The Tangerine Killer

by Claire Svendsen

  He finds himself longing for Sam again.

  He’s been following the slut ever since. She’s not his primary target but he’s fascinated with her all the same. What makes a woman degrade herself in such a way? He wishes he knew. He never has such luck.

  Frank isn’t the only one she’s been sleeping with and now that he’s dead she’s picked up the pace. There are multiple guys every night. Some in hotel rooms, others in the park. He hides in the bushes and sees her pressed against the trees with her panties down round her ankles. Sometimes she forgoes the panties all together. He thinks this is a smart move. The guys never last very long anyway. He doesn’t get that either. He likes to draw things out. Prolong the pleasure. Perhaps introduce a little pain along the way.

  He doesn’t know if she started out that way but now she’s a dirty whore. She slips cash into her bra as the men wipe their dicks and walk away. Sometimes the next guy is already lined up waiting. Lurking in the shadows with dick hard and pride forgotten.

  He masturbates to her every encounter but what was once exciting is now mundane and boring. He no longer feels excitement when he sees a man penetrate her. She barely seems interested herself as they thrust and groan. Instead her look is faraway and sad. He hopes she’s thinking about Frank. About all that could have been and now will never be. The passion and fire she once had has gone and he knows it’s all because of him.

  When she’s done with her work, she goes to buy drugs. Heroin from the guy on 5th Avenue. Sometimes she can’t even wait until she gets home. She squats behind the dumpster like a rat and injects herself. He watches as that stupid grin comes over her face and her eyelids grow heavy. Then she staggers home.

  He knows how to follow someone without being caught, after all he’s been doing it his whole life but this time is different. He makes his presence known just enough to scare the whore. First he just follows her, tracking every move she makes. The strip clubs where she picks up the men who pay her for sex. The park. The drugs. Her home. It’s a sad, endless, repetitive loop.

  He starts to go inside. Moves things around. Takes a few mementos. The panties she wore when Frank fucked her up against the car. Those are special to him. Apparently not to Jill. She doesn’t even notice they are missing. He has to swipe the emergency stash of heroin she keeps in her nightstand before she realizes anything is wrong. That’s when she really flips out. She runs straight to Sam just as he knew she would.

  He doesn’t hang around long enough to watch the scene play out, he can’t risk being seen. He only stays long enough to see Sam reluctantly let the slut into her room. She opens the door in a bathrobe and nothing else. He’s aroused but pushes the feeling aside. He has to stay focused. He can’t afford to make any mistakes.

  Everything in the basement is ready. His tools sterilized and prepped by the stainless steel table he ordered online. He has candles and incense on an old wooden crate in the corner. He feels it’s a nice touch. Just one trial run and then he’ll be ready.

  NINETEEN

  Jill slept curled on my bed like a cat, her breath soft and whispering. Sleep was the last thing on my mind. I stood with the door propped open, smoking my way through the last pack of cigarettes.

  She hadn’t given me anything more to go on and finally passed out in the middle of a sentence. It didn’t take much to figure out she’d been high on something. The bloodshot eyes, the loss of focus. She probably wouldn’t stick to her story in the light of day when the drugs wore off.

  By the time the sun broke over the horizon, I was on my third cup of stale coffee and out of cigarettes. I kicked the bed frame and Jill stirred.

  “What time is it?” she mumbled.

  “Eight.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She shuffled up the bed, eyes wide and bleary as she looked around.

  “Take a wild guess.”

  She just sat there fidgeting.

  “Come on, you’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lies Jill. I’m talking about lies.”

  “Everyone lies.”

  She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. As she stretched her arms above her head I saw track marks running up her arm. A couple of them looked infected.

  “So everyone lies do they?”

  It was a rhetorical question but I knew she was right. I lived a life full of lies and deceit. Who was I to expect others to conform to rules even I didn’t abide by?

  “I know what you want but I don’t know anything,” Jill shook her head.

  “Then why did you come here?”

  I jumped on the bed, resisting the growing urge to hurt her. I had to stay in control.

  “Tell me what you know,” I said.

  “I told you, I don’t know what’s going on.”

  She was calm, her voice steady as she spoke. Her composure only made me doubt her more.

  “You said you knew who had killed Lisa. Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. I lied,” she stuttered.

  “No, I don’t think you did. I think you know exactly who killed her and I think maybe it was you.”

  “It wasn’t. I swear.”

  “Then who was it?”

  I leant over her and she fell back onto the pillows in an attempt to get away from me. I was starting to get to her. I could tell she thought I was crazy.

  “Okay, if you get out of my face I’ll tell you.”

  I did but not by much. I didn’t trust her.

  “It was Faye.”

  “Faye? You’re joking right? Why would she kill her only daughter? What did she do, push Lisa off the bridge and into the river? I highly doubt it.”

  “No.”

  Jill looked straight at me and I thought I saw a flicker of amusement cross her face.

  “I think she hired someone to do it for her.”

  “What?”

