by Ann Mullen
“What do mean? What’s going to happen that I won’t be able to reach Billy?”
“Jesse, anything could happen. Just keep your eyes open.”
Billy pulled his truck in front of Jonathan’s and then the two of them inched their way up to the bend in the road. We were just close enough for me to see the houses, but not close enough for anyone to notice us. We hoped.
Billy kissed me on the lips and said, “I’m leaving the keys, so if this breaks loose, I want you to drive this truck right through the front door.”
“What do you mean, breaks loose?”
“If you hear gunshots, call the sheriff and then come after us.”
“Okay,” I said, weakly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go? I could…”
“I need to be able to count on you, `ge ya. Promise you’ll do as I ask.”
“I promise,” I whispered.
Billy and Jonathan crawled out of their trucks and had disappeared into the woods before I even had time to slip over into the driver’s seat. I looked around and scanned the area. All the houses were average single-family ranchers—starter homes designed especially for just that—starting a family. Yet, the killer who lived in the blue house had no intention of starting a family. He was on a killing rampage that I was sure would leave him dead… eventually. At least, that’s how I summed up his life and his future. He obviously had a death wish. He probably was so unhappy with the way his life had turned out, and the fact that his own father had rejected him, that he just didn’t care anymore. Or did he? What was his story? I had this nagging feeling that he felt he not only had a reason to kill, but enjoyed it. It was a game to him. He quietly broke into our house, knocked me out, and then left without taking anything or killing anyone. What was that all about, if not a game? The message he whispered when he bent down close to my ear convinced me the man could be capable of anything.
Being left alone in the truck and not being with Billy gave me the willies. I didn’t like the idea of him going into a dangerous situation without me. We are a pair and needed to be together. What was I thinking when I agreed to his demands? I have a keen sense and can tell when there’s danger lurking about. I could be a big help. I should be with my husband.
I forced myself to stop thinking like that. I had made a promise to Billy and I was going to keep it. If he needed me, I would know. I made up my mind that I would sit here and do nothing, except keep watch. As much as I didn’t like it, I did it anyway.
I had been sitting in the truck for about ten minutes and was beginning to get cold. It was just a few degrees below freezing outside, so it didn’t take long for the truck to lose the warmth inside the cab. I thought of turning on the ignition long enough to heat it up inside, but then decided against it. The exhaust from the tailpipe might be seen. No, I would stay here and freeze to death before I would give us away.
Then… I heard a gunshot. I looked up just in time to see someone limp out the front door and down the walkway to the black pickup truck. The man jumped into the truck and backed out of the driveway onto the road. His tires spun as he fishtailed up the road and out of sight. This happened in less than a minute, but long enough for him to get away.
I was so stunned and caught off-guard, it took a few seconds for me to get it together. When I did, instead of calling the police, I started the truck and punched the gas pedal. The truck skidded into the driveway and managed to come to a stop intact, without running into anything. I shoved the gear into park, reached down into my purse on the floor, and pulled out my 9MM. Then I pushed the door open. I slid out, holding onto the door handle as I did, and then slammed the door shut. I took off running, slipping and sliding as I went, gun in hand as I followed the trail of blood droplets up the porch steps. I kicked open the front door like a madman and stood poised, my gun pointing straight out in front of me. My hands were trembling, and my heart raced. I had no idea what to expect… and it didn’t matter. I was here to save Jonathan and Billy.
Jonathan ran up to me and said, “Everything’s okay, Jesse. You can put the gun down. We have the situation under control.”
“Where’s Billy?” I asked, looking around the room. I hung my head for a brief minute and closed my eyes. My head hurt and I felt as if I was going to faint. The room got dark, but I held on and managed to stay with it. When I raised my head, I saw Billy walk out of a bedroom with his huge arm wrapped tightly around Wayne Avery’s neck. He dragged the young man along with him as he walked toward me.
“Thank God, you’re all right,” I raved, jumping around like a chicken with its head chopped off. “I heard the gunshot and saw a man run out of the house.”
I wanted to run up to Billy and throw my arms around his neck, but under the circumstances, I decided that I’d better wait until he had Wayne Avery handcuffed to a chair.
“That man’s my uncle,” Wayne Avery shouted. “Your Injun buddy here shot him.”
“That Injun is my husband and you had better not call him that,” I hissed at him. “I’m the only one allowed to call him that. You… you don’t deserve to even say his name… you killer!”
Billy smiled at me and held onto Wayne as Jonathan walked over and slapped the handcuffs on the young man. He grabbed the handcuffs in the middle and dragged Avery over to a chair by the window. He shoved him down in it, and then pulled out his cell phone. He called the Greene County Sheriff’s Office and made an anonymous call, telling them where they could find their fugitive.
“One down and one to go,” Jonathan said as he closed up his cell phone.
The boy was angry and began to yell. “He had me in a chokehold. He almost broke my neck. He tried to kill me.”
“I doubt that very seriously,” I said, looking at him. “If that had been the case, trust me, son, you’d be dead. Gee, wouldn’t that make our job easier?”
“I want a lawyer,” the kid screamed. “I know my rights.”
