We all got into the Daniel’s car and drove off in anticipation. Where did the monster live? What we found pleased us—it was located on a rural road out of Oregon City. It was the kind of place you could raise chickens of you wanted to. And the nearest house had an obstructed view due to the many scrub oaks. This was the kind of place people would be expected to keep to themselves—there was a neighborhood watch sign but it looked as though local kids had abused it for target practice. In a way it was so fitting that the little yellow house with the unkempt yard was the home of our killer.
Daniel asked, “So, do you think it will be as easy to get this guy as it was our friend last week?” Nicole sat sideways in the front seat and commented, “Not sure, I mean it could be as easy as walking up to his doorstep and claiming you need help with your car and that you need a lift.” I detected sarcasm in her voice, more than usual, so I laughed and responded, “Why not—I could even hand him a roll of tape as payment!” We all laughed.
Daniel drove past a second time and then stated, “There’s a couple of things we might have to consider with this—I mean, once we take this guy out we may have to scale back activities for a while. The police may have more time to investigate possible missing persons, once bodies of dead women stop turning up anymore.”
He continued, “We also need to check out what he has in his house once we have him. We can’t afford to leave traces of anything, if you know what I mean.” We must have looked puzzled because then he looked frustrated and said, “Okay, somewhere in his house there are things that can link him to the killings. We need that evidence so when they come by and check his house when he’s reported missing, they won’t discover he’s the serial killer—which means they will continue wasting time looking for the perpetrator.”
That sounded logical. Kill the killer, hide the evidence, and nobody knows he’s not around anymore. Whatever clues the police have will keep them on a trail that will not involve us.
The consensus was that we would catch him off guard and then use some creative means to do him in. That would require more planning though, and we wanted Mark involved, so we put our plans on hold and decided to enjoy the rest of the day—skating at the mall was the obvious choice. After that we all headed back home—I felt a sense of anticipation regarding Reid but I also felt anxious over Mark and Cindy. I just could not get it out of my mind.
When I got home my mom asked what I had been up to all weekend. I re-assured her that it was packed with bike riding, skating, and hiki—lots of good, wholesome activities. It was actually the truth. I checked the computer, sighed at the lack of mail, and sat down to math. It was hard to believe school was the next day.
Monday and Tuesday were weird because Mark, Cindy and several other teachers were out due to planning work. There were a lot of films those days offered by substitute teachers. At least I was able to skip classes and catch up on work.
On Wednesday I went to Mark’s classroom before school. He greeted me and seemed overjoyed to see me. We would meet at his house later that day but Mark broke one of our rules and shared with me some of the findings of his research, and I told him about our Sunday drive. Then he said something strange, “Melanie, yesterday the police found the body of a woman on an isolated logging road.” I hesitated, thinking about if it was the woman I had killed or if it were the one we saw Friday. Mark continued, “She was probably a victim of the guy you saw Friday—she had been reported missing Monday as she had been scheduled to speak at her church youth group the night before…so it is likely that she was killed early Sunday.” That must have been the reason his house was deserted and his car was gone—as we scoped out his house he was somewhere killing this girl. “We have to get this guy soon!” I stated to which Mark nodded and said,“Yeah.”
That afternoon we all met at Mark’s and went into his living room. He brought out a pile of books from his desk and laid them out on the coffee table. There were sections marked about body part removal and even something about a guy who killed his victims by driving a nail through their throat. We concluded that Mark had been right in his speculation about symbolic motives so we hoped that Reid was also as sloppy and not-too-bright as Mark believed.
The question came up as to when we should plan on meeting up with our target. Then we could develop our strategy. We decided two weeks was ideal since there was a chance of snow this week at low elevations, and so if we wanted to go off into the mountains we didn’t want to have a wreck. So surprise! It would be a normal weekend.
Mark said he would get some snacks in the kitchen and we could plan out our strategy. I decided to go in with him. I looked at him from the other side of the table and then I asked how his planning days had been. He shrugged his shoulders and said they were okay—so I interpreted his lack of enthusiasm to indicate that he did not have much fun. I secretly hoped that he had not enjoyed the company either.
We all sat down and talked about a strategy if the weather was permitting the following week. We decided we had to go early in case he might be planning on going out for a kill. Then we had to have a way to lure him out of his house and have him off guard so we could catch him without any risk to ourselves.
One original idea was to use Nicole as bait—she could lure him out when she asked for a ride since her car had broken down. The problem with this idea was that if anything went wrong he might drag her into the house and then he might have a weapon to use against her or us. The other idea, proposed by Mark, was to just drive up and pretend to be police wanting to ask him some questions. We thought this sounded better, as Mark and Daniel could pass as police investigators, and before he realized the reality of the situation Reid would be ours. The problem with this idea was that they had to be convincing, but Daniel assured us that he could create any papers or fake badges to trick him. The problem was that if he resisted to the point of having to shoot him then the police would find their murderer and that was not what we had in mind—especially since they would be looking for his executioner as well. Mark and Daniel had to make their plan work.
