“Paul?” She grabbed the person’s elbow and spun them around.
It was a woman with a short haircut. She glared at Ellie. Ellie backed off. Tired of being meek, Ellie pushed her way through the crowd, seeking out every redhead she could see. Paul was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, she bumped into a woman and they both went to the ground. Through the legs of people, Ellie noticed a figure standing by a bar who wore a black hoodie with the cowl over his pasty white face. One of his eyes was green and the other was silver. He was watching Ellie. When Ellie regained her balance, the tempo of the music increased and the clubbers danced chaotically. Standing on her toes, Ellie tried to get a look at the hooded man, but the bouncing bodies obscured her view. She noticed that the man was gone.
Someone grabbed her elbow. The hair on Ellie’s neck rose. She turned back quickly, expecting a knife in her gut. It was only Peaches. He yelled something, but Ellie couldn’t make out the words. Ellie gestured for them to leave the dance floor. Pushing through the clubbers and getting a few bruises, Ellie and Peaches burst forth from the sea of grinding people. Part of Peaches’s bandage was peeking out of his beanie. Ellie pushed it back under. “I saw him.”
“Who?” Peaches asked, shooing her hand away.
“The hooded man,” Ellie exclaimed. She glanced at the bar where he had stood, but there was no sight of him. Without waiting for Peaches’s response, Ellie jogged to the bartender wiping down the countertop with a wet rag. She looked at Ellie. “What can I get for you?”
“Who was that man you were serving?” Ellie asked harshly.
The bartender crinkled her brow. She had long brunette hair cut short on the sides and braided on the top and back. She had different types of earrings in each ear and wore a skintight shirt with a logo of some punk band on the front. “I don’t know who you are talking about.”
“Pale skin, black hoodie, scars on his face,” Ellie explained swiftly.
The woman shrugged. “I don’t recall.”
Ellie’s heart sank. She twisted back to Peaches standing right behind her. “I swear I saw him.”
“I know,” Peaches replied with his normal trustworthy demeanor that Ellie trusted less the more she saw it. Peaches moved aside and leaned on the bar. “Hey, I was looking for someone.”
The bartender looked him up and down, pleased by what she saw. “So was I.”
The handsome detective smiled sweetly. “It’s a man --”
The bartender glared at Ellie. “I haven’t seen anyone like that.”
“Not like the one she described. This guy has red hair, about five ten, late twenties.”
The bartender thought for a moment. “You’re going to need to be more specific.”
“He’s from out of town,” Peaches said. “Maybe you overheard something like that.”
“I’m not really supposed to say,” the bartender replied.
Peaches put his hand into his pocket and pulled out his business card. “I’m sure you can make an exception.”
The bartender grinned widely until she looked at the contents of the business card. Her joy left. “You’re a cop?”
“Detective,” Peaches replied.
The bartender sighed. “I saw the guy you’re looking for go upstairs.”
Peaches thanked her for her precious time and walked on. The bartender watched at the detective go and bit her lower lip.
Ellie shook her head and walked beside him. “You do that with every girl?”
“Only the ones I’m trying to seduce for information,” Peaches replied.
It sounded more like brutal honesty than a joke. They marched up the steps and reached the second floor. It was still loud, but not as loud. There were a few young couples making out in one booth. There were a group of guys taking around a table near the railing and a few other clusters of people scattered about. Ellie and Peaches walked through, each looking to the left and right for Paul or anyone that resembled him.
“There,” Ellie pointed to a table in the back corner. Paul, dressed in a nice untucked button up and skinny jeans, sat in a round booth next to a gorgeous brunette that did not seem as interested in him. They were drinking beers. Paul said something to her that made the woman laugh. He didn’t see Peaches and Ellie approach, but the woman did.
“Paul,” Ellie called out her brother’s name.
He was too busy talking to the girl to hear her. Ellie and Peaches stopped at the edge of the table. Peaches put his hands in his pockets. Ellie put her hands on her waist.