“You’re lucky you’re going to jail and not have to suffer the wrath of the Blackhawk brothers. That’s not something you want to have to deal with. I’ve seen their ire. It’s not a pretty sight.”
I taunted the kid. I walked over to him and just stared at him.
“I’ll be right back,” Jonathan said. “I’m going to get my tie-wraps, so I won’t have to leave a perfectly good set of handcuffs behind. Once I get my Humvee, we’re getting out of here.”
I backed my way over to Billy. I wasn’t about to let Avery out of my sight. I grabbed Billy’s hand and held onto it as Jonathan walked out the front door. We listened to Wayne Avery spew forth his lies.
“I’m innocent,” he swore. “Eric made me go with him when he burned down your brother’s house and when he killed those two people down the road. I didn’t want to go, but he forced me. He said I should help him avenge my father.”
“And I guess he made you go with him when he killed your psychiatrist, huh? Did he make you watch him murder the man who had tried to help you?”
“He did. Finally, someone knows the truth! You believe me, don’t you?”
I walked back over to him, leaned over and got right up in his face. “Sure, I believe you, kid. I believe every word you say.”
I got a whiff of his breath, stepped back and stared at him in shock.
“Liar!” he screamed. “All of you are liars. I should’ve killed you this morning when I had the chance.”
It was then I realized that I had been wrong about there being two killers. Wayne was the one, but where did Eric fit into this scenario?
“That’s right, `ge ya! Isn’t that what your half-breed hubby calls you?” He looked up at Billy and asked, “Hey, Injun, what does that mean? Tell me something. Is she good in bed? I mean, she isn’t much to look at. She’s way too skinny. I don’t know what you see in her.”
My anger was beginning to get the best of me. He could call me all the names in the world that he wanted to, but I refused to stand by and let him talk down to Billy, calling him hurtful names. He was not
hing but a punk kid with bad manners. I could see that now.
“How’s your head? I bet it hurts like a big dog.” He laughed out loud in a menacing way. His eyes bored a hole in me. He smiled when he saw the surprised look on my face. “That’s right. I was in your house this morning. I wanted to slit your throat to finish you off, but I decided to save that for later. You got lucky this time, but you won’t be so lucky next time. Next time, I’ll kill you and your snot-nosed little brats.”
“You’ll never get a chance.” I smirked. “You and your loser uncle are going to spend the rest of your lives behind bars, unless you get the death penalty, which is highly likely since you murdered someone in the commission of a felony… and it was premeditated.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been in trouble until I moved to this God-forsaken dump.”
“That’s a big, fat lie and you know it. Liar!”
“Shut up!”
“We know all about your past and your grandfather, the judge. He’s the one who cleaned up after you every time you got into trouble with the law. He’s the one who kept you out of jail. But he’s dead now. He can’t help you anymore. You’re going to have to stand accountable for your crimes. You’re going to do some serious time, if you don’t get the death penalty.” I looked over at Billy and then back to the kid. “I hear the D.A. is hot to see you have a needle stuck in your arm, and then watch you die!
“Even if I made it to court, the judge would let me off with a stiff warning. They don’t give people my age the death penalty. You wait and see. You’re just trying to scare me.”
“Who’s been telling you that—your precious uncle who just ran out on you? Boy, are you in for a rude awakening. You’re such an idiot. Don’t you keep up with the news? The courts have sent kids a lot younger than you to prison for life. Don’t think they’d hesitate to give you the needle.”
“All I did was watch. I didn’t kill anyone, and I’m not the one who struck the match to the fire… either time.”
“Liar! God, you’re such a liar! I can’t believe that I actually thought you might be innocent. Liar! Liar!”
“Don’t call me that!”
I could tell that Wayne Avery hated to be called a liar. I could see it in his face. This gave me something to use against him. I figured that if I called him a liar long enough, he’d get mad and spill his guts. I was willing to give it a try.
“I bet you’re the one who killed your own mother. What did she do to deserve having a bunch of sleeping pills stuffed down her throat? The medical examiner found bruising around her mouth consistent with just such an act. How could you do that to your own mother?” I looked at Billy and asked, “What kind of person does that?” I looked back at the kid. “You deserve to die, you creep. You’re a killer… and a liar! Liar, liar, pants on fire!”
“She’s the one who deserved to die! She ruined our lives. She cheated on my father and broke his heart. He killed himself because of her!”
“Oh, well. Then by all means, she had to pay for what she did. She had to die.”
“Don’t patronize me. If you’re so smart, then why don’t you know she wasn’t my real mother?”
The look on our faces said it all. He had caught us off-guard. Obviously, the judge must’ve kept a lot of secrets since this was the first Billy and I had heard about a stepmother. No one else had said anything either.
“Ah, ha! I see that I know something you don’t! That’s right. My real mother died when I was little. My mother was good. Judy could never take her place! Judy was nothing but a lying, cheating whore. I hated her. She made a terrible mistake when she lied to the cops about my father. He never hit her. I should’ve killed her a long time ago.”
“I bet you killed your real mother, too. Did you stuff pills down her throat just like you did to Judy?”
“Shut up about my mother!”
