“Brad had to visit his father, and you shouldn’t try to play matchmaker, Mom.”
“Bring him by soon anyway; we’ll get a good meal in him.”
“I’ll mention it to him,” Erica said, as she looked around the restaurant. The place was packed and there were several couples sitting in the area set aside for those waiting for a table. Erica followed her mother down a short corridor and into the kitchen. As they walked toward the office at the back, Erica said hello to several of the long-time employees she knew. Two of which she’d first met while still in high school.
Erica’s mother had opened the restaurant fourteen years earlier. Erica had worked there while in high school and during college. After the first three lean years, Carlotta’s had been a success ever since.
As she was about to enter the office behind her mother, Erica saw a sight that disturbed her. It was a new employee. The man turned his head to stare in her direction while he was washing dishes. Erica spied the teardrop tattoo under his left eye and stiffened with concern.
While a teardrop tattoo could have other meanings, it was also a prison tat that signified the wearer was a murderer. The man was muscular, six-feet tall, and good-looking with a sensuous mouth. He turned away before his stare could be considered rude.
After entering the office, Erica greeted her sister, Cassie. Cassie was three years older than Erica, married, and the mother of two children. Cassie favored Erica, but her hair was dark and worn longer.
The office contained a wooden desk, filing cabinets, and a table and chairs set that could seat four. It was where Carlotta and Cassie ate their meals, and where Erica dined whenever she visited alone. After Carlotta went off to fetch food for the three of them, Erica asked her sister about the dishwasher.
“That’s Angel Alvarez, he’s new,” Cassie said.
“Do you understand what that tattoo by his eye means?”
Cassie sighed. “Yes, Special Agent Novac, Alvarez is an ex-con. You know Mom hires them through that program at her church.”
“I understand that, but I’m worried that the man might have been in for murder.”
“He was. Angel killed someone during a fight. He served five years of a ten-year sentence and was released on parole recently.”
“What is he like?”
“He’s quiet and keeps to himself. He’s also a hard worker. Angel is willing to take as many hours as we can give him.”
“I know Mom believes in giving second chances, I just wish she hadn’t hired a murderer.”
“I’m not crazy about it either, but Mom’s priest, Father Vicenti, he vouched for the man personally. I will say so far that I have no complaints.”
“I hope you don’t regret hiring him later on. But tell me, what’s new with you?”
“Your nephew is being a brat lately.”
Erica smiled. “Why is he my nephew when he’s misbehaving but your son when he’s good?”
“Because he inherited your stubborn gene and my sweetness gene.”
“Speaking of sweetness, how is Becca doing?”
“My daughter is great, and she asked about you the other day. You need to come hang out with us someday soon, and Mike has a friend you would like.”
“You’re as bad as Mom, but I don’t need a matchmaker.”
“Have you dated anyone since Steve left?”
“No, and I’ve been too busy to think about it.”
Cassie made a face, as if she were expecting to be criticized for her next words.
“I was glad when you broke up with Steve.”
“Why would you say that? I thought you liked Steve.”
“He was great, but you two weren’t right together. You’re both workaholics who travel a lot. You barely saw each other while you were dating. What kind of marriage would you have had?”
“Steve said something similar. I think he wants a woman who will be home when he gets there. With my job, I never know when I’ll have to fly off to visit a crime scene.”
Cassie opened her mouth to say something else, then decided against it. Erica noticed.
“What were you going to say?”
“I was about to make an observation.”
“Which is?”
“There was another reason you broke up with Steve, although you might not know it.”
“What reason is that?”
“He was too nice, too… normal. I know you, Erica; you’ve always been attracted to the bad boys.”
Erica laughed. “Maybe when I was in high school, but I’m an FBI agent now. I put the bad boys in prison.”
“Deny it if you want, but I know what attracts you, little sister; you also want someone to save, someone with a wound you can help to heal.”
Erica lowered her gaze as she said, “We’re all wounded in some way.”
“You’ll find the right guy someday, until then, play the field a little.”
“I dated a lot in college and didn’t like it. I want someone in my life who will stay there, someone I can count on.”
“We all want that, but until Mr. Right comes along, have fun. I enjoy my work too, but you need to take some down time now and then.”
Carlotta returned with a tray of food and sat it on the table. When Erica inhaled the aroma of shrimp scampi her mouth began to water. The conversation between the three women was light-hearted as they ate their meals, but Erica’s mind was somewhere else.
She was thinking about the three bizarre murders she was investigating, while wondering about the man who carried them out. He would kill again. Erica was sure of it, and equally certain that the death would take place in some unique way. This killer also enjoyed his work, and he had to be stopped.
* * *
At a point in the evening when she was alone in the office, Erica looked through one of the filing cabinets. Her sister kept everything concerning the business in cloud storage, but Cassie always printed out hard copies as well. Erica found Angel Alvarez’s home address and drove there after leaving the restaurant.
* * *
Alvarez appeared over an hour later after stepping off a bus that stopped at the corner. Angel Alvarez was living in a home in the community of Glover Park. The Georgian-style house was something that no dishwasher’s salary could afford.
