Mitch nodded and grabbed the bottle.
"Thought you weren't going to drink anymore!" I said.
"Last one, I promise!" he said, grinning.
My brother and I left. He took his sweet time, limping all the way, but I was happy he could walk. Stepping outside the bay door, I breathed in the night air, and it felt amazing. As a card-carrying Tough Bitch, I had to admit, Edward scared the shit out of me. I did not think I would experience this again. Ever.
We found Janice, dead. Her body lay next to the car, with a broken neck. Glass shards inside told us that Edward broke the window, pulled her out and killed her. He must have exited while Henry and Mitch were entering the warehouse. Maybe made them as cops. Upon seeing her, he got angry at her for bringing cops to his warehouse, then killed her.
Henry said, “She told us how to get here. She killed my victim at Barry's apartment complex. She was no innocent person."
"You going to be in trouble for this? Her death?"
Henry scoffed. "No way, Mitch and I will come up with something. Mitch is good at that shit. Janice Gilseg admitted to the murder of Caitlyn Meadows at her apartment, and was friendly with Edward Rawlings, a serial killer. She wanted to help us so we could help her get a lesser sentence." He paused.
"That might work," I said.
"Chloe, listen, I was—"
I looked over at him. "You what?"
"You didn’t tell us the address in your messages and I was so scared. I really thought he killed you. I thought I lost you forever.”
"Sorry brother, I should have left here after Kathleen showed me the place, and went home. Watched TV or something." Still kicking myself for how I handled all this; I was lucky to be alive. Over the next few days I needed to reflect on the mistakes I made tonight. My plan now, was to stop by Whataburger on the way home and get myself a double-meat cheeseburger—mustard, cheese, and pickles only—with fries, no drink. Once home, I'd watch Rick and Morty, eat my burger, and contemplate life in general. When my head hit the pillow in a few hours, I would only think about how I stopped another monster. Nothing else, because nothing else matters besides killing monsters.
Henry stared at me and smiled. “You know, when Janice first met Edward for the first time, she and Barry filmed him torturing a woman then killing her on a iPhone.”
Barry! He would have to wait.
Somehow it was some psychological reason why serial killers had groupies, but I'd never understood it. “Awesome! I'm glad he killed her then.”
He nodded. “You better leave, hermana."
I nodded. “Yep.”
“See you later, right?”
Winking at him, I gave him a hug. “Yes, of course."
He glanced at the warehouse and pointed. “You know, thanks to you, Houston is safer. One less psychopath to deal with.”
Safer? I shrugged and left.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Coming up with a lie
TWO DAYS LATER
BRUISED and bandaged, Henry lay in the hospital bed.
Mitch looked only marginally better.
My brother told me that he told Julie not to let the kids see him in his current physical state, but she would not have any of it. "The kids need to see their father, and I don't give a shit how you look. It's the truth, we don't ever hide the truth from them, period!"
The story, what Henry and Mitch told to the responding investigators at the scene, did not mention meeting with me that night. Once they found Caitlyn's phone in Janice's apartment, and subsequently taking her confession, Janice told them about Barry Olsen's cousin. Barry, her boyfriend, and Edward Rawlings recorded the torture and murder of dozens of women. HPD was still working to ID all the victims and was working with the FBI to find anyone who may have purchased any of the videos. In a span of thirty hours, FBI had tracked down seven men in European countries that purchased snuff films from Edward Rawlings. Barry Olsen was in the wind. All of this because Janice Gilseg wanted to make a deal for leniency. It was why she was on scene. Mitch took credit for finally killing Edward Rawlings. Brutal as his death was, it was the only way Inspector could subdue the perpetrator. Since Janice was dead, coming up with a lie to cover them was easy. Well, part lie and part truth; those were the best kinds of lies—ask any politician.
Record number of cops showed up at the crime scene. Word spread quickly. Many wanted to see the size of Edward Rawlings and his lair. Although they were a weird minority, cops were people too.
