No Fear

by Nolon King

  “Oh? Who else? Place is full of suck-ups and cronies.”

  He named several deputies, including Skippy.

  “Skippy likes me?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say likes you so much as respects you. He just thinks you’re a dick to him. Which, to be fair, he has a point.”

  “So, what now? You know this little kid is going to die, right?”

  “I hope not.”

  Mal stared out the window. “Well, with your hopes and my stellar track record, this toddler’s good as dead.”

  When he pulled up to her hotel, he got out then opened the rear door for her.

  “Thanks, Mike.”

  “Get some rest, and don’t worry about the kid. I’ll do what I can, and we’ll find this guy.”

  “I hope you do it fast.”

  “Go to sleep,” he said with a nod.

  She hugged Mike, squeezing him tight, forgetting how good it felt to be embraced by someone who cared about her. “I’m glad you have my back. Sorry for ever doubting it.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t see all the shit you were going through. I should’ve done more.”

  “You’re fine.” Mal pulled away before she started to cry like a pussy. “Goodnight.”

  She turned around then entered the hotel. Two minutes later, she was flashing her key card above the lock. The moment she opened the door, her heart fell into her gut.

  The place was trashed.

  There was blood on the floor.

  And sitting on the carpet was an envelope with two words on it in familiar writing.

  Detective Black.

  Chapter 37 - Jasper Parish

  Getting out was easier than it should have been.

  Jurko escorted them to the laundry area where they hid in laundry carts before getting hauled off by a service truck. Vehicles were typically searched before exiting the prison, but money must have changed hands a few spots down the line, same as always.

  Jasper and D’Andre stayed silent throughout the ride until they were dropped off along a side of highway on the county outskirts. They were met by a black van. After they hurried inside, they were met by a familiar face.

  Kim’s hair was different, but her non-nonsense expression was exactly the same. “Well, hello, Professor,” she said, looking back into the rear.

  Jasper smiled for the first time in a while. “Fancy meeting you here. How did you guys pull this off. And why?”

  “Long story short, Young Luther pissed off the wrong people, made enemies with the warden. Logic has been infiltrating 904 ever since he got out of Creek County. As for the why, he needs a favor.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He’ll tell you himself. Right now, we’re getting you out of town. Gonna drive through to Georgia.”

  “No,” Jasper said. “I need to do something first.”

  Kim shook her head. “You don’t get to decide. We risked a lot to make this happen. And it wasn’t out of loyalty. We lost a lot of good guys with all that shit going down. Some of us are still pissed.”

  “Me, too. I never meant for that crap to happen with Spider. Or the rest of your crew. But all due respect, they knew what they were signing up for.”

  “True ‘dat.” Kim nodded. “Spider’s okay. She’s coming home in a week or so. After that, we’re gonna move her up to Jacksonville where Logic’s set up operations.”

  “She getting back into it?” Jasper said, disappointed.

  “Not unless she wants back in. Can’t stop someone that wants to work. For now, he’s just taking care of her.”

  “I’m happy to help Logic with whatever he wants from me, but first I need to help someone else. A kid in danger.”

  “Unless that kid is yours, no beuno.”

  “My daughter is dead. I’d like to prevent the same thing from happening to a friend.

  “Who?” D’Andre asked.

  Jasper laughed. “If I tell you it’s a cop, that make you want to help less?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Kim said.

  “Then it’s most certainly not a cop.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Remember that detective whose kid was killed a couple years back?”

  “Yeah, what about her?”

  “She’s in danger. Same for another kid she’s taking care of. They’re gonna die if I don’t do something.”

  Kim shook her head. “Shit, what is it with you and that chick?”

  “What do you mean?” Jasper asked.

  “Logic did her a favor not too long ago, said she was good people.”

  “She is. Very good.”

  “Can’t you just call her?” Kim asked.

  “I need to track down the killer, and I can’t do that without touching—”

  “Hold on. I’m gonna call Logic.”

  Kim dialed while D’Andre rolled a blunt and Jasper wondered where Jordyn was. He was starting to worry she was stuck in prison, but that didn’t make sense. Sometimes his daughter just went to wherever spirits go.

  She’ll be back. She has to.

  D’Andre lit the joint, took a drag, then passed it to Jasper.

  “Can’t let it dampen this.” Jasper tapped his temple.

  “Suit yourself, man. Shit, I missed this.”

  “Thanks for what you did back there.”

  “No problem, Professor.”

  “You still could’ve stopped him sooner.”

  “You sure you don’t want some a’ this? It’ll help with the pain.”

  “Maybe when I finish what I need to do.”

  “Aight,” D’Andre said from behind another hit.

  Kim hung up. “All right, Professor. Logic said cool, but you best not get yourself killed. He still needs you.”

  “I’ll stay alive, but I might need to get my hands on some weapons.”

  Kim smiled. “We might be able to hook you up.”

  “Hell, yeah, we can.” D’Andre laughed from behind a plume of smoke.

