Fire Flies

by Marie Marini

  Jesus texted me to say something happened at work and he would be slammed for at least a few days and wouldn’t be around. My first thought was “Thank God!” I needed a little space. Final exams were next week and I was behind in my study schedule. He was a distraction. I was very confused about how I felt about him. I liked him but I was scared sometimes. I didn’t need a new boy toy because I needed to get laid. I had Jesus for that. It was strictly about learning now. And ridding the world of another asshole. I wanted to experiment with skin. Really be able to see the different layers. See how different kinds of burns damage the tissue. This would be great for me as a nurse but also as a firefighter. I wanted to explore pain thresholds. In the movies you see people pass out with pain, does that really happen and what does it take? I had so many questions.

  Some of the students in my class were talking about signing up for a month oversees after the state exam. Getting experience working oversees in Haiti or the Dominican Republic with poor people at clinics and shit. I’d been around enough poor people to last a lifetime, but it would work as a good cover for Jesus while I worked on my new project.

  I was rethinking the pain patch idea. Meat was drunk and stupid and I got away with it, but who knows with my next subject? I was thinking about using GHB. Some body builders use it because it helps protein synthesis. It’s approved by the FDA to treat narcolepsy so I might be able to get my hands on some at the hospital. If not, you can buy this stuff on the internet. I wasn’t sure if I wanted something trackable, though. Maybe I could get a credit card in Sam’s name and use the trailer address for shipping. GHB is odorless, tasteless and known on the streets as Georgia Homeboy. I didn’t like that nickname. The original Georgia redneck asshole, Sam, would help me take down another redneck asshole so some other girl didn’t have to put up with their shit. Maybe it was time I used Sam. God knows he used me enough. My new plan was coming together, but I needed to get through my exams first.

  When I got back to work, I called and talked to Dave Barretta. He was still looking for Kris’s dad, Matthew Clay (58) and brother Sam Clay (35), last known to be living in Roswell, Georgia. I didn’t call him off, I wanted to find those bastards. I had a voicemail from the ME on the Peter Donovan case; the DNA from the fragments on the tooth were inconclusive. The DNA itself was chemically altered and therefore basically useless. I sighed and kind of zoned out for the rest of the message until my brain was snapped awake– Scene Clean XP. I replayed the message and then called the Medical Examiner. He had read the Mayhew case file and on a whim, ran some tests for Scene Clean XP. Peter Donavon’s mouth lit up like Christmas on the test. He then tested the rest of the body for the Scene Clean XP chemicals and it came up positive everywhere! The entire body had been wiped down with Scene Clean XP, paying special attention to the face, mouth, and genitals. This was too much of a coincidence. The spinal dissection and Scene Clean XP were enough for me to call my boss and tell him we might have a serial killer. There could be more bodies in the Everglades or any of the thousands of lakes and canals all over South Florida.

  I went over Bean’s head and went straight to the detective bureau captain. Murphy listened to me but didn’t share my enthusiasm or conviction that we had a serial killer on the loose. I know I had only been a detective for a year, but he could be so fucking condescending sometimes. Stubborn old goat just placated me. He said we needed at least three bodies before we could call it a serial and my commonalities were circumstantial at best. Fucker! As soon as we call it serial the FBI gets involved. Murphy just didn’t want the FBI guys here and the mayor on his ass. I knew I had something here so I called my old buddy John. Even though we disagreed about Kris, he was one of the best detectives I have ever known. Plus, now I could explain Kris’s weirdness, although I wasn’t sure if I would tell him about that. John didn’t sound too good when he answered the phone and seemed to struggle to catch his breath a few times during our conversation. It was near the end of the conversation that he told me he was diagnosed with lung cancer the month before. It was taking him fast, but he was fighting. I cursed myself for not reaching out to him sooner. I let the whole situation with Kris affect our friendship. I promised to visit him and bring the files for his opinion. We planned on Saturday afternoon. I loaded the files onto my laptop and at the last minute I added Kris’s file just in case it came up. I wanted to put that discussion to rest and stop allowing it to come between my mentor and the woman I loved.