Cassie had written a notation in Alvarez’s file that he was staying with his brother. Erica didn’t know what the brother did for a living but knew he must be raking it in. Homes in the area were often worth more than a million dollars. It was decent of Alvarez’s brother to offer his paroled sibling a place to live.
Angel Alvarez moved along the sidewalk with the grace of a panther. His eyes darted in all directions as he scanned for threats. After spending the last five years in prison, he was always on watch for trouble.
He’d spotted Erica sitting in her car before she rolled her window down and flashed her badge.
“Get in the car, Alvarez.”
A look of irritation flashed across Alvarez’s handsome face. After a slight hesitation, he did as he was told and climbed inside the vehicle.
“You’re Carlotta’s other daughter,” Alvarez said. “I heard you were some kind of cop.”
“I’m a special agent with the FBI. I wanted you to know that.”
“Why?” Alvarez asked, but he wasn’t looking at Erica. In prison, you learned not to look authority figures in the eye, in case they took offense. He did steal a glance at Erica’s shapely legs; she was wearing a skirt that had risen above her knees.
“I don’t have a problem with you, Alvarez, and I’m glad you’re getting a second chance. Just know that if you do anything to hurt my mother or sister there will be holy hell to pay. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes.”
“Good, and don’t mention this conversation to anyone.”
“I understand,” Alvarez said. “May I leave now?”
“You have a good night.”
Alvarez risked meeting Erica’s gaze before climbing out of
the car. Now that she was close to him and getting a good look at the teardrop tattoo, she noticed something. The tattoo was faded around the edges and not as pronounced as she had thought.
Erica pointed at her own eye as she asked Alvarez a question.
“Are you in the process of having that tattoo removed?”
Alvarez nodded.
“That’s a smart move.”
“I thought so,” Alvarez said, as his eyes took in her legs again.
“Don’t let my mother down; she’s sticking her neck out by letting you work in the restaurant.”
“I know that, and I like your mother.”
“Goodnight again,” Erica said.
Alvarez left the car and shut the door firmly. Erica watched him go while staring at his ass. It had been weeks since she’d been with anyone and, paroled felon or not, Alvarez was a sexy man.
Erica waited until Alvarez disappeared into the home, then she started her engine and drove to her apartment. As she did so, she thought about her latest target, the man who killed in such a wild fashion. Erica wondered when he would kill again.
Chapter Four
COCOA BEACH, FLORIDA
Rudy Brenner jumped in his chair as his phone chimed. The device was signaling that it was time for Rudy to make his rounds. Rudy had been reading a horror novel that was giving him the creeps; however, the book was also making him turn the pages fast.
He got up from his office chair, grabbed his cap and flashlight, and went off to tour the facility. Rudy was a night watchman at a corporation that did research dealing with space technology. It was the perfect job for a man who loved to read.
Rudy was a retired high school gym teacher from Connecticut, widower, and father of two grown children in their forties. His son was serving time in Georgia for manslaughter while his daughter was a mother of three and a successful podiatrist, a foot doctor.
Rudy had to walk around the facility and clock-in electronically at various points along the way. If there was any trouble, he was to call the police immediately. In the three years Rudy had the job, there hadn’t been anything other than boredom to contend with. The nights were long, but a good book made the time pass quicker.
After clocking-in at his first checkpoint on the second-floor, Rudy looked out a window. There was a white van outside. It was parked beside the chain-link fence that surrounded the facility. Rudy studied it as well as he could from where he was. It didn’t appear to have a flat or to be leaking fluid, but it might still have broken down.
Rudy continued on his rounds and figured that he’d go outside and check on the van once he’d finished. The building had three floors. The top housed the offices while the second-floor was a jumble of different labs. Walls and doors on the second-floor had been reconfigured several times since Rudy began working there, depending on the requirements of certain experiments.
The test animals were kept on the second-floor as well. Rudy didn’t like to think about them, especially the dogs. Rudy loved dogs and had a beagle at home named Max. Most of the ground-floor of the facility was warehouse space and storage areas, but a good portion of it was taken up by a huge vacuum chamber.
All Rudy knew about the stainless-steel chamber was that it was said to be used to test materials for deployment in space, along with the occasional manufacturing process. It was over thirty feet long, fifteen feet high, and big enough to hold a bus. Rudy had overheard one of the scientists say that it took all day to do something called a pump down period before the thing could even be used. There was a newer chamber recently added that took far less time to prepare. It was only about a tenth of the size of the old one.
Along with the dogs used in experiments, there were chimps, cats, and, of course, mice. Rudy had never met the scientists that experimented on them and didn’t want to. He assumed that they were okay people and likely normal enough, but he couldn’t imagine wanting to harm an animal for any reason.
Wanting to hurt people, now that was something Rudy could understand. Some of the smart-mouth punks he used to have to deal with as a teacher certainly caused him to want to injure them. He did act out on the impulse once. Rudy body-slammed a student named Nick Costas. Costas was a seventeen-year-old jock in 1976 and the biggest jerk you’d ever want to meet.