  Chapter 38 - Mallory Black

  Mallory stared at Katie’s photo.

  The girl was unconscious, gagged, and blindfolded. Despite the gash on her head, the wound didn’t look nearly as bad as the blood-soaked carpet suggested.

  She put up a fight. Maybe some of the blood belongs to him.

  There was a phone in the envelope, but no programmed or previous history.

  Mal called Mike and gave him an update. He was at the station, waiting for Barry’s return.

  She hadn’t turned on the news or heard what Ford had said. Nor did she care. That toddler was probably already dead.

  “You want me to come over?”

  “Not yet,” Mal said. “I need to handle this and don’t want Barry cuffing me, literally. Besides, I might need you to get me some help, and it has to come from you.”

  Mike gave her a heavy okay, then hung up.

  Mal stared at the photo, her world swaying underfoot. Sitting on the couch was the only thing keeping her vomit inside.

  She’d led another child into danger.

  Why the fuck didn’t I bring Katie with me to the station?

  Because I didn’t think he was stalking me. Didn’t think he knew anything about Katie. There was no way I could have known this.

  Exactly. You can’t protect anybody, Mal. Not from a determined killer. And, face it, you bring this attention onto yourself:

  You put Ashley in danger.

  You put Jessi in danger.

  You put Katie in danger.

  You are the common denominator.

  Mal was terrified. Her anxiety was back, and more brutal than ever, but at least she was breathing and keeping it from choking the life from her body. Instead, it chewed at her soul.

  She wasn’t sure which was worse, the physical pain of her last panic attack or the mental anguish still coming in waves from this one, that feeling of helplessness that felt impossible to shake.

  Three people were already dead. Four if he’d murdered the toddler.

  Mal answ
ered the phone before the first ring ended. “Where is she?”

  “Patience, Detective Black. First, tell me why my manifesto was not read.”

  “The sheriff kept me from going on-air. I tried and got shut down. Seems he isn’t a fan of your work. Please don’t take it out on Katie or the toddler.”

  “I’m not a monster, and I don’t kill innocents. The child is fine. I’ve sent his location to the sheriff’s office.”

  Mal didn’t bother to ask what Alice Shaw had ever done to anyone. “And what about Katie?”

  “That whore is not an innocent. No surprise, with you as an influence.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “Of course you will. Not so tough now that I’ve got someone you care about, are you detective? We both know you’re only pretending. That’s what women like you do best, right? Say nice things to get what you want, despite how you really feel. What was it you were calling me last time? A ‘sick fuck pussy,’ I believe. Tell me, Miss Black. Do you still feel that way?”

  Mal felt punched in the stomach repeatedly and hated herself almost as much as she hated him.

  “No.” Her vomit was getting harder to hold inside.

  “Good, you’re learning. But this is only the first lesson, detective. Before the night is over, you will see the glory that will be coming unto this world. You will witness my greatness.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m going to send you coordinates, and you will come alone. If you bring anybody else or send anyone to try and intercept or snipe at me, I will not hesitate to kill her. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” Mal said. “What do you want when I get there? Money? Something else?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Fuck.

  At least a demand for cash would be straightforward. But if money wasn’t the monster’s goal, and he was some wackadoo twisting religion to suit his sick ideology, then it was only a guess at what he might do.

  What did he mean by witnessing his greatness? What the hell was this monster planning? God only knew what someone like him might do to make an example of his enemies or show the world his message.

  “See you in two hours, detective. Don’t be late.”

  He hung up.

  Mal paced her living room, careful not to step on any evidence in what was about to be an active crime scene and wondering whether to call Mike or not.

  She was startled by a knock.

  Mal grabbed her gun then slowly approached the door.

  Then she opened it and saw the last person in the world she expected to see.

  Chapter 39 - Jasper Parish

  “Hello.” Jasper waved, offering Mallory the best smile he had under such painful circumstances.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I kinda got out early.”

  “What?”

  “Well, not officially, or anything.”

  “Get in here.” Mal pulled him inside then closed and locked the door behind them.

  “Don’t step anywhere. We’ve got a crime scene here.”

  “That’s why I’m here … Katie.”

  She stared at him, confused for only a moment before she seemed to realize what he was saying — Katie was the ‘daughter’ he saw in danger.

  “So, she’s the one you saw?”

  “Yeah, only it wasn’t clear then.”

  Jordyn was back, looking around the hotel room.

  “What happened?” Mallory asked. “How did you get out?”

  “Long story and it doesn’t matter. I won’t be here long. I came to help you.”

  “Help me? I’m guessing you’re a fugitive?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe they faked my death. Not sure which way the warden is gonna play it.”

  “The warden knows?”

  “There’s some sketchy shit going on,” Jasper said. “Crooked cops, a bunch of smart phones smuggled in, and a dude running a drug empire from prison. But none of that matters right now. I’m here to help you find this asshole.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  Jasper told Mallory about his visions, including seeing himself and Jordyn in this room, how he’d tried to talk to her but couldn’t, and eventually knocked a glass of soda over in frustration.