The girl cleared her throat.
Paul glanced over at Ellie, then back to the girl and then quickly back to Ellie. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to go,” Ellie said.
“What?” Paul said with confusion. He looked at Peaches. “Who are you?”
Peaches flashed his badge. “Homicide detective.”
The gorgeous woman’s eyes widened. She turned to Paul with a look of horror. Paul looked at her. “They’re joking, sweetheart.”
“Um,” the girl said, scooting away from Paul. “That badge looks pretty legit.”
“Hey, don’t go,” Paul said, a little more desperate than he probably meant to. “It’s just my sister and her, uh, boyfriend.”
The girl scrutinized him. “I thought you said your sister was married.”
Paul looked at Ellie. “She is.”
He scooted out of the booth and gestured for the girl to stay seated. “Don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back.”
The girl chewed a piece of gum, crossed her arms, and slouched. Paul gestured for Ellie and Peaches to follow him to a dark corner away from the woman. His face was red with embarrassment. “What are you doing here? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something.”
“She’s not interested,” Ellie replied.
By the way his face sank, it looked like he’d been stabbed with a knife.
Ellie continued. “We need to go. All three of us.”
Paul planted his feet. “What? No.”
“Listen to your sister,” Peaches said.
Paul looked him up and down. “You’re not cheating on Troy with this douche, are you?”
Ellie grabbed Paul’s shoulders and looked him in the eye with complete seriousness. “Someone is coming to kill you.”
Paul looked horrified at first, and then he laughed.
Ellie wanted to smack him across the face. “This is not a game. I’m talking about a real serial killer who’s in this club. Tonight.”
Paul’s expression turned to concern. “You’re serious?”
“Completely,” Ellie replied.
“Say I believe you. Why would they want me?” Paul asked.
“Because I pissed him off,” Ellie admitted. “Now, we’ve wasted enough time.”
Paul opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. Finally, he found his words. “Ellie, I don’t know what you’re smoking, but if I see any serial killers, you’ll be the first one I call. Deal?”
Not giving Ellie a moment to reply, Paul started back to the woman at the booth. A small crowd of men had gathered around her since he left and were showering her with compliments.
Ellie rubbed her forehead as she watched her brother try to break up a conversation neither the men or the girl wanted to end.
Peaches said, “We’ll keep eyes on him. No sweat.”
Ellie wasn’t surprised that her brother didn’t believe her, but that didn’t make her life any easier. Her and Peaches went to the nearby bar and got a couple of non-alcoholic beverages. As they watched Paul fumble over his words when speaking to the woman, Ellie and Peaches were silent. Peaches because he didn’t have much to say and Ellie because she was boiling with frustration. Through some cunning words and dumb luck, Paul managed to separate the woman from the crowd of men and lead her to the dance floor. He avoided making eye contact with Ellie as he passed by the bar and descended the flight of stairs.
Ellie followed after him. Peaches headed for the railing tha
t overlooked the dance floor. He sipped on his glass of water, keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity. Ellie followed Paul into the crowd. He gave her a stern face, but didn’t do anything to keep her from following him. Through the crowd, she saw someone move. A man with a hoodie. Was this him? Was this the killer? Ellie looked over the sweaty bodies and flailing arms at Peaches to see if he had seen the figure as well. His eyes were locked on someone near Ellie. She glanced to that part of the dance floor, seeing the hooded man shouldering his way through the crowd. Ellie tried to put herself between him and Paul. Through the mass of people, she couldn’t tell if he was armed or not. Surely he wouldn’t attack out in the open. Not without a plan of escape. Ellie stepped out in front where she thought his trek would end. A dancer pushed into her, sending her recoiling back into a few others. When she found her footing, she was face-to-face with the familiar stranger.
His skin was pale white and turned ugly by countless scars. The man had a hollow quality to him that seemed to draw Ellie in like matter into a black hole. He met eyes with Ellie, and it seemed like she was staring into the face of death itself. It seemed like the eye contact was his way of distracting Ellie, because she didn’t notice the small pocket knife he clenched in his gloved hands. He went for Ellie’s belly with a quick jab, but she managed to stride back in time to avoid the wound. She hit her back against a buff clubber.