  It was a shock to see John. He had lost weight. He was pale and gaunt. His spirit was diminished, that was the hardest. He was always this gnarly old curmudgeon. Even when he was much younger he had the attitude of an old man but he was funny with it. It was part of his image around the detective bureau. He enjoyed busting the young guys’ chops with stories of ‘back in the day’ and everyone knew it was just a game. He wasn’t one for shows of emotion, no hugs, no backslaps, no tears at retirement. When John took you under his wing, he wouldn’t be easy on you but he’d be fair and he would teach you everything he knew. That’s what he did for me. This time when I saw him, he hugged me, this bony old man hugged me and I could feel him shake with emotion. I was almost undone, and it took everything in me to not let him see that. What was happening to me? I had cried more this last week or two than I had in the past 10 years.

  John had a look at the file and asked questions. He kept coming back to the Scene Clean XP, just like I had at the beginning of all this at Darren’s apartment. John pointed out that to get your hands on Scene Clean XP you have to be Police, Crime Scene or an independent crime scene clean up company and there weren’t too many of those around. I knew that, but somewhere in the guts of the case, I hadn’t paid attention to that detail. Sometimes little details get lost in the weeds.

  John’s advice was to tread lightly but purposefully. There would be a lot of behind the scenes work on this one and I would have to keep it quiet. Only work with those you can trust completely, keep as much information to yourself as possible and suspect everyone. Even your boss. Wow. That was some pretty heavy advice. John was looking tired. We put the files aside. Teresa came in with some tea and sat with us. We chatted about the grandkids. John sighed deep in his bones and said: “You know what I miss?” I shook my head, no. “Fishing Jesus, I miss fishing. I can’t even take little Alan out anymore.” He missed fishing. This was something I could help with. I told him I would take the day off on Wednesday and come and take him fishing.

  I kept that promise. I had to lift John into the boat. It was awkward but we got there. Teresa came with us, there was no way she was leaving his side. We settled John down surrounded by pillows with a blanket over his shoulders and another over his scrawny legs. I drove the boat, baited the hooks and helped him reel in a couple of big mouthed bass. For a few minutes, I saw the old John shine through the mask he now wore. A tear slid down Teresa’s face. When we got back John had fallen asleep. I carried him into the house and put him to bed, leaving Teresa to get him settled while I cleaned the boat. As I was finishing up she came out and met me on the dock with a glass of iced tea. There was nothing for either of us to say. We drank our tea as we listened to the sounds of the water against the pilings and the seawall. Before I left, I hugged her and told her to call me. She called eight days later.

  John was gone.

  I took one shift off so I could have the whole week to study for finals. I was confident. I had put in the work and I had been using some practice tests to reveal my weak areas. I took flash cards to the gym and looked through them while I was on the stair machine or the elliptical. I printed off the information about the mission work and left it on the coffee table in case Jesus came over. I hadn’t seen him in a few days and I kind of missed having him around. He could be funny sometimes. I guess I was lonely without him. That was new for me. I had been so independent as a kid and as an adult. Jesus managed to sneak under my defenses. Like Tricia.

  I wanted to get started on my new lab
rat. I already had the credit cards in Sam’s name with the trailer address. He was approved for $500. There was a time when I thought that was a fortune. Funny how perspective changes with circumstances. But it was enough. I ordered the GHB and the expected delivery was a week after finals. Everything was falling into place.

  Between studying and the gym, I was too busy to think. That’s always my problem, I overthink so many things. I hadn’t had a panic attack since that night with Jesus, so I was finally feeling like I was getting some control over that too. If it hit me in the middle of the night I would go for a run. If I was at work in the station, I would hit the treadmill. Sometimes the guys would complain about hearing me pounding away on the treadmill at two in the morning. They never knew why. The bunks at the station are small rooms with no doors, just a curtain. There were nights I would wake up and hear them breathing and they just felt too damn close. If I worked out hard enough I could justify my heart jumping out of my chest and somehow my body could catch up with my mind or something and then I was ok. I only took the Xanax for emergencies, I didn’t like the grogginess it left me with.

