Body Count

by Lisa D Jones

  The only people out on the street were the three of us and Howard Rhodes. Rhodes wasn’t talking much. He was busy falling from the roof of my office building, landing legs first not too far from us on the street.

  Once the initial shock wore off, we ran over to him. In my mind, there was no doubt that he was dead. His neck was visibly broken while his body was contorted in ways that weren’t humanly possible. And one of his shoes was missing.

  Then he spoke. It was soft and somewhat gurgled, but he spoke.

  “Hey Toots. Next time, why don’t you come to my office. Bad shit seems to happen when I come to yours”, he said softly as he winced in pain. His breathing was heavily labored and he struggled to get out his last words, “Toots, you know my killer.”

  “What? What do you mean I know your killer?? Who is it Howard?” I asked.

  “Rhodes, who did this to you?” asked Tucker.

  Howard Rhodes opened his mouth to speak again, but all that came out was his last breath.

  “Don’t you dare die on me now, you bastard. I will kill you if you die!” I screamed, but it was too late. He was gone.

  His clenched fist rested on the curb near his head. He was grasping a note intended for me: “Thanks for picking out my next victim for me, Toots. If you liked the show, you’ll love the encore. Don’t touch that dial and be sure to stay tuned! The next show is to die for”.

  Chapter 20:

  “SWAN DIVE:

  no talent required”

  When i looked up, Kelly was standing at the edge of the roof top, looking down. I’m not positive, but I could almost swear that he had a smile on his face. Our eyes met and his smile faded.

  Without a word, I sprang up, ran through my office, out the back door, and made my way up the fire escape, with Nate not far behind.

  When I got up to the roof, Kelly was squatting near the edge on the far side. At his feet was (what I assume to be) one of Howard’s shoes. Funny how I didn’t notice he was missing one when he landed on the street.

  I didn’t acknowledge that I had seen Kelly smile. I thought it best to keep that and my current suspicions to myself for now. After all, it could be nothing or it could be everything. He could just have a sadistic sense of humor. It might be a total coincidence that he was made it to the roof so fast and that there was no sign of anyone else.

  By the time me, Nate, and Kelly got back down to the street, Agent Loughlin had sectioned off and secured the scene. Rhodes’ body was covered with a pink sheet.

  “What’s with the pink sheet?” I asked.

  “And here it comes”, bitterly said Keith.

  “Remember not so long ago when I had that bad case of the flu? Well, genius over there didn’t separate the laundry like he’s supposed to do and washed my new red towels with the white linens”, replied Claudia in a huff.

  “I was trying to help, dammit.”

  “Anyway”, said Claudia, “instead of replacing them, I decided to torture him by buying a lot more pink things for our bedroom. He has no choice but to see it, sleep in it, and wake up to it every single day.”

  “Unless I sleep on the couch”, said Keith with a high amount of sarcasm.

  “Or unless I kick your ass out”, yelled Claudia with her hands on her hips. Her tolerance for him seemed a bit low today.

  “Can we put our attention back on the dead guy, please? Thank you!” snarled Keith.

  “That’s probably for the best”, I said. “There’s already been one death here today. Let’s not make it two … or……three.”

  “The coroner is on his way”, said Nate as he slapped his ridiculously outdated flip phone shut. “Don’t touch anything until he clears it.”

  “Nate, are you ever going to upgrade that phone of yours?” asked Keith.

  “Why should I? All I do is talk on it and I don’t even like to do that half the time. I have no need for all that computer bullshit. It’s a PHONE for crying out loud”, barked Nate.

  I leaned in Keith’s general direction and asked him if he was sorry yet that he got out of bed this morning. He replied with a simple grunt and a not-so-happy glance that he directed towards Claudia. It looked like the feeling was mutual. I scooted sideways away from them as subtly as I could. I was afraid that their teeth would start gnashing and their sharpened talons would be flying about at any given moment.

  I guess I must have looked ridiculous because my movements managed to get a chuckle out of Agent Loughlin. He’s the one person I never thought I would see smile, let alone laugh out loud. I’m betting in high school he was voted least likely to show amusement. If only they could see him now!

