The Ripper of Blossom Valley

by S D Christopher

  Arizona woulda been a mistake at this point. It'll still be there when I'm ready. But I gotta plan it out, figure out where to go, and set aside enough cash for when I’m between jobs. At least I still got that shitty office cleaning job here, for as long as that lasts. I realized my need of a plan about an hour south of the city, so I stopped, had some coffee, and turned back. I can't just leave outta anger. I gotta be sure I'm set up with some bread, my clothes, a few other things I hold dear on this rock, and maybe bring Jess along if I can convince her.

  I'm letting 'em sweat it out, though, staying at a cheap motel for awhile before I go back. Jess'll be happy to see me again. Lance, well, he might be scared for a bit still. But I'll smooth things over, tell 'em what they wanna hear. They're pretty gullible, easy to persuade. But at least I still got some family. For now.

  We'll do a couple old folks together after I get back, to show I'm a team player or whatever. Jess'll promise not to go all Ripper unless I say so, so I won't, and she'll behave, just being happy that I'm back. And Lance'll clean up perfect, cuz he basically just does what he's told. It'll be like the early days again, when it was simple, easy.

  Right now, though, I caught another whiff of a dame in distress, and this one's mine. Ain't no way I'm showing up at home now and giving dipshit a chance to fuck her after I leave, not this time. Maybe not ever again, unless she deserves it, and I give him the green light. No going rogue and doing it on his own. Some of 'em do deserve it, after all, the ones I can sense were just awful bitches. That'd be their final comeuppance in this world if they was evil. They get a boneheaded hick sticking his dick in their fresh corpses.

  It's almost funny how I can tell girls from guys now, just from the smell of death on 'em before I see 'em, like my sniffer's all refined and shit. I wonder if this is anything like those elitist losers and their wine. That shit's all the same to me, but they claim to be able to smell and taste all sortsa stuff in there, flowers, fruits, and whatnot. I bet it's all bullshit, all these "experts" just yanking each others' chains. Like they say, the king ain't got no damn clothes.

  I'm real close now. I pull my hog into the parking lot of a convenience store, outta sight of the security cameras. I'll walk the rest of the way, like usual. First, I pop into the store to get some smokes. The cashier recognizes me from some other time I been in here, and says hello, so I nod back. I get a good look at him, in case he ever rats on me. Note to self not to stop in here anymore. Don't need no one being able to describe me as being in the area when this shit goes down, case them damn stupid cops come around asking.

  Just for the cameras, I walk in the opposite direction of where I'm headed. I'll circle the block once I hit a street that just has houses. Lance may be the Cleanser or whatever the fuck he calls himself, but I'm pretty good at throwing them dumb pigs off my scent, even without him. We only done like five or six of them women they're pinning on us, but I've helped dozens of poor souls cross over since we got here, lots of 'em without the Wonder Twins, and ain't had so much as a visit from them dumbasses in blue. They ain't got no damn clue of how proliferous I been.

  As I turn the corner, my heart stops. Sirens, headed this way. Stay calm, Will, could be anything. I ain't done nothing yet. I keep casually walking down this quiet street, and find myself whistling. Is that what I do when I'm nervous? Weak.

  The sirens pass behind me and start to fade. I turn the corner again and pick up the pace. Before I reach the corner, I see the lights. The sirens have stopped, but I wouldn't miss the reflection of those spinning blue and red lights anywhere. They seem to be stopped around the block, so I slowly approach the corner, and casually peek down the street. Two cop cars, right near the house I was gonna hit. Fuck me, someone else got to her first.

  The smell of death is strong, but I can't just barge in there by myself and have any chance of taking care of her and getting outta there in one piece. Damnit! Who tipped off them fuckin' pigs? If I ever find out, I'll kill 'em outright. I curse under my breath, backtrack, hop on my hog, and get the hell outta dodge.

  That ain't never happened before, someone else finding her first. I can't explain it, but whenever I smell the death on 'em, they're always alone, so I'm always the first to show up. Maybe it's changing. Maybe I gotta be faster now. Maybe I'm picking up folks who ain’t alone. Well, that would complicate things, wouldn't it?