  I had slacked a bit on studying, but I was sure I could get at least a B on the exam. I couldn’t apply for the state exam until after the grades posted for finals. Jesus had been good about staying away. He had called and told me some old guy he used to work with died and he was pretty cut up about it. He didn’t have to tell me about grief. He texted me every day and the day of finals I came home to a huge arrangement of flowers. The card read, “Congratulations Nurse Klein – You aced it!” It was sweet and although I wasn’t a girly girl, I did enjoy the neighbor’s face when she saw me bringing the flowers in from the front door. Nosy old cow was forever peeping out the window. I put them in a vase and displayed them in my front window for her to see. Thought you could rat me out to the cops did you? I thought. What do you think now that I have that same cop wrapped around my finger?

  I owed guys at work some time when I had exchanges lined up for school stuff over the past year so I took the chance to pay back that time. I might need more time for my lab rat.

  Jesus was really busy at work, some big case that was top secret. My grades posted and I got the B grade that I was hoping for. I went online and registered for the NCLEX state exam and got a date for the following month. Jesus was excited when I told him. He said he was looking forward to school being over so that we could spend more time together. I was getting a bit suspicious about him though; he still wouldn’t tell me what the big case was all about. The reason I took him on in the first place was for information so that was pissing me off.

  It was a week before the NCLEX and my house was a mess with study materials. I had flash cards on the fridge, taped to the back of the bathroom door, above the mirror in the bathroom. I even laminated some and taped them to the shower wall. I was completely consumed with studying but I needed to know what Jesus was working on.

  I invited him over and met him at the door wearing my white Lieutenant shirt and nothing else. I had a glass of his favorite red wine in my hand. Although I don’t like wine, I took a sip and kissed him deep, sharing the wine in my mouth. He didn’t have a chance. As we stumbled towards the bedroom he asked me not to use the restraints this time. I swallowed the anger bubbling up in me and smiled at him.

  “No restraints? Maybe next time, but this time I want to try some new stuff. Are you okay with that?”

  He was practically slobbering and he couldn’t hide the erection desperate to escape the confines of his clothes.

  “No pain, okay Kris? I don’t do pain. Other than that, you can do whatever you want.”

  I took him to the bedroom and then went to the closet and got a new shower liner. Tearing it from the package I spread it across the bed. “This might get a bit messy but it will be fun,” I promised. Jesus looked a little skeptical, maybe even a little scared, but we both knew he needed to get laid. I went to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of fruit, some whipped cream, the ice tray and spray canola oil. I took my time undressing him, I was so scared and my heart was racing. He wasn’t tied yet. When we were both standing naked, he touched me so gently, so softly, so slowly and my heart was bounding out of my chest.

  Jesus sighed with resignation when I put the straps on him but he didn’t complain. I played with the fruit and the ice cubes. I climbed up on his chest and put the whipped cream nozzle inside myself. It took a few tries to get the right angle to activate the spray. I moved up and he hungrily lapped at the cream as it warmed up and ran out of me.

  “I could do a much better job of this if I could use my hands.”

  He licked, nipped and sucked, manipulating me with his tongue and teeth until I came on his face. When I finally mounted him, he was so desperate that I didn’t think he would last too long, I was wrong. As I rode him faster and faster, tightening my thighs and contracting those little tiny muscles on the inside, I felt the moment he finally let go and I relaxed and let go too. We rode out the climax together. Those precious moments when every muscle tenses then relaxes. There is no thought, just feeling, this amazing feeling of electricity running through every part of you and time stands still. I just wish there was a way to feel like that for longer.

  He had been so good, I reached up and untied one of the restraints. It surprised him so much he didn’t move his arm for a minute. Then he pulled me in close to his chest and kissed my head. I wanted to get up so bad, but this was the moment he would tell me.

  “So what is this big case you are so secretive about?” I hoped I sounded casual.

  He groaned. “Do we have to talk about work right now?”