  I was about to yell at her for wasting my time when something suddenly constricted around my throat. Jill let out a shrill scream and covered her eyes with her hands. My fingers clutched at the wire that was cutting off my air supply as I choked and gagged. My vision was fuzzy but I could just make out my gun. It lay just out of reach on top of the dressing gown I’d been wearing. If I made it out of this alive, I was going to permanently duct tape that sucker to my leg.

  I kicked and clawed at my attacker but nothing I did loosened the grip he had on me. In a final act of desperation I flung my body backwards and the momentum of my force threw us both back. He stumbled for his footing but couldn’t find it and though I could have steadied my own, I let my body crash into his and then we were both on the floor. As I landed on top of him, he gave a huge bellow of surprise. His fingers lost purchase on the wire and I broke free.

  I leapt for my gun, choking for air. It only took me a few seconds to spin back around but by that time he’d gone. I ran out into the parking lot, heart thumping in my chest, my gun poised and ready to shoot. There was no one out there. I ran out to the road but there was no giant man lumbering down the highway. I scanned the woods, hoping for a sign of broken stalks and flattened brush to show he’d fled into the wilderness. No such luck. The asshole had managed a brilliant disappearing act and I had just lost the only lead I had.

  Back in the room Jill was still slumped over in a heap, sobbing quietly under a wall of black hair. Some help she was. Some of us didn’t have the luxury of closing our eyes and pretending bad things weren’t happening.

  “Jill?” I coughed.

  No response. The girl was an idiot. I looked at my neck in the mirror. Shit. A nice, angry ring of red had been left by the noose. Not something I was going to be able to explain away very easily. Too bad I wasn’t the scarf type.

  I had to face facts. I wasn’t going to get anything out of Jill. It was time to hand her over to someone who would. I reluctantly picked up the phone.

  “Detective Olin please,” I choked over the static.

 
“Hold.”

  I waited a few minutes before he finally picked up and when he did he sounded bored.

  “Olin here.”

  “Grab yourself some extra coffee and get your ass over here. I need you awake and fully functional. Oh and pick me up a pack of cigarettes, someone just tried to kill me.”

  TWENTY

  “I feared it would come to this.”

  Detective Olin shook his head disapprovingly. I smiled sweetly but I knew he didn’t buy my innocence. But at least he did look relieved that I wasn’t the one on the bed, blubbering like an idiot.

  “Did you bring me something?” I stuck my hand out.

  “Maybe. If I could just remember where I put them.”

  He fumbled in his pockets, pretending to look.

  “Come on,” I laughed. “Addicts can’t wait you know.”

  “No. I must have forgotten.”

  There it was again, that schoolboy grin. I caught myself returning his smile and then quickly looked away, embarrassed.

  “Here they are.”

  He pulled the pack out of his jacket like a magician and turned to toss them to me. At the last second he changed his mind and walked over to where I stood against the dresser.

  “Here,” he said quietly, the smile gone.

  “Thanks.”

  As I took them his fingers brushed mine. Electricity sparked between us. The look on his face told me he felt it too.

  “So what did you do to her?” he asked.

  Jill still sat on the bed in a heap. She hadn’t moved since the attack. Now and then she muttered incoherently to herself. I tried to talk to her. Get her to snap out of it and tell me what she saw. I couldn’t get anywhere.

  “Why would you automatically assume that I did something?” I said.

  “Because you‘re trouble. I knew it the first time I met you.”

  He was right. I was trouble. Turns out I was also in trouble too. Reluctantly I pulled down the black turtleneck I put on after the attack and saw the color drain from his face. It wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. The angry red welt around my neck hurt like hell but I wasn’t going to tell Olin that.

  “It’s nothing,” I said.

  “It’s not nothing Sam. Who did this to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  I lit a cigarette, thankful this time my hand didn’t shake. Then I told Olin everything that happened.

  “You could have been killed,” he said softly.

  “I’m fine,” I tried to laugh his concern off but ended up choking instead. “Don’t worry, this guy was definitely hired help and he couldn’t have cost much because he didn’t really know what he was doing.”

  “Didn’t know what he was doing? You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m still here aren’t I?”

  “I don’t like this. He’s getting too close. You’re sure she didn’t see anything?” He pointed at Jill.

  “Oh she knows something all right. But whatever it is, she’s not telling. Maybe she’ll be more forthcoming when you drag her ass down to the station.”

  “Fine but you’re coming too.”

  “What? No.”

  My protests fell on deaf ears.

  “Don’t make a big deal out of this Olin. Please.”

  He took my arm gently. “It is a big deal Sam.”

  A squad car came for Jill. I got to ride with Olin in his black Escalade. It was neat and smelt of coffee and cookies. He’d probably have a heart attack if he saw the state my Jeep was in. I pulled out a cigarette but he took it from me before I lit up.

  “No smoking in the car.”

  “Oh come on. I was almost killed back there. Cut me a little slack.”

  He smiled but shook his head.

  “No. The seats absorb the smoke.”

  “Afraid you’ll start up again huh?”

