either,” he said. “I definitely couldn’t deal with that.”

  She shut her eyes. “So, we’re doing this.”

  “We’re doing this,” said Reilly.

  “YOU two about ready?” Watkins waved to them from the doorway of the laundry room.

  “Ready,” said Wren cheerily. Her pulse was starting to thrum beneath her skin. She reached out and seized Reilly’s hand.

  He squeezed it reassuringly and took the lead, heading for the doorway. He was still holding her hand, tugging her along behind him.

  “This is going to be the first day of the rest of your life,” said Watkins. “You’re going to look back on this moment, and know that this was the moment when you made the choice to change your life for the better.”

  Or the moment when we we decided to go knowingly to our deaths, thought Wren. All for the excitement of the hunt.

  She remembered a conversation she’d had with Phineas Slater, in which he’d talked to her about how the pull to kill was as undeniable as the tide, sucking him out to sea. He’d said that they were the same in that way, and it was true that she and Reilly had done stupid, stupid things when they were hunting Slater, and that all they’d gotten for their trouble was locked up in a dog crate in their underwear.

  The difference was, that time, she’d convinced Reilly to do the stupid thing. He’d resisted, for half a second, and then he’d been on board.

  This time, he’d convinced her, but she could already feel the adrenaline building at the back of her neck. It was fear and excitement, all bundled into one intoxicating concoction. It drove her. It sustained her.

  They stepped into the hallway and she pressed into Reilly, still holding tight to his hand. She felt breathless and a little too-hot, anticipatory and shivery.

  Watkins turned back and grinned at them, obviously keyed-up too.

  This was bad.

  But wasn’t it also glorious?

  Watkins led them to his car, a black Nissan Juke. “The legroom’s a little iffy in the back, so Wren’ll probably want to sit there, and you can sit up front, Cai.”

  This meant they had to let go of each other.

  She squeezed his hand tightly, and he squeezed back.

  Then they let go.

  They got in the car, and Watkins did too. He started it by pressing a button on the steering column. “I told Gloria to get with Clive and explain to him that you two were with me.”

  “Thanks,” said Wren.

  “You probably sent him a text already,” said Watkins, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

  “Yeah,” said Reilly.

  “Don’t worry about your stuff,” said Watkins, smiling at Wren in the rearview mirror. “I promise we’ll get that all sorted out.”

  “Of course,” said Wren.

  They drove through town and then got on the highway.

  “How far is it?” said Reilly.

  “Oh, not far,” said Watkins. “Maybe ten more minutes or so. I’ll tell you, since we’re headed there anyway, that we’re going to my house. Where I live.”

  “You said it was a facility connected to the organization that runs Love Over Want,” said Wren.

  “Well, that’s not exactly a lie,” said Watkins. “I am affiliated. This is kind of my thing, though. It’s my own outreach project, and I fund it myself.”

  Interesting. Watkins wanted them to think that he was wealthy, then.

  But then, maybe he was wealthy. The size of his house seemed to indicate that. It was three stories high, with a garage and a pool. But the very small fenced-in yard and the close neighbors didn’t seem to indicate that it was an ideal place to carry out murders.

  Watkins pulled into the garage. It was neat and ordered inside, with some various tools on shelves lining the walls. There was another car there, a gleaming red sports car. “That one is just for fun,” said Watkins, pointing at the car. “I take it out for joy rides. It’s just a pleasure car.” He jerked his head toward a door. “This way.”

  The door opened into the kitchen of the house. A woman was behind the counter, chopping broccoli. She looked up. “Paul, you’re back.”

  “I’m back,” said Watkins. “I told you I was bringing new recruits.”

  The woman came out from behind the counter. She was heavily pregnant. “My name is Francesca Crawford.”

  Wren recognized that name. That was one of the women who’d gone missing. She swallowed.

  “So nice to meet you,” said Francesca, offering her hand to them. “I know you’ll fit in just fine here.”

  They all shook hands, and Watkins ushered them through the kitchen. “Follow me,” he called, heading up a set of stairs.