Uniforms and suits stood outside their room, in the hallway. As I passed, all of them smiled at me, asking if they could help me, but Mitch yelled at them to leave me alone. First, I spotted Henry lying in his bed. Over all, he looked a lot better than the last time I saw him, at the warehouse. Cuts were healing and the bruising had lost some of its purple. His left arm, the one Edward smashed against the table, was now in a cast. His doctor told him that he would be be able to go home in a few of days.
Mitch was in for for longer. Wrapped in a cocoon of gauze, he laid in the next bed over with half-open eyes. The doctor told him that he had four broken ribs. Several of the cuts he had needed stitches. And both men sustained concussions. Over time, all of their wounds would heal. They would be back at work in no time.
"Hey Chloe, about time you come to see me," Mitch said, smiling. Looked like the drugs were working. "I've been waiting for you to come take advantage of me in my vulnerable state. All I ask is please take it easy on me, and my safe word is giraffe."
Chuckling, I stopped at his bed first and he opened his eyes wider, gazing into mine. I took hold of his hand and squeezed. If it were not for him and my brother, I would not be here. I gave him a peck on the forehead.
I stood upright and asked "So, did your guys find anything more on Rawlings?"
Mitch nodded. "Oh yeah! They found eleven more thumb drives in a hidey-hole in his home. The thumb drives contained seventeen of his best hits. All the movies starred Edward Rawlings with all kinds of women. He did not discriminate. Black. White. Asian. Fat. Skinny."
Henry chimed in. "It's still a little early, but they were able, with facial recognition software, to ID nine of the women so far. They are hopeful about closing as many as thirty cases, going back over ten years."
I walked to the other side of my brother's bed. The hand rail was down so I sat on the side of the mattress, next to his leg. I gently placed my hand on his knee. He seemed to be relaxed. "What's up, Henry?"
"Do you know how me and Mitch look now at HPD?" my brother said.
"No."
Mitch grinned. "Yes, we are fucking heroes, their words not mine, but I do agree with them."
Henry held up his cast. "Heroes!"
"Our lieutenant met us here that night. Everyone was impressed, when pictures of the crime scene were passed around. We stopped a serial fucking killer. Definitely one of the most prolific ones in history."
I cringed, not wanting to think of her. "What about Julie and the kids? They coming back?"
Henry shook his head. "I didn't say anything about you being there, Chloe. She knows what I do, and I might die any day. I believe she's made her peace with that."
I doubted that my sister-in-law had made her peace with him dying, but I let it go. I did not want to show one ounce of negativity right now. Henry needed to positive energy and lots of rest.
There was something that I needed to get started on. Something of great importance. "Okay, I guess that's enough lovin' from me today. You two need to rest.”
Mitch's face deflated. "Aw, come on stay for little bit longer. I'm tired of only talking to cops. Plus, you're easy on my eyes. Believe it or not, you're helping my recovery just by being here!"
Grinning, I was about to repeat myself when Henry’s kids, Heather and Hascal, entered the room with the biggest and most beautiful smiles any two humans could have.
"Aunt Chloe!" Hascal said, running to me and wrapping his arms around me. Heather did the same.
Eventually, Julie enter
ed the room, holding two white paper bags. "We brought doughnuts!” With her long dark brown hair and flawless skin, Julie was as beautiful as ever. Heather was a mini version of her mother, and Hascal reminded me so much of Henry the older he got. Julie and I hugged. I caught a glimpse of Mitch, and the salacious smile on his face told me he was imagining something naughty.
Hascal walked over to Mitch's side. "Look, Mitch, we brought doughnuts! You want one? We have all kinds."
"Of course, little man. Doughnuts are like medicine. They will help me and your dad get better!" he said.
The kids loved Mitch, he was good with them. Once, Heather had secretly told me that she though he was so handsome. She made a face and giggled. "Uh, doughnuts aren't like medicine. Medicine doesn't taste good!"
Leaning over, I whispered, "Guess I'll stick around for a little while longer!"
Chapter Thirty-Three
I shot his the other foot
TWO WEEKS LATER IN EL PASO, TEXAS.