  “I’m going to go up and secure the roof”, said Agent Loughlin. “Rookie, you stay here and keep the dead guy company.”

  ”I’ll join you”, I said. “I’ve had all the carnage I can stand for today”. The roof top sounded much better for the time being anyway, assuming the person that killed Rhodes wasn’t still up there.

  There were smudges all over the railing, the door, and both sides of the door knob, but there were no clean prints anywhere on the roof top.

  I realized that there was something missing: Howard’s shoe. I glanced around, but I didn’t see it. Except for Kelly here on the roof top, I couldn’t recall seeing anyone with it.

  “Looks like this may have been a waste of our time”, said Agent Loughlin. “Just to be on the safe side, we will give it all a more thorough look then head back downstairs.”

  “Agent Loughlin”, I said. “There was a shoe. I saw Deputy O’Banion squatting next to it when I came up to the roof the first time around.”

  “Well, it’s obviously not here now. I’ll make sure to ask him about it when we get back downstairs”, said Loughlin. “In the meantime, let’s you and I make sure there’s nothing else up here to find.”

  Chapter 21:

  “If the shoe fits”

  THE NEXT DAY, all I could think about was that damn shoe. When Loughlin asked Kelly about it, he denied ever seeing a shoe at all, much less squatting next to it. The son of a bitch even has Nate convinced that it was never there and that he and I must have imagined the whole thing.

  The shoe wasn’t logged in or recorded as evidence. It wasn’t on the roof or on the ground below. It was nowhere to be found, but I know it had to be somewhere.

  I wanted to tell everyone (especially Nate) about Kelly smiling over the edge of the roof top when he saw Howard Rhodes lying mangled on the street below, but I didn’t. I doubt that anyone would believe it right now, anyway, since I can’t prove it.

  I know in my heart that he’s lying. I have to figure out why and get the proof on my own before I open my big mouth about it. Deputy Kelly O’Banion is hiding something and if it’s the last thing I do (and it just may be) I will find out exactly what it is.

  I did my damnedest not to make eye contact with Kelly. I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to hold back and control the sarcasm and yet unproven accusations that would come flying out of my mouth like deadly little ninja stars.

  Rhodes was annoying as hell, but I didn’t want him to die. Well, I guess that’s not entirely true. I didn’t want him dead unless I got to be the one to kill his obnoxious, irritating, sorry son of a bitch ass, but that’s another thought process altogether.

  I wanted to run. I wanted to put as many miles between Deputy Kelly O’Banion and myself as fast as I possibly could, but running wasn’t an option just yet. I was going to have to stay close to Kelly, even though I didn’t want to. They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. If I was going to find out what he was up to, I wasn’t going to be able to let him out of my sight.

  Me, Keith, Claudia, Jessica, Wendy, and Rick had spent the night in the drunk tank for our own protection. We all agreed that was probably the safest place we could be, as long as we stayed together.

  We had work to do, so it didn’t take more than a small amount of encouragement to get Kelly and Tucker to escort the six of us to my office.
It took even less to talk them into staying there to protect us. So far, so good with the ‘keep a close eye on Kelly’ plan.

  Agent Loughlin opted not to join us for the time being. He was off doing some investigating of his own, leaving Agent Barstow behind nearby in an unmarked car. He wanted to keep an extra eye on us, which I’m thankful for. As far as I’m concerned, you can never have too much law enforcement around when you’re being stalked by a murderous psychotic bastard who keeps leaving you daisies and a trail of dead bodies.

  I went into my office and locked the door behind me. I was there for less than a minute when Keith pressed his face on the glass next to my door. He almost looked like a puffer fish, but not quite as attractive. So much for peace and quiet.

  “What?” I asked as I opened the door.

  “Nothing. I just wanted to annoy you.”

  “Congratulations on a job well done then. Now get back to work. I’m not paying you to annoy the shit out of me.”

