Johnny Revenge

by Remington Kane

  “Did it get physical?”

  “No, but maybe our guy Wildcard is taking things a few steps further.”

  Another hour passed and Erica closed her laptop. She looked around and saw that the large room was growing empty, as many of her fellow agents had already left for home. It was nearing the end of another long day for her.

  Erica’s eyes were tired from all the reading she’d been doing. Before that, she and Owens had been conducting interviews involving another case in Rockville, Maryland. It was almost seven p.m. and she had arrived at her desk at six a.m.

  Owens was recently divorced from his wife after fifteen years of marriage. The new bachelor wasn’t coping well with the change. Owens’ two daughters lived with their mother, who had moved to Ocean City, Delaware. Owens visited whenever he had time to make the six-hour roundtrip drive, but his work often got in the way.

  It was Owens’ long hours and commitment to his job that cost him his marriage in the first place. Erica sensed her partner’s loneliness and his unease with his new situation, so she asked him to join in her plans for the evening.

  “I’m going to my mom’s restaurant tonight. Do you want to tag along, Brad?”

  “Thanks, but I can’t,” Owens said. “I’m having dinner with my sister and her family. One of my nephews is celebrating a birthday.”

  “All right, but you know my mom will send you food anyway.”

  “Good, I love her cooking.”

  * * *

  They were on the elevator and headed down to go home when their phones went off. It was a text from their supervising agent, Chuck McVie. Wildcard’s fifth victim had been discovered in Fort Collins, Colorado. She had been a woman named Angela Shaffer. Erica and Owens were to travel to Colorado ASAP.

  Shaffer, like the other victims, was a lover of books who often wrote reviews. Her name had been checked against the roster of people who had been involved with the Choice Book Club. She was not a match. Upon learning that, Owens’ shoulders slumped.

  “I guess this makes the book club a dead end.”

  “It also means I won’t be seeing my mom tonight. I’ll call her on the way to the airport.”

  Their phones went off again, indicating that they had received a preliminary file on the newest victim. The first thing Erica noticed was that the woman had been murdered many days before the body was discovered. That placed her death prior to Rudy Brennan’s murder.

  “So, Wildcard hasn’t taken a break. This might also mean there are more victims out there.”

  Owens nodded as he read further into the file.

  “All these deaths have been strange, but this one might be the oddest of all.”

  Erica read as they rode the elevator back up to speak with their supervising agent for more details. Looking over the aspects of the new murder caused her to shake her head in bewilderment.

  “This is truly bizarre. It also tells me something that I suspected about Wildcard is true.”

  “What’s that?” Owens said.

  “He loves this… the killing. It’s like a sport for him, or a game maybe.”

  “It’s a game he’ll lose,” Owens said.

  Chapter Seven

  FORT COLLINS, COLORADO, TWO WEEKS EARLIER

  Angela Shaffer, Wildcard’s fifth victim, reported that she was being stalked prior to her death. The police had reason to doubt her story.

  Shaffer was twenty-nine, single, and lived her life as she had since leaving her parents’ home at eighteen. She worked, played, and partied hard. She hadn’t had a serious relationship with anyone and didn’t want one.

  The amber-eyed blonde believed that marriage was for fools and fidelity was a lie. She couldn’t remember how many married men she had slept with, two of whom were wed to her friends, or rather, former friends.

  Angela worked at a club and was responsible for booking bands and overseeing private parties. Life was about having fun and Angela enjoyed her days immensely.

  Although she loved books, she seldom read, per se, but preferred to listen to them in audio format. Between her commutes to work and her morning run, she went through about seventy books a year. Angela also left reviews under the name Hot Girl Angie.

  * * *

  Angela entered her ground-floor apartment after returning home from a night out with her friends. She really shouldn’t have driven herself since she was drunk, but the bar was only twenty minutes away, so she figured, Why not?

  After stumbling through her front door, she locked it behind her and entered the alarm code. She had to input the numbers twice because her eyes were blurry. Before heading to the shower, Angela poured a glass of wine. It was something she did upon returning home and the habit was ingrained.

  The white wine tasted good. She had been drinking martinis all night and was tired of tasting vodka. After downing the wine, Angela went into her bedroom. She froze after crossing the threshold.

  Some primal instinct was telling her there was something wrong. Angela glanced around the room and saw nothing out of place. Next, she sniffed the air.

  There was an unfamiliar scent, or maybe she was imagining it. While feeling silly, she looked in her closet, then peeked under the bed. Lowering her head to the floor made the room spin. She assumed it was because she was drunk. She was wrong.

  After laughing at herself for feeling so paranoid, Angela returned to the front door and armed the alarm again. She usually didn’t set it until she was ready to go to sleep, but tonight she felt better about doing it before she stepped into the shower.

  She never made it to the shower. After walking back into the bedroom, an immense weariness overcame Angela and she tumbled atop the bed. The sedative that had been in the wine placed her into a deep sleep.