During wrestling practice, Rudy had had enough of Costas talking back to him. At the time, Rudy was a strapping man in his thirties. He plucked Costas off the mat they were standing on, flipped him over, and slammed him down as hard as he could. It had felt so good to shut that punk’s mouth, but it had come at a cost.
Rudy had been suspended for a week and came close to losing his job. However, his claim that he had simply been instructing the class about a wrestling maneuver had eventually been accepted. It hadn’t hurt that at the time, Rudy had been friendly with the district superintendent.
Costas got payback by flattening two of the tires on Rudy’s car. No one saw him do it, but Rudy knew. He didn’t make a fuss, bought two new tires, and life went on.
By senior year, Nick Costas was the star running back on the football team and Rudy was the team’s coach. They made it to the state finals together and ended up being friends. Sadly, the boy died in a drunk driving incident out on Route 1 while he was attending college. Rudy went to Nick Costas’ funeral, and damn if he hadn’t shed a few tears.
* * *
Rudy finished his rounds and went outside, where the scent of the nearby sea was strong. He wanted to get a better look at the van. The first thing he noticed was how close it was to the fence. Seeing that reminded him of a story he’d heard from the guard who had trained him. The man said that a few years earlier, animal rights activists parked a van near the fence. They used the vehicle as a platform to help them scale the razor wire at the top and get onto the grounds. The guard, a guy named Gus, said that the group had draped blankets over the fence to keep from getting cut.
There were no blankets in sight, which made Rudy feel better. Then again, the fence was only eight feet high. If a man were in good condition, he could make the leap past the razor wire by jumping over it from the roof of the van.
Rudy shook his head at the idea. No, the van had suffered engine trouble or something, that’s all it was. Rudy called loudly as he grew closer, while taking out his flashlight. When he received no answer, he used the light to gaze inside the van. It was empty. When he looked for a license plate to scribble down the number in his pad, he saw that the van had none.
A sudden chill went down Rudy’s spine and he looked about as if to catch someone sneaking up on him. Afterward, Rudy chuckled. That horror novel he’d been reading was getting to him. The driver of the abandoned van likely called someone to come pick him up and would be back with a tow truck in the morning.
Rudy stood there a little longer, while listening for footsteps or movement. All he heard was the croak of frogs as they made their night sounds. Returning to the side door he’d left from, Rudy swiped his card to get back inside, then headed for the office to have his lunch.
Lunch for Rudy came at three a.m.; he was looking forward to it. It was the last of the lasagna his granddaughter had made for him. The girl was in high school and loved to cook. Rudy was standing in front of the microwave watching a plastic container go in a circle when he heard the noise come from behind him. Before he could turn his head, pain erupted in his skull and he passed out.
* * *
Hours later, Rudy groaned as he stirred awake. There was a sharp ache at the back of his head. When he reached up to touch the spot, he felt a lump.
What’s that sound? Rudy thought.
The noise was similar to the murmur of traffic but higher pitched. As Rudy became more aware, he realized that he was inside some sort of chamber. Light came in through a window, although the view through the special glass was murky.
A face appeared at the window. It was a man with a beard wearing some sort of clear visor. Rudy sat up and found that there were only inches of room left above his
head. Wherever he was, it was a cramped space. The man at the window spoke. Because of the thick glass, the guy practically screamed the words he was saying.
“Zero is an option.”
Rudy’s brow wrinkled in confusion. What the hell does that mean?
The man left the window and moved behind a nearby control panel. Rudy got to his feet, weaving unsteadily, as he was forced to bend over.
Having a better view through the window, Rudy recognized the room beyond the murky glass. He was in section two on the ground-floor of the facility. That was where they housed the smaller of the two vacuum chambers.
The full realization of where he was hit Rudy then, and he understood that he must be inside the chamber. A door was behind him; it was metallic and porthole-like. The three-foot-wide circular entrance was locked from the outside. Before Rudy could make a move toward it, the sound inside the chamber changed.
Rudy made a cry of fright as the temperature in the chamber dipped dramatically. Panic bloomed in Rudy and he moved toward the portal while shivering, even as he felt the saliva in his mouth boil away.
Mercifully, Rudy passed out within seconds. He was spared the experience of his body swelling to twice its normal size from the gasses growing inside him. More than a minute passed before Rudy’s heart stopped beating, while his blood boiled in his veins.
His murderer watched the spectacle of Rudy’s death with fascinated eyes, as a small smile curled his lips. Once he was certain Rudy was dead, he spray-painted the initials J.R. on the surface of the vacuum chamber.
After leaving the lab, the murderer used Rudy’s swipe card and made his way out of the building. While Rudy had been checking out the van, the killer had entered the building after breaking a rear window.
A button inside the unmanned guard shack opened the gates, allowing him to reach his vehicle. The sun was rising, and another beautiful day was beginning. The driver of the van turned on the radio and hummed to a familiar tune. He felt good, but then, he always strummed with pleasure after paying someone back. The old saying was true: Revenge was sweet.
Johnny Revenge Page 3