  “Yes you are!” laughed Keith. “You just didn’t realize it when you hired me”. While still laughing, Keith snapped to attention in military fashion. “Yes Ma’am! I’ll get to work right away, Ma’am!”

  I shook my head and sighed.

  “You’re really an asshole sometimes.”

  “That’s Mr. Asshole to you”, said Keith as he shut the door behind him.

  Sometimes, he truly annoys me, but the truth is I’d never make it without him and Claudia. I think of them as friends, although I don’t know if I’d ever really tell them that. I’m pretty sure I’d never hear the end of it if I did.

  My office phone buzzed. It was Claudia.

  “Nate’s here”, said Claudia through the muffled sound of the old office phone. I really need to replace that old crap. Get with the times, Savannah.

  “Send him in”, I said.

  Nate came in holding a box of donuts from Babe’s and enough coffee to keep all of us going for the rest of the afternoon.

  “I thought you could use this. I know damn well I need it.”

  I thanked him, tilted the cup back so I could get all that caffeinated goodness then damn near spewed it out all over my desk.

  “Holy shit, Nate! What the hell? You could have warned me.”

  Nate just laughed and said everyone should have a shot or two of whiskey with their coffee in the morning. I nodded in agreement and took another drink – a bigger one this time.

  “Damn that’s good coffee”, I sighed. “Nate, where are we really at on things? Are we any closer to finding this psycho?”

  Nate sat back and softly shook his head.

  “No. It just seems like we just keep going in circles and chasing our own tails. One step forward, two steps back. Know what I mean?”

  I nodded.

  “I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing something. I mean, we have to be missing something don’t we? Or we’d know who’s doing all this bullshit and put a stop to it.”

  I nodded again, but this time it was more like I was agreeing with my own thoughts and not really hearing his words.

  “Nate, where’s Kelly?”

  “He’s up on the roof taking another look. Why?”

  I glanced towards the doorway.

  “I think there’s something you should know”, I said and proceeded to tell him about Deputy Kelly O’Banion’s rooftop smile and how he just seemed to be there every time something went wrong for me – or when we found out about another corpse.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this shit when it happened?”

  “Because I wanted to be sure before I said anything. Hell, I’m not even sure now, but I figure it’s better to be safe than dead.”

  I heard my phone go off telling me I had a text message. Keith thought it would be cute to record a personal message for me, so whenever I get a text, my phone screams like a goat. Phone calls are worse – the “ring tone” he made is a shrill woman’s voice screaming, “Answer the damn phone, Savannah! Right now. I said right NOW! I KNOW you can hear this”. That’s not even the worst part! I’ve changed it several times to something FAR less irritating, but he keeps changing it back - without ever touching my phone. Sometimes it is REALLY annoying to have a computer guru in my employ.

  The text was from an unknown number, which wasn’t the least bit surprising. Most potential clients don’t want me to know who they are until they actually hire me, or when they meet with me to discuss their case in detail, whichever comes first. It was a photo with a two-word caption: For Savannah.

  I clicked to open the file and my heart skipped a few beats. Thankfully, all that ended up showing was part of a very bloody hand, but that was enough. I don’t think I could’ve stomached much more. I ran over to Keith and practically threw the phone at him.

  “Please, PLEASE tell me you can figure out who the sick bastard is that sent this”, I said.

  “Hold up”, said Nate. “Let me see that.”

  Keith showed him the photo as requested. Nate nodded and asked Keith to get to work on it.

  I started to tremble. I wanted to get this son of a bitch but at the same time I wanted to run off and bury my head in the sand like an overgrown ostrich…or just sit on a beach somewhere with a pitcher of strawberry margaritas. I knew neither one was an option at the moment, of course, but the feelings were there just the same. Instead, I decided to guzzle down the rest of my whiskey and coffee – right about the time that I heard another goat scream.

  I froze for a few seconds and not-so-calmly asked Keith what the message was. I relaxed as soon as he said it was from a client, Earl T Wallace. He sent a text asking for the status on his case: finding the muscle car he had in high school.