As I entered the parking lot, I saw that it was too big for the diner.
Parked near the front, I got out, pistol in its holster under my blouse. A trickle of sweat ran down my chest, between my breasts. Scratching the spot with an index finger, I brought my eyes up. Although I had shades on, I winced from the bright sun. It was still Texas; the sun was bright here.
Cloudless, the blue sky had a calming effect. It was going to be a great day. Not many cars occupied the parking lot. I closed the car door and clicked the lock button on the electronic key.
I entered the dinner. With no other customers in the place, I had my choice of seats. I chose the booth furthest from the door. From my vantage point, the entire diner was visible; I'd be aware of his entrance. The diner was old, but welcoming. It could seat up to thirty people. The place had a minimalist seventies feel.
A waitress moseyed over to my booth. As she slid a menu onto the table, she asked, "Something to drink, sweetie?" Her big eyes stood out from the other facial features-a pretty woman.
"A glass of water and a coffee, please."
"Yes, ma'am, I'll be right back." She walked away.
Glancing at my phone I saw the time: 4:02 pm. My intel said that the man came in around five pm daily—for dinner. People were creatures of I arrived early to get my pick of tables. Plus, I was starving; I could eat an entire side of beef.
Opening my purse, I pulled out an old paperback book, a science fiction novel, written by L. Neil Smith. One of the main characters was an intelligent squid from outer space. The waitress returned with a tray, containing a cup of coffee, a glass of water, and a small container of creamer. On the table's edge sat a small plastic square sugar container full of Sweet and Low and Equal.
I read her name tag: LILLY. "Thank you, Lilly."
Pulling out a notepad and pen, she smiled at me. "You are welcome. You ready to order, Sweetie?"
"Yes, I am starving," I responded. ”How about the roast beef sandwich? Is it very big?"
“Yes, it's kind of big." She paused, demonstrating how big it was with both hands. "About this size."
My eyes narrowed. "Hmmm."
"Comes with fries," Lilly added with a half-smile.
"Yeah, okay, sounds tasty. I want to order that!"
She wrote on her pad. "Coming right up!" She grabbed the menu and walked off.
Opening my paperback, I was catapulted into outer space.
Four minutes later Lilly brought out my food. I ate three-quarters of the sandwich and half the fries. I was hungry and could easily have eaten all of it, but I didn't want to be bloated when I made my move.
My throat felt dry just as she refilled my water.
"Thank you," I told her.
"No problem, Sweetie. Any room for dessert?"
Glancing at my watch I noticed it was getting close to five. "You have ice cream? Vanilla?" There was always room for ice cream.
She smiled. "Yes, we do have that. An order of vanilla ice cream?"
Nodding, I winked at her. "Thanks, Lilly!" I shifted my weight, grabbing the paperback, and once again placing my elbow on the table. Thirty-seconds later, he walked into the diner. He looked just like his driver's license picture. Perhaps a little bigger than I had expected. He had a slight limp, most likely caused by carrying an extra fifty pounds.
I came fully loaded. Four knives on my person, no spikes on my boots, but they were steel-toed, brass knuckles, a pistol on my hip, and a Taser. Two more handguns lay hidden in my car. One inside a secret compartment inside the driver's side door, the other lay hidden in the trunk.
The ice cream came, and I dug in, savoring every bite. I got another refill on my coffee. Taking my time with the ice cream, I read another few pages of my novel. Such a great book. I would have to tell my brother about it. Another man entered the diner. Since the last time I saw him in Houston, he’d shaved his head and looked a little thinner. He was the real reason for being here. He did not recognize me with my sunglasses, and makeup which distorted my facial features, and blonde wig with red streaks.
"Can I get you anything else, Sweetie?" Lilly asked, her voice still perky.
Glancing up into her doe eyes, I said, "No ma'am, I'm good thanks, I'm stuffed. I'm just going to hang out for a little and read my book."
She looked at the book and made a face. "Is that an alien drinking a beer with a human on the cover?" she asked innocently.
"Yeah it's science fiction."