So it was decided that the police ploy would be best. Then Daniel said he could leave the car where it would be stolen. Daniel then turned to Nicole and I and asked if we would like to come up with his execution. Nicole smiled and rested on me—she warned that leaving us in charge could get real messy. Mark asked what could top our friend in the mountains. I then whispered an idea to Nicole to which she excused herself for a moment to go over to Mark’s encyclopedias. She read a section, put it back, and assured Mark and Daniel that they would not be disappointed—but that they might even feel sorry for the guy. Mark seemed amused in imagining what the plan would be.
Daniel brought us back to planning for the abduction. If a simple capture didn’t work the taser and knock-out drug would be needed. However, Daniel pointed out he would need some time to explore the house for evidence. He didn’t want to knock him out since he believed he would tell us where the goods were. Daniel seemed almost obsessed with getting his hands on evidence.
Mark pointed out that it would have to be done the week we planned even if the weather turned bad. The following weekend would be Thanksgiving so he might be away visiting someone. Fortunately, there were no tournament obligations for Mark until January and so we could coordinate everything quite flexibly.
So it was set—this weekend Mark was to visit his kids and the rest of us could go have our fun. The following week was our time to make sure Reid’s activities were put to an end.
I had planned on using the time before our encounter with Reid to get ahead in studies, On Thursday, however, Cindy acted more odd than usual. She started asking questions about Mark again—but instead of the kind of questions one might expect from an interested woman she started asking about Mark’s fascination with serial murderers (what struck me as odd was that she actually used the term “obsession”). What was she fishing for was all I could ask myself. When I said he seemed fascinated because he taught psychology (duh!) she s
eemed a bit nervous. I decided to probe her a bit, not a hard task if she was my objective, but then an announcement came across the intercom for her to come to the office—some parent had an important question I guess. Class was almost over so I left before she returned.
Nicole sent me a text during Lamb’s class to meet her over at Mark’s at 7pm. It seemed that they wanted to finalize everything and that brought me feelings of excitement. Why was I getting more anxious every time we undertook our missions? Then Lamb, of all teachers, caught my attention when he started talking about war crimes and used the term “guilt.” Now I had two thought patterns going on at once—again, not uncommon for me. One was trying to examine the rush I was getting with our activities and the second was wondering about guilt—or should I say the lack of it?
I never really understood “guilt” in the first place. So what struck me as really odd was when Lamb talked about it in reference to collective guilt over the actions of one’s government or army. That was even more confusing. Sure, I had done things that I wished I could undo. However, that seemed to have more to do with causing something that I had not intended to happen. I really never felt guilt, or some sort of pain, for doing things that people often said they felt guilty for. Maybe what I did feel was sorrow for feeling inadequate in some situation, but had I ever felt sorry for any alleged pain I might have caused someone? I cannot say I did. And now I had someone telling me I should feel guilty for something the country I live in might have done? If I did not feel guilt for something I did to someone one-on-one why should I feel guilty for something some president did decades before my birth? And then I considered the fact that I had personally killed a man and a woman and assisted in the killing of another man—and was planning something grizzly for a guy the next weekend. Yet I did not feel bad at all. Did that make me cold? How can I tell since I have never tasted of the concept of guilt?
I remembered having once tuned in to some religious broadcast where the speaker said the first step to repentance of sin was to feel guilt in your heart. Yet I did not feel I led a particularly sinful life—I did not sleep around or even use alcohol, what was the point? I avoided these things due to them hampering some aspect of my life vision. The alcohol was particularly dangerous as I never wanted to lose control of my thought patterns. So here I was, someone who fit the standards of a fundamentalist yet doing so for personal reasons, not something based on fear of committing sin.
Then there was the self-examination I conducted simultaneously trying to figure out my impatience with taking out Mr. Reid. Was it due to my wanting to save someone who, in my ideal world, was superior to the average mobs of people out there? Or was it my desire to see his face when he realized his fate? I seriously could not tell. Yet here it was, when I killed the young woman in the woods I was a bit nervous; with the pimp I was just worried about the cops; with the bully all I could think about was how odd it was that I laughed about it—and now I was looking forward to this more than making it to state finals for debate. I guessed this was just how my life was evolving—with part of me perhaps worried over what I might evolve into—and another part looking forward to it.
I later drove over to Mark’s for our impromptu meeting. Mark and Daniel brought in a box and dumped it on the table—two high quality fake police badges, two old wallets (not stylish, just official looking), a pair of handcuffs, a police car light that unmarked cars use, and a paper that looked like an official search warrant. Daniel explained that he and Nicole skipped school that day and did some the work. It was impressive. Daniel had even had a haircut which made him look more mature—important for the plan.