  It takes awhile for the smell to fade, but eventually, there's enough distance between me and her that it doesn't tug at me no more. Before too long, though, I pick up another. Male, this time, off to the left, maybe a mile or so. I turn at the next light and race towards him. Gotta feed the need.

  When I find him, he's alone, in his car. Good. I pass him and park the hog a couple blocks away. Walking back, I slip on my gloves and wonder why this one's by himself, but that last woman wasn't. I shake it outta my head as I approach his car.

  I open the passenger side door and slide in. He's unconscious, no blood, just kinda hunched over the wheel. Musta had a heart attack or something. I ease him back off the wheel, and he slumps backwards against the seat. His mouth's open, some dried drool on the right side of it. Eyes are closed, but he's definitely alive and clinging, alright. The smell is telling me he was an alright guy, and wants it to end quick. So I grab his head. The position is awkward, though. Can't do it from here.

  I look around, hop outta the car, and climb into the back seat. Better. I grab his head again, and snap, just like that, he's gone. The gym membership really is paying off. I pat him on the shoulder. "You're welcome, brother. Rest in peace." His pain is over, and I'm fulfilled.

  ----------

  "Well I'll be dipped in shit. You're back!"

  "You were dipped in shit that one time, remember?"

  "Aw, I don't even care ya gotta bring that up, cuz. That was the end o' my septic tank cleanin' days, tho, weren't it?"

  I raise my eyebrows. "You, uh...gonna let me in, Lance?"

  For just a moment, he stands, mouth hung open like usual, before he snaps out of it. "Oh, course, Will. Come on in. Jess is in her room." He leans in to whisper. "I, uh, dunno if you wanna knock just yet, tho. She been in a foul mood most of the time since you left."

  Huh, so she does miss me. Thanks, dipshit. "So, uh...how long I gotta wait, ya think? She gonna find out eventually." Lance just stands there, like it takes all his energy just to turn them little gears in his head. I pat him on the shoulder and walk to my room. I need to change outta these smelly clothes I been wearing every other day for weeks.

  He calls back to me as I head to my room. "Good call, cuz. A little while to settle in, I reckon." Forget the smelly clothes. I need a shower. The water pressure in that rat hole was shit.

  Ten minutes later, I push open the shower curtains, and something solid goes whizzing by my ear, and my head snaps up to see Jess following through. Before I can even react, she's in my face.

  "Fuck you, Willie Nelson!" I'm frozen, dumbfounded. Then she grabs my head and kisses me. What the hell? She pushes me away, and I almost slip inside the tub. Then, a slap. Hard.

  "Hey!"

  "Shut up, asshole!" She grabs my dick, squeezes hard at first, but then lets up a bit. She doesn't let go, though.

  "I done told ya he's prolly nekkid in there, sis."

  "Stay out of it, Lance! This is between me and fuckin' flat leaver here." She never loses eye contact, like she's staring into my soul, waiting to see what I'll do. I don't do anything.

  "You wanna tear it off? Punish me?"

  "Part of me wants to, yeah. Then there's a part of me wants to fuck you. Another part wants to bash yer head into that wall right there, end it all. And part of me wants to send ya packin' and tell ya to not come back ever again." Jesus, who can feel all those things at once? "Right now, it can go any one of them ways. I ain't decided yet."

  Choose yer words carefully, Will. "Well...I know which one he'd prefer. Let's just chill and not do anything we'll regret."

  She moves her hand from my cock to
my shoulder, pins me against the wall, grabs my arm with her other hand, and tugs, before I can even defend myself. Bitch is quick. "Regret, huh? Ya mean like makin' you my first male victim? Cuz I been thinkin', Will...that first week, I cried. Every. Damn. Night. That second week, it was like I felt nothin'. Then, I hated myself for missin' you as much as I hated you for leavin'. But lately? Lately...I been lookin' around, seein' Lance missin' ya too, and thinkin' 'bout why we even followed ya in the first place. We ain't yer sidekicks, yer backup, or yer minions. We're your family, Will. And family don't do that to each other."