She positioned herself to get a better look at the cover. "Oh, wow! Is it any good?"
“Yeah, I've read a few of this author's books and he's never disappointed me."
Lilly nodded at me. ”Okay, enjoy your book!" Leaving me, she walked over to the newcomers, asked them something then disappeared into the back.
At the moment, the only occupants in the diner were: Lilly, the cook, the two men, and me. My eye twitched. I'd watched them for days now; I was ready to take them. Placing my book back in my purse, I pulled two twenties out of my billfold and placed them on the table. I got up and walked. As I passed them, neither man glanced my way. I left the diner.
Five cars, including mine, occupied the parking lot. Mine. Two belonged to the cook and Lilly. The last two belonged to the two men inside. They parked next to one another, against the fence that ran along the side of the diner's property's line. I got in my car and moved it over to be near their cars. I backed it in. Excited, I moved to the rear of my car and popped the trunk. Thick plastic sheets lined the entire inside nicely.
Hidden in the corner, under a rag, another pistol lay at the ready. I didn't need it but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Grabbing it, putting it in my waistband, I got back into my car. I turned it on and left the AC running. It was hot outside.
Twenty-six minutes later the men came out and headed in my direction. From the road, a red Ford truck approached. If it turned into the parking lot, I’d have to abort. This would be clean. But the Ford kept going.
As they approached, I turned. Adorned with bug-eyed sun glasses, I smiled. Once they were in distance, I said, "Hi, could one of you strong men help me with this? I'm such a weakling!" If neither were a gentleman, I'd let it go and wait until another window. But I didn’t have to bother with that scenario. Both men smiled at me as they approached.
"I'm sorry to bug you guys. I'm so weak."
The man—the one I was not here for—stepped forward. The other stayed back. Quickly, I pulled it out. Pushing it into the neck, I Tasered him. His body tensed, becoming a statue. He fell face first into the trunk, his legs dangled.
The other one quickly approached. "What happened to him?"
A look of horror appeared on my face. “I don’t know! He just fell!”
He moved in closer.
Dropping the Taser on the pavement, I pulled out my pistol from my waistband. A suppressor was screwed in at the end of the barrel.
Pointing it at him, I ordered, "Get in the fucking trunk or I’ll shoot you in knee!”
His eyes swelled. "Wh
at?"
Taking one step forward, I aimed at his crotch, and said, "Get the fuck in the trunk or I will shoot your dick off!”
He raised his hands in supplication. "Okay! Don't shoot me!"
"Push your buddy all the way inside!"
He grabbed the other guy's legs and pushed them deeper into the trunk. Then he stood, waiting for further instructions.
"Now get inside."
He did.
Before I shut the trunk, he reached up and asked me, "Who the hell are you?"
One hand rested on the trunk door, my other hand clenching the pistol grip, aiming it at his crotch. It took all my will power not to shoot him. I remembered the first time I saw him in his doorway. With that dirty white robe and stained boxers, he disgusted me. I'd been waiting for this moment since I was strapped down to Edward's table and heard his voice over the speakers. I leaned in and said, "I'm offended you don't remember me."
As I removed the sunglasses, Barry Olsen's eyes beamed at me; his mouth hung agape. Utter confusion appeared across his face. I scanned the immediate area to see if anyone was looking, but no one was around.
"Rose? How di—" He stopped talking when I punched him in the nose.
He yelled out. “Fuck!”
"Stop crying, I didn’t hit you that hard.”
“How did you find me?”
“Your mother. When Edward told me that she lived down the street from him, I figured it wouldn't be hard to find her. And since you're such a mommy's boy, I knew she would be a great source of information."
He looked at me incredulously.
"She's a nice lady. And chatty, loves to gossip, especially when you bring her coffee.”
He grimaced. "You talked to my mother?"
“Yes. She told me enough to find you.”
He said nothing.
“In case you’re curious, she's still alive, Barry."
“I don’t care, she’s lived too long in my opinion.” Barry shrugged, shaking his head. "Who killed Edward?"
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