Mark went into details like we really were cops getting ready for a big bust, “Okay everyone, let’s not get too carried away…this guy is dangerous and we can’t afford any mess ups. Yes, we can have some dramatic license here but remember, if we fail one of us…maybe all of us, could wind up dead and I won’t have that!” When he said that he looked directly at me like he cared especially for me…I nodded. He continued, “So here’s the plan then—We all take off Friday morning early before he decides to leave his home I hope. I will call in sick and you will as well. Since he lives in an isolated location I doubt any neighbors will take notice. Now remember, he has no reason to believe he’s a suspect and so there’s where surprise can be our advantage. I checked public records and he lives alone. We basically ‘arrest’ him and before he figures out what’s up he’ll be immobilized—and if he isn’t cooperative this little hand taser will work wonders.” I had known of the larger taser but this was a tiny model that you had to touch the person with.
I had to ask, “Mark, what if he resists before you cuff him, you might get killed!” When I said that Daniel gave me a look that suggested he was thinking “What about me?” Mark insisted that would not happen. Daniel would have Nicole’s gun and Mark would have the one he showed us—one that looked almost identical to Nicole’s. The worse that would happen is that they would have to shoot him dead and we would have to take off. And even that was covered as they would cut out duct tape and alter the numbers of Mark’s license plates with some careful pasting while in Reid’s home area—just in case a neighbor did suspect something and got our license number.
The nice thing was that Mark’s car resembled a typical unmarked car used in the Portland area—a conservative, large, four door American-made sedan. Perhaps they could trick Reid after all and get him into the car without trouble. So the plan was set—we arrive at his house Friday at 8:30am and hope for success. He would probably just be getting up as Daniel had found that he worked the swing shift at the supermarket near the campus area. Daniel had called the store and posed as a friend to make sure he had Friday off. Since he also had Saturday off he would not be missed for a couple of days we hoped. As for family we assumed there would be no get-togethers before Thanksgiving if he did have connections with anyone.
Then Nicole jumped up, “Hey Melanie, do you want to share your ideas with the rest of us for how Mr. Reid leaves this life?” Daniel then said, “I know you are creative Melanie…we know a place you can act out your fantasies; I mean the location is so remote that you could do anything and not get caught.” I said I didn’t want to share yet but Mark said we had to be more prepared for this one. So I let it out, “Okay, let’s combine Mr. Ortega’s fetal pig dissension unit with some of the experiments done at the Japanese experimentation center Unit 731.” Mark seemed impressed while Daniel had to ask Nicole what I was talking about. Mark said that would require a few more items as well as some powerful pain killer. Daniel assured us he could make something up. Mark then said that it would be messy but the disposal of the body would not be too difficult if we were going to do what he thought I was talking about. I tried to tease him a bit and said that while it might be cold he should remember that we needed to avoid having a pile of clothing with blood all over them, so he might reconsider his shyness. He seemed a bit uncomfortable but probably realized I was right.
We would fine-tune our plans in the days to come. Mark spent the weekend with his kids and for the most part this was the kind of weekend that most teenagers experience. It was pleasant but there was still the excitement in my mind for our future activity. I wondered if this was akin to when British aristocrats went out in the jungle to hunt tigers—the tiger would most certainly be the one that died but not always. Someone was going to die the next week, but I was not of the belief it would be one of us.
The weekend passed, and then the week. I was totally psyched for this and when Thursday came I was anxious, knowing that the next day would be the day. Would our efforts save lives though? I was certain of that. The only thing that disturbed me was Cindy meeting me in the library that morning and asking if I was still spending time with Mark. I said I did occasionally and then she left without an explanation. Was she seeing something I wasn’t? Maybe I was just getting paranoid.
Chapter 20
It was not a particularly cold day on Friday, just gray as
usual for that time of year. Nicole picked me up early as if we were going to school, but we headed over to her house. We then took the bus to Mark’s, so our cars would not be seen parked all day, or even all weekend, long.
Nicole said that Mark and Daniel had everything prepared, and then asked if I was ready for this. I assured her I was and she said, “Oh, I’m sure you have thought out quite an impressive event for our target, my sweet little friend.”
When we met up with Mark he went over everything one more time. Daniel and Mark would trick the guy into thinking he was going to be questioned, we would wait in the car, and then Daniel would check the house. Then it would be a long drive to a location Mark had found quite some time earlier on one of his long nature excursions. Nothing really could go wrong we thought. Daniel had driven by his house several times and there was no sign of anyone living there but Reid—he appeared to be the perfect stereotype of a serial killer, alone and isolated. Little did he realize what was in store for his little world. The only thing we were worried about was that he might have left before we arrived. My anxiety levels would be high until I knew we had him in our “care.”
One might expect us to be nervous, but that was not the case. We were anxious to see if everything would go as plan. Of course I, for one, was excited to get to work on Reid. Once we arrived to his house, and pulled into the driveway—the time for excitement had arrived.
Mark and Daniel were dressed in Hollywood-style “FBI” attire—Mark had a stylish black overcoat while Nicole had done a slight makeover on Daniel to make him look more mature for the role. They exited the car and we crouched down as much as possible, yet still able to witness events. Sure enough, when they knocked on the door the man we had seen in the woods answered. We were not sure of what was being said but then they all went into the house. Nicole said she would like to be in there right then but we both decided to follow the original plan.
Melanie's Journey Page 22