  * * *

  Angela stirred awake but was still too groggy to open her eyes. Cold, she was so cold, and there were voices murmuring around her. She groped for a blanket and her fingertips felt grass. When she forced her eyes open, she saw that she was surrounded by a group of Boy Scouts.

  The boys were all preteens and their eyes were huge with wonder and excitement. It was the first time any of them had seen a naked woman in real-life.

  Angela jumped to her feet, watched the world spin around her and fell back down. The boys had scattered away from her, but their troop leader appeared to take in the situation. He was an older man with graying hair and a thin mustache. His eyes became large and he stared as the boys had, as he took in Angela’s taut, tanned body.

  After shaking himself from his trance and clearing his throat, the man sent one of the boys to fetch a blanket. When the kid returned, the blanket was wrapped around Angela and she was helped to her feet. As she was escorted over to a picnic table to sit, one of the other adults called the police.

  * * *

  Angela’s clothing was found scattered in a trail that began at her car and ended near the area where the Boy Scouts had been sleeping. An empty wine bottle was in her vehicle and she seemed intoxicated. By the time she was administered a breathalyzer test she passed it by the barest of margins.

  She was taken to the police station in the back of a patrol car after being arrested for indecent exposure. Angela told everyone she spoke to that she didn’t understand what had happened. She was ignored. The cops had seen drunks do strange things before, without fail, they all denied having the intent to do them.

  Angela protested and claimed that she was innocent. When they threatened to level a charge against her for exposing herself to children, Angela remained silent.

  The jail cell they placed her in smelled of vomit. Her cell mates were two prostitutes who had tried to rob a drunken John. One of the women had a black eye and the other had blood on her skirt. Thankfully, they ignored Angela, and she returned the favor.

  After suffering the embarrassment of having to be bailed out by her younger sister, Barbara. Angela had Barbara take her to her car. The vehicle was still at the campsite. As she climbed into it, Angela saw a few of the
scouts pointing at her while laughing. With her face growing red, she started the engine and drove away.

  * * *

  Arriving home, Angela found that the alarm was on. She failed to reset it in time and it emitted a wail. Tearing her eyes away from her living room, she keyed-in the code, then answered her phone as the alarm company called.

  After confirming she was the rightful occupant of her apartment by reciting a password, Angela was asked if everything was all right.

  “No, everything is not all right, I… I think you should send the cops here.”

  All the furniture in Angela’s apartment had been rearranged. It was as neat as ever, but none of it was where it should be. Even the prints on the walls had been shifted about. The same was true of the bedroom, where the bed had been placed on the opposite side of the room.

  While she waited for the police, Angela sat out on the front steps of her apartment house and called her best friend, Ginny. Ginny had still been sleeping, as she recovered from their evening of drinking.

  “Whoa, slow down, Angie. What was all that about naked boy scouts?”

  “They weren’t naked, I was.”

  “That’s a kinky dream.”

  “I wish it had been a dream, but never mind that, someone broke into my apartment while I was gone. They moved all my furniture around.”

  “They trashed the place?”

  “No, they just moved things. Can you come by, Ginny?”

  “Give me half an hour, and have coffee ready.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  The police came. They were a man and a woman, both in their thirties. Thanks to their computer system, they knew that Angela had been arrested for indecent exposure. They were also aware that she passed a breathalyzer test only because it took so long to administer it.

  The female cop suggested to Angela that she had rearranged the furniture while she was drunk. The male cop wasn’t as blunt, but Angela could tell that he didn’t believe her either. After Angela confirmed that nothing of value was missing, she was beginning to wonder if she really had changed things.

  The cops were driving away when Ginny showed up. By the time Ginny went home that evening, Angela was laughing about what had happened. She and Ginny had also put her furniture back the way she liked it.

  Maybe I need to take a break from drinking, Angela thought. She was sipping on white wine while doing so.

  After taking a long shower and checking the alarm three times, Angela slipped under the covers and went to sleep.

  * * *

  4:46 a.m.

  Angela awoke after hearing a door slam. She gasped as she sat up and listened for more sounds. An old boyfriend had given her a gun, when the area she was living in at the time had a spate of burglaries. The weapon was a Sig Sauer P238 with a walnut grip. The gun weighed less than a pound and held six rounds.

  Angela had only fired the weapon once and that was four years ago. She’d dug it out of the back of her closet after being spooked by the odd events of the previous day. Angela normally kept the gun stuffed inside a boot.

  After climbing out of bed, Angela shrugged into a robe and left the bedroom. The apartment was still dark. She had to fumble for the light switch with her left hand while holding onto the gun with her right.

  When the light came on, she received a shock. Her sofa was upside down, as was the rest of the furniture in her living room. They were where they should be, but they were turned over. When Angela checked the door, she saw that it was locked, and the alarm was armed. A quick look into the kitchen and bathroom confirmed that they were empty and appeared normal. And yet, someone had been inside the apartment. The furniture was upside down.