“Watch it,” the buff man grunted and shoved Ellie back to her adversary. Keeping the knife low to his waist, the hooded man jabbed at Ellie again. She grabbed his wrist with both hands, ending the blade’s trek an inch from her stomach. Her face turned red and a vein bulged in her forehead as she held back the knife. The scarred-faced man was calm, almost emotionless in his assault.
Ellie gritted her teeth. She knew that if someone bumped into the hooded man, it would be enough force to send the point of the knife into her belly. Ellie yelled out. Her cry was drowned out by the thumping bass of the club’s music. The killer frowned at the sound of her scream, so she did it again. Suddenly, the hooded man pulled his hand out of Ellie’s and swiftly folded back into the crowd. Ellie caught her breath. Her heart was racing as fast as the club music’s rapid tempo. She glanced up at Peaches. He pointed past her. Ellie’s moment of rest came to a quick end as she saw the hooded man going for her brother. Motivated purely by instinct, Ellie elbowed her way through the crowd and toward Paul. His back was to the killer. The girl whom he danced with noticed the man with the hood and stopped dancing. Paul cocked his head, trying to understand his partner’s sudden lack of interest. The hooded man looked back at Ellie to spite her and aimed the knife blade at Paul’s spine. Ellie almost reached the hooded man until a dancer got in her way. She went for the next available target: Paul. She took her brother’s wrist and pulled him behind her, putting some space between him and the killer.
“Hey!” Paul exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
Ellie kept pulling him along. “We need to go! Hurry.”
Paul didn’t understand. At least, he didn’t understand until he turned back and saw the man stalking him.
Up on the second floor, Peaches pushed away from the railing, bumped into a young couple, and scurried down the stairs. Ellie kept her eyes on the front door. Her target. Her escape. Paul struggled to keep up. “Who is that guy?”
“No questions,” Ellie said.
Paul moved up to the space beside her until they were both out of the front door. The night wind hit them like a wave and sent Ellie’s blonde bob into a frenzy. She looked down the lines of people outside of various clubs. She rushed to the person at the front of the line.
“I need to borrow your phone.”
The stuck-up millennial looked at Ellie like she was crazy.
“Phone,” Ellie repeated. “I need to call the cops.”
The millennial was hesitant in pulling out her phone and surrendering it to Ellie. She swiftly dialed 9-1-1. When the operator answered, Ellie told them to come to the Jackrabbit quickly because the murderer of Kimberly, Pamela, and the others was inside. Before the operator could ask Ellie for her name, she hung up.
Peaches burst through the door behind them and came to a staggering stop, where he rested his palms on his knees. “Everyone okay?”
Ellie looked herself over, making sure there weren’t any wounds that she didn’t feel yet. She was clean. Her clothes were sweaty but undamaged. Paul was uninjured but in shock.
Ellie brushed a sweat-soaked bang away from her brow. Her hands were shaking from the close encounter.
“Did you see him?” Ellie asked.
Peaches replied, “After you grabbed Paul, he was gone. I thought he followed you, but he must’ve slipped out the back. To have him attack in a public place like that means he’s much more desperate than we thought.”
“I agree,” Ellie replied. “Let’s find somewhere else to talk. I don’t want to risk him coming back. Oh, and I contacted the police. They are on the way too.”
Paul’s eyes were wide and he mumbled to himself. Ellie took him by his upper arm. “Come on.”
Paul turned to her. His face was stark white and his voice was shaky. “I saw his knife. He was coming after me, wasn’t he? Why?”
“I’ll explain later,” Ellie said, looking down both sides of the street. No sign of the cops yet, but they would be here soon. “We need to move.”