  Her eyes widened at the mention of the shattered glass.

  “How?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. If you’re asking if I was actually here, I don’t think so. At least, not physically. But mentally, no doubt. Your place looks exactly as I saw it. Did the killer leave something for you?”

  Mallory nodded toward the table where there was an envelope, a photograph, and a phone sitting on top of it.

  “You dust it yet?” Jasper asked.

  “No.” Mallory shook her head.

  “I need to touch them. I won’t leave prints.”

  “Okay.” Mal met him at the table.

  Jasper placed the back of his hand down so it was barely touching the envelope. He saw nothing and turned to Jordyn. “I need your help.”

  She placed her hand over his. A name popped into his head. Howie.

  A flood of images. A young boy, fat and bullied for his appearance. Sweet and kind until the world broke him.

  The one person who should have protected him from that world broke him first.

  Jasper dove deeper into the man’s psyche, the connection stronger than any he’d felt.

  “It’s like he wants us to see his pain,” Jordyn said.

  The boy transformed into a large, ugly man with memories of his mother harping on him, of watching naked people via his laptop as he spied and masturbated, of the shame and punishment he always inflicted upon himself afterward.

  Howie’s self-hatred ran deeper than most of the evil people Jasper had peered inside.

  He went deeper and saw the darkness that called itself Mister K. A pure black entity that promised Howie answers, swore he could belong to something greater than himself, something that would finally make him matter.

  Howie lured a child into his van then did vile things to innocent body and soul.

  Jasper had seen glimpses into the worlds and minds of many monsters. He’d witnessed countless atrocities leveled upon women and children and felt the darkness in all of these souls. But nothing came close to what he saw in this man.

  The blade cut into the naked child’s skin. Jasper yanked his hand away in disgust, anger and sorrow boiling his blood.

  “What did you see?” Mallory asked.

  “Too much,” Jasper said, shaking. He looked up to see his daughter crying.

  “Did you get anything?” Mallory pressed.

  “A little. A name, Howie. Drives a van.”

  “Anything more? Do you know where he is now?”

  Jasper shook his head.

  “We need to keep going,” Jordyn said.

  “Are you sure?” Jasper could barely handle the pain himself, let alone expose his daughter.

  She nodded. “If we don’t, Katie will die.”

  Jasper took her hand then they set them palms down on the phone, no longer concerned about prints. He saw too much that he could never un-see.

  But he also saw something they could use. He pulled away and looked at Mallory.

  “His name is Howard Loomis.”

  Chapter 40 - Howard Loomis

  Howard paced in the darkness downstairs.

  The place belonged to Richard Messer, a widower who would be missed by nobody. He lived on a relatively secluded street with only two other homes. Both at the far end, and each of them abandoned. A large swath of woods threw shadows on the house from behind it.

  Howard had parked his van in the garage beside Richard’s car.

  The slut was cuffed to the bed upstairs. Amid her muffled whimpers came the clanging of metal on metal. He considered heading up there to shut her up again but didn’t want to face the temptation of her sinful body.

  Mister K suggested Howard enjoy her, but he thought that was p
robably a test to see if he’d sleep with a whore. He had to resist the urges that came with seeing her splayed and helpless on the bed.

  Howard was startled by the ringing phone. He picked it up, the hairs on his neck standing on end as if Mother had caught him in the midst of yet another shameful act.

  “Howie? Where are you? It’s late.” Her voice was frail, not stern and cold as it had been for so much of his life.

  “I’m working late. What do you need, Mother?”

  “You didn’t tell me you were working late. Is there a problem?”

  “No, Mother, everything is fine.”

  “Can you …” A dramatic sigh. Or maybe she’d just forgotten what she was saying.

  “What, Mother?”

  “Never mind, dear.”

  He hated when she guilt-tripped him into doing something. This time the sigh was his. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it.”

  “We need some milk, if you happen to swing by the store.”

  “Milk. Got it. Anything else, Mother?”

  The harlot’s whimpering grew louder.

  “Howie? Are you with a … woman?”

  “No, Mom. I’m working at somebody’s house. Their TV is loud.”

  “You know God hates a liar.”

  “I’m not lying, Mom.”

  Loud banging from upstairs, maybe his prisoner kicking the wall.

  Or she’d gotten free!

  “I’ve got to go, Mother.”

  “Don’t you hang up on me, Howie!”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  Howard hung up, raced upstairs, then threw open the door to see the whore writhing on the bed, kicking with all her might and desperately trying to destroy the wall. There were already two holes in it, and she was working on the third.

  “Stop it!” Howard shouted, racing to the bed and smacking her across the face.

  The succubus glared at him as she lashed out and pounded her heel into his balls.

  Howard doubled over, then spat at her. “You are going to pay for that!”

  She mouthed something through the rag, probably an obscenity from her filthy, disease-ridden mouth.