  I thought I had blown it but after a minute or two, he started to talk. “I just don’t want to upset you with it, Kris. It’s a really delicate situation and it goes back to Darren.”

  My heart jumped a little and I snuggled in closer to him, I reached to the bottom of the bed and pulled up the blanket to cover us, feigning a chill.

  “I can’t trust anyone Kris, I have to keep this super quiet. I think there’s someone on the inside. I think there is a serial killer out there and he is killing these guys and dumping them in water.”

  I had to play this right to keep him talking. I faked a yawn. “I’m over Darren. I was just upset at that funeral because it reminded me of my Dad. I’ve told you that. There was no me and Darren.”

  Jesus pulled me a little closer and rested his chin on my head. I was starting to feel trapped, but I needed to get more information.

  “Why do you think it’s a cop?” I tried to sound casual. He started talking like I knew he would. Slowly at first and then he warmed up to the conversation. I think I stopped breathing for a minute when he mentioned XP. Thankfully I kept it at the trailer and not here. He would never find it by accident. When he finally stopped talking, I had all the information I needed. They thought there was a serial killer out there severing spines and dumping guys in the water. They thought it was a guy and a cop or crime scene tech.

  “It’s just so hard to imagine that one of our own guys is responsible for this sick stuff. We have a clear MO but no idea what his motives are or why he’s targeting these particular guys.” He was clearly frustrated. “My Captain is being a dick and won’t call in the FBI. He refuses to call it a pattern. Says he needs at least three bodies.”

  I gently patted his oily chest. “Well after all that disturbing after-sex talk you think we should get cleaned up? It’s pretty sticky.” He laughed and said a shower together might be fun. I had all the close contact I could handle for a while. “But then I couldn’t tie you and have my wicked way,” I answered. I climbed over him trying to keep the mess contained in the shower curtain and the blanket. “Don’t go anywhere” I said over my shoulder as I headed for the shower.

  That was all good news for me, I was the last person on the radar. They were targeting a man and a cop or crime scene tech. The news about the
FBI was a bit intimidating but I wasn’t worried. This news made it clear, though, that I really only had one more chance to learn from a lab rat. I would have to learn as much as I could.

  When I was clean, I went back to the bedroom and released Jesus. He didn’t look happy that I left him tied like that, but I had needed a minute to think. I cleaned up the mess while he cleaned up himself. He was smiling when he came out of the bathroom. He was teasing me about my flashcards everywhere when he saw the printed info about the mission on the table.

  It had been a tough couple of weeks. I was processing all that I now knew about Kris, then John’s death had rocked me. I was working hard trying to put the pieces together on my serial killer. The only things I could find in common with these two men were their approximate age, Scene Clean XP, and that they had severed spines and were fed to gators. I was doing all the boring dead-end leg work on the Scene Clean XP angle. How many companies in South Florida had a license to buy the stuff? How often did they buy it? Did they keep it locked up? How many people had access? What about other employees in the department, could they get access? It was slow and not very glamorous. This was the part of being a detective that the public didn’t understand. The hours and hours of research and dead ends hoping that somewhere in all that you find a little thread. Find a little loose end that will lead you to another discovery that eventually gives you some clue as to what the hell is going on and why. Sometimes we never find the thread. Sometimes it is a colossal waste of time.

  I hadn’t seen much of Kris. We went out to dinner a couple of times but she had to get back to studying and I had work to do. I admired her dedication, she worked so hard. Now that I knew what I knew, I understood the restrictions she put on herself. I understood why she had a hard time trusting people and letting people get close to her. I understood the restraints she insisted on when we were together. I just hoped that eventually I could convince her that I would never hurt her. I wanted so badly to caress her and treasure her. I wanted her to feel loved and cherished. I wanted to be the one that could do that for her. And I wanted to find her father and brother and make those fuckers pay. When finals were over and she was studying for her state exam she invited me to the house. I had been absent and distracted lately, barely finding time for dinner, so I decided it was ok to take a night off. I threw a change of clothes in my gym bag just in case, it had been a while and I was horny as a teenager.