Peaches nodded in agreement and asked Ellie if she could drive. Ellie already had the key out. They drove to Peaches’s house while being bombarded with questions from Paul: What did you do to piss off a serial killer? Was he responsible for the stitches on your face? Where did he come from? Why are you chasing him? How did you know I would be in the nightclub? Where is Troy?
Instead of answering all of these, Ellie found it much easier to show him. They hiked into the living room of the small house and looked over the mural on the floor.
Paul walked around the mural, bouncing his eyes from the death portrait to his sister, and back again. “You made this?”
Ellie crossed her arms over her chest and chewed on her thumbnail. Without looking directly at him or blinking, she nodded. “And four others.”
“Why?” Paul said.
Peaches and Ellie exchanged looks. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m all about long stories when my life is on the line,” Paul replied. “Spill it.”
Ellie gestured for the couch pressed against the wall. “Have a seat.”
Paul planted his feet. “I think I’ll stand.”
Ellie started with her return to Northampton after her honeymoon, she told him about Kimberly’s portrait, then failing to save Pamela, and keeping Andrew from harm. She told him about her original theory behind the murder, where she thought the killer was an angry competitor. Then, she told him about her latest theory: that Andrew and his high school friends hurt someone really bad, and now someone wanted justice. Ellie prevented the hooded man from getting the justice he wanted. Now, he had decided to target her and those near her. What this had to do with the death portraits and the development of Ellie’s power, she did not know. But, her only hope to find answers was through encountering this man.
By the time Ellie had gone over her first shootout in apartment 42A, Paul was seated on the sofa with his jaw slightly slack. When she finished, Paul looked at her with a stupid expression as he tried to process the information.
“Now you can ask questions,” Ellie said.
Paul scratched the side of his head and glanced at the mural. “He’s coming after Mom and Dad, too?”
The question filled Ellie’s heart with dread. “He’s coming after all of us.”
Paul rested his face in his palms.
Ellie and Peaches exchanged looks, unsure what to do with him. Immediately, Ellie regretted telling him. What if he was only depressed because he thought Ellie was crazy? What if he planned on calling the cops?
Ellie slowly approached, as if nearing a terrified animal. “Do you believe me?”
<
br /> Leaving his face buried in his palms, Paul nodded. He sniffled and looked up at her with a weary smile. “Ellie, if I wasn’t one of the many soon-to-be victims, this would be the coolest moment in my life.”
“That I draw people’s murders?” Ellie scoffed.
“Hey, it’s something. Every guy dreams of having superpowers, and you have them,” Paul replied.
Superpowers. Ellie thought, laughing internally. She wasn’t stronger, she wasn’t faster, she was just an artist. One that painted some very disturbing things. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “If we leave now, we can get to Mom and Dad’s before daybreak.”
Paul raised a finger. “One more question. How does this hooded man keep finding you? I mean, he seems to show up wherever you go.”
Ellie had been so caught up in trying to prevent the murders that she never paid much attention to the killer’s coming and goings.
Peaches smiled at Paul, agreeing. “I’ve had the same question since the start of this investigation. In his apartment, 42A, he happened upon us by chance. The forensics team, Skinner, and I searched the place up and down looking for hints of his identity or DNA, but he had kept the place clean. If I had to compare to something, it was like a full-sized doll house, countless mannequins and Christmas lights being his decor.”
Ellie interjected. “Same with the barn in Lancaster. He had different mannequins set up in the stalls.”
“Lancaster?” Paul asked. “Is that why you came home?”
Ellie glared at her brother. “I explained that to you two minutes ago. The answer is yes. I was following up on a murder that happened last year.”
After a lull in the conversation, Peaches continued what he was saying. “The killer must’ve followed Ellie to her parents’ house during that trip. That’s how he was able to find her at the old oak on Willoughby. We followed his invitation to the bar on Riverside, which proved to be a disastrous mission to save Troy. Tonight was the only real time his appearance was unexpected. Either he followed Ellie and me again, or he followed you.”
Stolen Secrets: A Collection Of Riveting Mysteries Page 27