  I let out a sigh of relief. I took my phone back from him, texted back that we are working diligently on his case, currently waiting for a records request from the state on the VIN (vehicle identification number) then set the phone back down on my desk.

  “I can’t take this anymore. Sitting still and doing nothing. This shit’s killing me!” exclaimed Keith.

  “Well the alternative of staying here in seclusion is going outside and possibly being murdered and that just doesn’t particularly appeal to me. Six of one, half a dozen of the other”, I said.

  “So, what are our options?” asked Claudia, completely ignoring my witty comments.

  “I say we go on the offensive”, said Nate. “Draw that psychotic ass hat away from his fox hole and out into the open.”

  “Sounds like you may already have a plan in mind”, I said.

  Nate smiled with that crooked, half smirk/half serious look.

  “That I do.”

  “Okay”, I said. “Then let’s get this lunatic son of a bitch and end this bullshit once and for all.”

  Chapter 22:

  “CHEESE AND A LITTLE WHINING”

  NATE’S PLAN was simple: use me as bait. Everyone except me seemed to be perfectly okay with this idea. Go figure.

  It’s just as well, I guess. I’ve grown a bit weary of being cooped up all the time. Besides, I’m kind of used to being on the receiving end of a psycho’s lack of anger management skills.

  “You ready for this?” asked Nate.

  “Ready as I’m going to be, I guess”, I said. “You know…just once I’d like to be the cat chasing the mouse instead of the fucking cheese.”

  So far, my stalker had stayed more than one step ahead of us. That had to change and it had to change right now. The only way I knew for sure that we could make that happen was to keep all of the details of our plan quiet.

  Nate insisted on radio and telephone silence, unless absolutely necessary. Even then we’d be speaking in code, of sorts. Mostly we were just playing it by ear, hoping and praying that this shit actually worked.

  I had one gun on my hip, one at the small of my back, another on my ankle, a sheathed knife with a six-inch serrated blade on my calf, my taser on my hip, and a canister of pepper spray in my front pocket. Might sound like I was overdoing it, but jus
t in case anyone got the better of me, I wanted options. I was as ready as anyone who was trying to bring their psycho stalker out into the light of day could possibly be.

  The main idea was to get my stalker’s undivided attention. He or she was watching me, this much we knew. We also knew that he/she wouldn’t do anything with witnesses standing right next to me. My stalker seemed to have a preference for privacy and anonymity, as sadistic bastards usually do.

  The only option was for us to split up. My stalker would know it was a trap if we didn’t, so there really wasn’t another choice. We couldn’t make it too overly obvious what we were really doing, so we decided to do the next best thing: stage a fake knock down drag out fight in the middle of the street so I could storm off of my own. Keith rigged up a teeny tiny tracking device small enough to fit in my pocket, just in case.

  It’s not like it would have been the first time that happened. People in general irritate the hell out of me, so it wouldn’t be the least bit surprising to anyone that’s ever met me if I were to stomp off cussing like a sailor. I’ve also been known to hurl projectiles in the general direction of the idiots that annoyed me, on occasion.

  We decided the best place to pull this off would be at ground zero: my office. Most likely, that’s where that psycho fucktard would look for me first.

  Nate, Tucker, and Kelly kept their distance as promised. Keith,

  Claudia, and I went into my office as usual. We pretended to work for a little while. When the time was right, we put the plan into action.

  I jumped up from my desk and started yelling at Keith. He, apparently, hates that, so he started screaming back. I’m not sure if he meant most of what he said, but anything’s possible. Personally, I was just making shit up as I went along, which is pretty much exactly what I would normally do.

  I was yelling at him about wasting my time and money when he wasn’t producing any results. I accused him of spending all his time with Claudia in his lap instead of doing the job he was being paid to do. Of course, I didn’t mean a word of it. I couldn’t possibly do all of the work that fucker does for me. I know how valuable he is as an employee, but I’d never tell him. I have far too much stubborn, bullshit-kind-of-pride to do something like that.