  "I know. That's why I came back. I realized it, too. I just needed some time away, is all. It's like, ya don't know what ya got 'til it's gone. I missed ya, Jess...and...I'll kill ya if ya tell him, but I missed Lance, too. Y'all are all I got left in this forsaken world--"

  "Shut it! I don't wanna hear yer damn excuses or epiphanies!" She sounds mad as hell, but she lets go of my arm and shoulder, and has one hand back on my Johnson again. She uses the other to put up to her mouth and give me the international sign to shush. I really do not understand women. At all.

  She takes my hand in hers and directs it to her chest. Somehow, she wrestles me to the floor and straddles me, taking charge like she ain't never before. I heard of angry fuckin', but I never really knew what it meant til now. I gotta say, I'm a fan.

  It's cute seeing her cum and try to keep from screaming, or at least moaning, with Lance right outside. "Uh...everything ok in there?"

  Jess giggles, whispering, "Oh shit...yeah, brother, I'm just makin' sure Will knows how much we missed him, and that he better not leave us like that again." She squeezes her pussy muscles around my still rock hard member. God, that feels so damn amazing, like a vice grip. "Right, Will?"

  I look her in the eyes again, and she's still searching my soul. "Never again. I promise." I mean it, in the moment. Can't say how I'll feel tomorrow.

  That first week, we did a couple old folks together. Jess promised not to go all Ripper unless I said so, so I didn't, and she behaved. And Lance cleaned up perfect. It was like the early days again, when it was simple, easy. I'm home. For now.

  Act Three

  Chapter 21

  Frank

  Well, Lucy, I got some 'splaining to do. Not to the woman sitting in this hospital bed; the less she knows, the better. But to the other women here in the room with me, Maiko and Isabel. Ms. Gutierrez has some explaining to do, too, but something tells me she's just a little more innocent in all this than I am. Just a little.

  The woman in recovery is Kerry Watson, 23, single, lives alone, a beautiful blonde with a promising career in technical recruiting, and her whole life ahead of her. My conscience kept me from leaving her alone to possibly die. And by my conscience, I mean Maiko, with a little self-preservation thrown in for good measure. Of course, after Isabel showed up, too, we couldn't exactly just walk away. So I called for backup, and we got Ms. Watson to safety. I still don't know if the scumbag killer was on his way or not, since he hasn't reared his ugly head lately, but Ms. Gutierrez swears he was. How she knows this, I haven't quite figured out yet, but I have a suspicion.

  I planned to ask her what she knows and how, but she's clammed up from the moment I called it in. She's mostly been alternating between holding her head and clutching her stomach, claiming she's just not feeling well. When the squad cars showed up, she even doubled over, but seemed better once the sirens were turned off. Between that and her discomfort when she was down at the station a few months back, I'd say she's got some really sensitive ear holes. So that's her enhanced sense. Interesting. I haven't come across that one before.

  Her emotions are all over the place. I sense relief, despair, confusion, anger, and a whole host of other feelings, cycling quickly on a loop, like a fuckin' hamster wheel. She's making me dizzy. Heh, Dizzy Izzy.

  Maiko sits in a chair beside Ms. Watson, barely ever looking my way. I feel a full range of emotions from her too. She's angry at herself for being happy she's still alive. She's angry with me for making her happy and angry. She's worried about Ms. Watson, and doesn't know what to make of Dizzy Izzy. She probably thinks she's as crazy as Troy does. Troy. Shit. I still have no idea what I'm gonna tell him once he shows up.

  So here I stand, with two women pissed off at me, and a third one who would be if she was awake and knew the whole story. Thankfully, a doctor comes in to check on her, breaking the silence, which causes Izzy to cover her ears.

  "Lieutenant Foley...still here, I see. And our patient hasn't woken up yet?"

  I'm sure to whisper, to go easy on Izzy's ears. "Nah, she ain't come around yet. I wish she would, so I could find out if she has any description of the asshole who did this." This draws a sharp look from Maiko, while Izzy just holds her belly. "Doc, you got a second?"

  "For you, Lieutenant, always."

  We step outside, and I ask him about what was collected with the rape kit. He tells me there was no semen, which I expected. No chance this asshole was gonna slip up when he seems to have an unlimited supply of victims at his disposal.

  "We did collect some hairs and fibers that may not have been from the victim, though. We've sent it over to your forensics lab. They should be in touch."