  He took them to the top floor of the house, to a guest suite—it seemed there were two on the top floor here, two bedrooms with their own bathrooms. The bedroom was tastefully decorated in muted browns and reds. It wasn’t a large room, but it wasn’t too small either.

  Watkins gestured around. “This is where you’ll be staying.”

  “It’s very nice,” said Wren.

  “Thank you,” said Reilly.

  “Now, typically, you’ll have the run of the house,” said Watkins, “but until we get everything squared away, I have to ask you to stay in your room for the night. I’ve done it the other way around, and it’s all so new and confusing that people get a little weird sometimes, so, if you don’t mind, stay up here. I will have your dinner brought up to you. You guys get some sleep, settle in, all that. Then tomorrow morning, I’ll explain everything.” He beamed at them.

  “We have to wait until tomorrow?” said Wren. Maybe that was so he could drug their food and kill Reilly while they both asleep.

  “You have to wait until tomorrow,” confirmed Watkins. “Patience, both of you.” He clapped his hands together, and then he shut the door on them.

  A beat.

  Wren went over to try the door. It wasn’t locked. It opened immediately. “So, he’s not forcing us to stay in here, then. We’re just on the honor system?”

  “He didn’t take our phones,” said Reilly.

  “Which means either he’s really stupid or he’s not going to do it here,” said Wren. Even so, she called Maliah right away.

  “Wren!” said Maliah.

  “Are you drunk?” said Wren.

  “It’s much later here than it is there,” said Maliah. “Cut a girl some slack.”

  “Well, I was hoping you could trace our phones and get an address, but if you’re out of it, I’ll get someone else—”

  “I can do that,” said Maliah. “No worries, girl, I got you.”

  “Well, good, then,” said Wren. “Do that, then, and if you don’t hear from us, have the field office out here send agents to this address.”

  “Will do,” said Maliah. “Are you two doing something crazy and dangerous right now?”

  “Why do you say that?” said Wren.

  “I don’t know. Seems like it’s par for the course for y’all is all. Take care of yourselves, okay?”

  “Of course,” said Wren. She hung up the phone.

  “I really hope there aren’t cameras here,” said Reilly. “Like in Slater’s place.”

  “Shit, I didn’t even think of that,” said Wren. “If there are, we’re blown.”

  “Guess we sit tight and wait,” said Reilly. “If he knows we’re working with the FBI, I bet he treats us ver
y differently than he would otherwise.”

  “We could look for cameras.”

  “We could also do that.”

  They turned the room apart, but they didn’t find anything. Just as they were giving up and putting everything back in order, there was a knock at the door.

  Another pregnant woman was there with a tray of food—beef and broccoli stir fry. It looked and smelled amazing. This woman wasn’t quite as pregnant as Francesca. She told them her name was Luisa.

  As in Luisa Cox, another of the missing women.

  She said that she was excited to meet them and that they were going to have a really amazing time here, and then left them.

  “Well,” said Reilly, “something weird’s going on here, but it doesn’t seem to be killing.”

  “At least not the women,” said Wren. “Of course, it’s par for the course for cult leaders to want to impregnate everyone.”

  “So, you think he’s killing the men and keeping the women here as like a harem or something?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know if we should eat the food, though. What if it’s drugged?”

  “Yeah, good point,” said Reilly. “Of course, we don’t want him to know we didn’t eat the food. What should we do with it?”

  “Flush it down the toilet?”

  He nodded.

  The food smelled really good, and it wasn’t easy disposing of it. They hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, and they were hungry.

  They didn’t want to flush the toilet too many times either, because that might raise suspicions. There was also a limit to how much food they could flush at a time.

  It took a while.

  In between, they paced in the room, talking about how they’d wait until late, and then they’d leave the room and go exploring.

  Time passed slowly.

  There was nothing in the rooms to entertain themselves with. No TV or source of entertainment. They had their cell phones, but they didn’t have chargers for their phones, so they didn’t want to use them too much.

  When there was another knock at the door, they still had a little bit of the food left that they hadn’t gotten down the toilet, but they simply told Luisa they’d eaten their fill and gave her their mostly empty dishes to take away.