  A burglar or a stalker must have gotten in past the lock and alarm while she was asleep. When Angela imagined being watched while she slept, it made her shiver.

  Someone is screwing with me.

  She hesitated for a few moments, then dialed the police. A friend of hers had been stalked. Angela knew that it was important to document the stalker’s activities. But was this stalking, or was it something else?

  * * *

  The cops on the night shift, a young guy and an old guy, were openly skeptical about Angela’s claim that someone had disturbed her furniture again.

  “Why would someone do that?” the older of the two cops asked. “And how would they have gotten in? Your alarm was set, and the door locked from the inside.”

  “I don’t know how they’re doing it, but I know it wasn’t me. I was asleep.”

  The young cop smirked at Angela. He had acne scars on both cheeks and was skinny. She hated that he called her ma’am.

  “Did you have a lot to drink again, ma’am, maybe too much?”

  “I had one glass of wine.”

  “And you think someone snuck in here just so they could flip your furniture over?”

  “I don’t think it, I know it; someone is stalking me.”

  “Alcohol can cause people to do strange things, ma’am.”

  Angela crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to make out a report or not?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we’ll file a report.”

  “What about dusting for prints?”

  The cop stifled a laugh. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “Then just make your report and go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  * * *

  Later that day, Angela was grateful she’d had a light evening at work and was allowed to go home early. She arrived back at her apartment around midnight. After opening the door, she entered with her hand gripping the gun she had decided to carry in her purse.

  Everything looked normal. The alarm was on and the furniture was where it belonged and right side up. A check of the rest of the apartment revealed nothing odd. With her glass of wine in hand, Angela went into the bedroom to change out of her clothes. She’d been intending to go online for a while to visit social media sites and relax; however, by the time she left the shower she only wanted to sleep. After placing the gun on the nightstand, Angela reclined atop the bed. The drug slipped into her wine knocked her out once again.

  * * *

  She awoke just past noon to the sound of someone pounding on the door. It was the police; they were demanding that she open up. Angela, still groggy, jumped out of bed while grabbing for her robe to cover her nakedness. The robe wasn’t there, and she was no longer in her bedroom.

  She was inside a motel room, and a seedy one at that, if the décor was any indication. She had no memory of getting there and shivered from the terror she was feeling.

  “Miss Shaffer? Open the door!”

  The male voice came from her right, from behind a connecting door to the room. The first voice boomed again from the door leading outside to the parking lot. Although still woozy and unsteady on her feet, Angela realized that the police were at both entrances into the room. After yanking the blanket off the bed to cover herself, she rushed toward the nearest door to open it. Angela stopped cold as she got a look at herself in the mirror.

  Her hair was dyed neon green. The sight so shocked her that she blocked out the cops and stared at her reflection.

  The sound of splintering wood startled her from her trance while frightening her. The blanket slipped from her grasp, leaving her standing there naked when the cop entered the room. His gun was drawn, and he barked orders at Angela. She was too stunned to comply and stared at the man with her mouth hanging open.

  Moments later, Angela was on the floor, still naked, and with her hands cuffed behind her. She was crying so hard that she was unable to speak.

  * * *

  The motel manager had called the police; she was a woman with a chain smoker’s deep voice. She said that Angela crashed her car into the door of the room next to the one she was found in, then locked herself into the adjoining room.

  The motel’s lone outdoor camera was positioned high on an old flag pole and only showed a view of the entire lot. Someone had d
riven Angela’s car into the building, but it was impossible to see details of the driver.

  After running her vehicle’s plate number on their arrival, Angela’s name came back to the cops, along with all the recent reports involving her. Her unregistered gun was found on the floor near the driver’s seat.

  Angela was arrested again, but this time she was ferried to the hospital first for a consultation with a female psychiatrist. She didn’t know what the woman told the cops, but Angela got the impression they all thought she was losing it. The truth was, she was beginning to wonder herself.

  * * *

  Her friend Ginny stayed with her that night after picking her up at the station. Angela and Ginny took turns sleeping so that one of them would be awake if anything happened. Angela had risen at four a.m. after Ginny shook her awake to take her turn on watch.

  At eight, Ginny had to get up so that she could be at work by nine. As she was leaving Angela, she made a suggestion.

  “Install a few spy cameras in here. That way, you’ll have proof next time something happens.”

  Angela agreed with Ginny and thanked her for being such a good friend.

  “Do you want me to come by tonight too?”

  Angela did, but thought it would be asking too much.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said.

  * * *

  After being unable to contact Angela the next morning, Ginny met Angela’s sister Barbara at the apartment in the afternoon. Barbara had a key and knew the alarm code. They found the apartment empty. Sitting on the kitchen table was a bag containing three wireless cameras. Angela’s car wasn’t outside the apartment, and her phone went unanswered.