  "Thanks, doc. I appreciate it." So at least there's hope that this scumbag left something behind. It occurred to me some time ago that if the killers cleaned up so well after themselves, they must also be inadvertently cleaning up after the rapist. Not this time.

  "Hey, I got here as fast as I could. What do we got?"

  I bring Troy up to speed on my version of events. I'm not ready to bring him into the loop on Dizzy Izzy and her gift. I'm not sure if he can handle the truth about people like us yet. And I sure as hell ain't filling him in on me and Maiko. So I tell him a version of the truth I think he'll buy.

  "So wait, you and Maiko...were out for a walk?"

  "Yeah, we do occasionally go out for fresh air. She started feeling better after I got home, so we went out for dinner, then walked around for a bit. That's when I noticed the door to this house was open. Guy must've left in too much of a hurry to even close it. We saw someone get in a car down the block and tear outta there, so I found it all a little suspicious. We didn't see him leave the house, but I put two and two together. So we went to the door and yelled in. I got no answer, so I made the call to go in, and that's when we found her."

  "Damn, Frank, the guys are right. You really do have some kind of Irish luck sometimes. Or a sixth sense." If you only knew, buddy.

  "Yeah. Too bad I couldn't have gotten there about a minute earlier, or stumble upon our fuckin' Ripper killers like that."

  We go back in the room to see if Ms. Watson's awake yet, but no dice. "Maiko looks pretty shook up," he whispers, waving to her. She nods back, then turns her attention back to Ms. Watson. Then Troy sees our extra special guest. "Wait, is that..."

  "Isabel Gutierrez, yes it is, Sergeant," I whisper, and can see the gears turning in his head. I interject before he can jump to his own conclusion. "Oddly enough, she showed up while we were there waiting for the ambulance."

  He keeps his voice down, too, though he's just following my lead. I doubt he knows the real reason why I’m whispering. "That can't be a coincidence. So this rape is connected to the others, this Asian guy we've been trying to track down?"

  "Could be, yeah. And I think Ms. Gutierrez has been tracking him too, somehow." This draws the incredulous look I expect. "I know it sounds crazy, but this is at least two times that she's been in the vicinity of this asshole...that we know of. She has to know something she didn't let on last time we talked to her. We need to find out what she knows. It just might help us catch this fucker. She seems to be after him, too. Maybe she can be of some help if we're careful with her."

  "I just assumed she was making it all up, looking for attention, maybe some mental issues."

  "I can hear you, ya know, vato. I ain’t mental." Yup, definitely enhanced hearing. Troy double takes, the
n looks sheepish.

  I lean into Troy and take it down to an even lower whisper, although she can probably hear this, too, so I'm careful with my words. "Why don't you take Isabel outside, grab a drink, let her clear her head. Try to find a quiet nook somewhere, and keep your voice down. I think loud sounds really bother her."

  He nods in understanding, maybe remembering her behavior back at the station. We turn around, and Izzy's already on her feet, smiling at me. "Thanks, Officer Frank," she whispers, still holding her head. "Come on, Officer Troy. I'll tell you everything I know about the gas man." I sure hope that doesn't include anything she overheard me and Maiko discussing while we were standing over Ms. Watson, but I'm betting Dizzy Izzy will come out with some shit that'll be too difficult for Troy to believe. I put a hand on her shoulder, as gentle and comforting as can be, as she walks by. She puts her hand on mine, and squeezes, and I know she’ll keep me and Maiko out of it. He raises an eyebrow as she walks off, and shoots me a skeptical look, mouthing the words "gas man?" I give him an encouraging shrug, and he walks out behind her.

  I turn to Maiko, but before I can even open my mouth, "Don't."

  Jesus, who's the empath here, me or you? "Don't what?"

  She refuses to turn and look me in the eyes. I guess I deserve that. "We're not having this conversation again. Not right now. I'm still pissed off at you." Whoa, "pissed off?” This is serious. Tread lightly, Foley.

  "You're right." I search for something to talk about that doesn't involve me bringing her back from the brink of death at the expense of another human being. "I'm sorry," is all I can think to say.

  "Frank." Her tone has changed, so I stop staring at my shoes and look to her. "I think she's starting to come around." Sure enough, Ms. Watson's head rocks a little from side to side.