I must’ve been pushing the right buttons, because his face was blood red and the veins in his neck were popping out. Another minute and he would tell all. I could feel it. I pushed on.
“Judy probably was having an affair with your uncle, too! That’s it! She was cheating on your father with your uncle!” I had no idea where I was going with this line of accusations, but it appeared to be working.
“You’re sick! My uncle would never do that to my father.”
“Why not? It’s not as if they were real brothers. They had different mothers. Your grandfather liked to sleep around. I bet you got more aunts and uncles out there that you don’t even know about. What a family! You know what they say: The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Do you have any brothers and sisters hiding out in the wood pile? Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know if you did.”
“I see what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work.”
“Oh… you didn’t know. My, my… the plot does thicken. You know, if you didn’t spend so much time being a liar, you might actually find out a few things. If you weren’t so busy sucking up to your no-good uncle, you might see the truth, and the truth is that he was sleeping with your mother right under your father’s nose. He lied to him and he lied to you. I guess it runs in the family. Your father was probably a liar, too.”
“Watch your mouth, you hateful…”
“Be nice to me, liar, or you’re going to regret it.”
“I know where your mother lives, and when I get loose, I’m going after her first.”
That hit a nerve. I started making up lies to goad Wayne.
“Your father was gay. Did you know that? That’s why he couldn’t keep a wife. That’s the real reason he killed himself. He didn’t want to see his son grow up to be like him. That’s right. He was so deep in the closet, it would’ve taken a backhoe to get him out.”
Wayne was beginning to drool like a mad dog. As cool as it was in the house, he was starting to sweat, and on the verge of losing it. My ploy was working. Dogging his father was too much for him to handle. Suddenly, he went off the deep end.
“I’ll do terrible things to your children before I kill them. You won’t even recognize them when I’m finished. I’ll torture your dogs and that pesky cat, and then I’ll finish them off by smashing in their skulls with a baseball bat. I’ll kill everyone in your family and leave their mangled bodies for you to see. I want you to suffer unimaginable anguish before I put you out of your misery.”
“I have news for you, punk-liar. I’m not the one here who’s miserable. To tell the truth, I’m kind of happy right now. We have you handcuffed, and pretty soon the cops will be here to take you away. Then you’ll fry.” I should’ve stopped there. Wayne Avery had told the whole story in front of Billy, and I was no longer the only one who had heard his confession. We had him dead to right.
“I’m going to kill your mother. I will get free. Then when you least expect it, you’ll get a phone call in the middle of the night saying that your mother was found tortured and murdered. I’ll plunge a knife so deep into her heart, it’ll come out on the backside.”
That was it. The vivid picture he painted in my head sent me into a tailspin. I was so full of rage that I hated Wayne Avery more than anyone or anything on Earth. I wanted to hurt him. No, I wanted him to die for what he said he’d do to my family.
I had spent so much time trying to set him off, that I didn’t see it coming. He hit a nerve when he explained in gory detail how he would kill Mom. That was the last straw. He would never pull off his threats if I had my say-so about it. Without hesitating, I walked over, grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him up out of his chair, and then slapped him hard across the face.
He fell to the floor. Blood ran down the corner of his mouth. He tried to stand, but only managed to pull himself back up in the chair.
I glanced down and caught a glimpse of his boots. Leatherneck was imprinted on the side.
Furious, I screamed, “You won’t live long enough for that, punk-liar!”
I pulled the gun from my coat pocket, aimed it direct
ly at his chest, and squeezed the trigger.
Chapter 21
Luckily, Billy grabbed the gun from my hand before I had time to get off a round. I had to sit down and catch my breath. An anxiety attack was on its way and this one was going to be a big one. When I thought about what I almost did, I started to hyperventilate. As I was trying to catch my breath, Jonathan ran in and went right over to the kid.
“What happened in here?” he asked as he picked the kid up off the floor and proceeded to take off the handcuffs.
“What are you doing?” I yelled. “Stop! He’s a killer! Don’t let him go!”
“I’m not letting him go.” Jonathan pulled out two long, plastic tie-wraps and bound the kid’s hands together. He dragged the kid to the kitchen, opened the bottom cabinet door under the sink, and tied him to the drain pipe with another tie-wrap. He dug into his pocket, pulled out something and tossed it to the floor by the kid. “Here,” he said. “You might want this medal back. You’ll need something to keep you company where you’re going.” He turned quickly and commanded, “Let’s get out of here before the sheriff arrives.”
Wayne Avery’s sinister laugh was unnerving. He yelled at us as we ran out the door. “My dad was a hero! He was better than all of you put together! You better watch out or that woman will write you out of the story altogether.” He laughed uncontrollably. “I’ll sneak up on you like I did with the psychiatrist. He didn’t see it coming when I put a bullet in his head.”
I turned and looked at him one final time. All I could think of was how could he be such a horrible person. If he was this bad at eighteen, what kind of maniac would he be when he reached thirty… if he lived that long? He gave a new meaning to the term—natural born killer.
The three of us high-tailed it out of the house, jumped into our vehicles, and hauled butt down the road just in time to pass the parade of deputies heading to the blue house on Little Creek Road.
“Where are we going now?” I asked, still shaky from the ordeal.