  “You really should quit,” he said quietly. “Smoking will kill you.”

  “You’re the second person to tell me that,” I said. “Tell you what, when someone isn’t trying to kill me, then I’ll quit. Deal?”

  “You know I’ll hold you to that.”

  “I know.”

  I tossed my bag on the back seat and there it was, the real reason why Olin didn’t want me smoking in his car. A red toy car abandoned on the floor. There was no ring on his finger. Divorced? That would make sense. He wouldn’t want to pick his kid up from his ex in a car that smelt like an ashtray. Or was he playing me? I couldn’t tell but it was another good reason not to fall for Olin. Kids may have been on his menu but I wasn’t ordering. Not in this lifetime.

  TWENTY ONE

  Jill wasn’t any more help down at the station than she had been in the motel room. When they finally got her talking, she swore she never saw the man’s face. I sat behind the glass watching the interrogation. Jill couldn’t see me but she kept glancing at the mirror with venomous eyes. I knew the look was for my benefit.

  “What kind of an idiot just sits there with their eyes closed when someone in the same room as them is being attacked?”

  Olin leant forward with his arms crossed. Jill slunk back in her seat to get away from him.

  “All I need is a name. A face. Give me something to work with here.”

  “I told you,” Jill whispered. “I’m a victim too.”

  Olin flipped open the file on the desk.

  “You’re the victim? I see multiple arrests here for possession. A couple for prostitution. Exactly what kind of victim are you?”

  Jill’s bottom lip quivered. “Someone’s been following me. I think they want to kill me.”

  “And yet you sat there in that room while the life was being choked out of Sam and no one laid a finger on you.”

  “I can’t explain it,” she whispered.

  “Well you’d better damn try,” Olin yelled. He thumped his fist down on the table and Jill let out a little shriek. That was when Olin’s phone rang. He looked at it, then back to Jill.

  “You’d better give me something when I come back.”

  I hadn’t expected him to take the call. It had to be important. As soon as he left the room Jill’s tears dried up and her face took on a sour look. She knew how to work the system. Too bad for her Olin wasn’t buying it and neither was I. When he poked his head around the door to get me, he looked pissed.

  “Trouble?” I asked.

  “None that I would care to discuss with you,” he quipped back, his face red and flustered.

  It had to be his ex. “She’s got you by the balls?”

  “In a vice that tightens at every turn.”

  “Sexy.”

  “Yeah. Come on, let’s get some coffee.”

  I fiddled with the neck of my shirt as he led me through the precinct, embarrassed by the mark on my neck.

  Olin noticed me fussing. “No one cares.”

  “I care.”

  I set a scowl on my face and tried to look tough and angry but Olin was right. No one seemed to take any notice of me.

  Cops sat hunched over desks typing out reports and answering phones. The rest had gathered around an empty coffee machine like it was the last watering hole.

  “You have to put water and coffee grounds in first Torrington.” Olin slapped a large, beefy man on the back.

  “Nah, it’s busted,” Torrington shook his head sadly.

  Olin jiggled the wires at the back of the machine. When it gurgled to life everyone cheered.

  “You just have to know how to turn her on,” Olin grinned.

  “Shame your charms only work on electrical appliances,” I added.

  Torrington laughed. “Excellent!”

  He raised his hand to slap mine in a high five but I didn’t reciprocate and he was left with his arm hanging in midair like a giant ham waiting to be carved.

  “She’s out of your league man,” Olin told him.

  “Yours too by the look of it,” Torrington said.

  I couldn’t help smiling as I followed Olin back to the inte
rrogation room.

  “Going to have another go?” I asked.

  “She’s lying,” Olin said. “I can feel it.”

  “Do you think she’s involved in all this?” I asked.

  “I have a theory.”

  “Really? What is it?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Watch and learn.”

  He left and reappeared a few moments later in the interrogation room with Jill. This time he had an armful of folders. Her eyes grew wide as she looked from the papers up to Olin’s face.

  He set the files down on the table with a thud which sent static through the speakers. Next to them he placed a large cup of coffee which he sniffed suspiciously as he sat down. I couldn’t see his face but I knew he was putting on a good show for Jill.

  “I keep telling them I hate this flavored crap but do they take any notice? No.”

  He stretched his hands above his head lazily.

  “If I wanted nuts I’d pop open a can. When I want coffee, that’s what I want to taste, coffee. Black, strong, caffeine laced coffee.”

  Jill’s gaze had risen from the floor and she was now eying the coffee greedily.

  “Oh well. Hey, you don’t want it do you?”

  Jill nodded and snapped it up quickly before Olin could change his mind.

  “You know,” he continued, “we’re all friends here Jill. I help you, you help me. You know what I’m saying, right?”

  She smiled falsely. “I’m trying to help, really. I’m just so hopeless at all this.”

  She held the coffee close to her mouth like a baby with a bottle, taking little sips.

  “You’re not really hopeless though are you? More like hopeful? Or as I like to call it, opportunistic.”

  “What do you mean?”