All The Dead Girls

by Tim Kizer

  As he gazed at the photo, it occurred to him that there was one thing he hadn't taken into account: Mary could have shared with Don her suspicions about her husband’s past. If she had done so, Don, after learning about her disappearance, would report this information to the police. He might send them an anonymous letter where he would unmask Richard Brower as a brutal serial killer who had murdered a dozen people.

  Idiot. Why hadn’t he thought of Don? She must have told her lover everything.

  When Mary had spoken to Don on the phone the other day, she had said that she was afraid of him. She had said he would actually kill her if he found out about her infidelity. These words would acquire special significance after Mary was declared missing.

  What was Don going to do?

  Option number one: he goes to the police and tells them that Mary was killed by her own husband. The cops arrest Richard Brower and grill him for days. Then they put him on trial, after which he is sent to prison for twenty years.

  Option number two: Don forgets Mary and goes looking for another married woman to seduce.

  It was also possible that Don would decide to blackmail him.

  Richard felt a sour taste in his mouth. Blackmail. Oh God, there was so much greed in this world!

  If this asshole thinks I’m going to pay him, he’s got another thing coming, Richard thought.

  Richard hit the dresser with his fist and left the room.

  He must come up with a way to find this bastard.

  He racked his brain for half an hour, trying to devise a plan to catch Don. Unfortunately, no ideas were coming to him. After telling himself that he had plenty of time to solve this problem, Richard decided to relax, and lay down on the sofa in the living room. At half past midnight, he grabbed the phone and dialed Bob's number: it was time to start building an image of a worried husband.

  Bob answered after two rings. He didn’t sound like he had been asleep.

  "Hi, it's Richard.” Richard’s voice was full of anguish and exhaustion. Hopefully, Bob Logan noticed that.

  "Hey, Richard, how is it going? Is everything okay?”

  "I’m calling about Mary," Richard said in a tragic tone. "I think she’s gone missing. She hasn't been home since Saturday. I’m afraid something bad happened to her. I don't know what to do."

  "Mary’s been missing since Saturday? Oh my God!” Mister Logan had finally noticed that his brother-in-law was talking about very serious things. "Richard, what happened to her?" Bob sounded genuinely anxious.

  What a stupid question. Hadn’t he made it clear that he didn’t know what had happened to Mary? Bob either had a problem with comprehension or had smoked too much pot today.

  Richard sighed. "I have no idea. She left home around noon on Saturday, and I haven't seen her since. I thought you might know where she was. I don’t want to panic prematurely, but… It’s been almost two days, Bob. I can’t just sit by and do nothing."

  "You’re right, we have to do something.”

  “When was the last time you saw Mary?”

  “Saturday evening she was at our place. She left around eight. She said she was going home.”

  “Have you heard from Mary since she left your place?”

  “No.” Bob paused. “Did you try her cellphone?”

  “Yes. She either broke it or turned it off. “

  “Where could she be?"

  "I have no clue. Where do you think she could be?"

  "I don’t know.” Bob let out a whimper. “She's been missing since Saturday. My God, it's horrible.” He sighed. “Has she called you since Saturday?”

  Richard covered the phone with his hand, and giggled. What a dumbass! Was Mary’s brother really that slow or was he simply fucking around?

  Or maybe he didn’t trust his deductive reasoning skills.

  Perhaps it’s a good thing, Richard thought. You know what say about people who assume…

  “No, she hasn’t,” Richard replied.

  “Maybe she’s staying at her friend’s place?”

  “I don’t think so. She would have told me."

  Bob sighed loudly. "What are you going to do?"

  "If Mary doesn’t show up by Wednesday morning I’ll report her missing.”

  “You want to wait till Wednesday?”

  “Yes. Who knows, maybe she’s with her friends."

  “Yeah. I guess we can wait one more day.”

  “Can you please ask Lisa if she’s heard from Mary?”

  “I’ll ask Lisa as soon as she comes home.”

  “Thank you, Bob.”

  Richard smiled. Fooling Bob turned out to be as easy as he had expected.

  He didn’t want to brag, but he had decent acting skills.

  “If Mary comes back or calls, please let me know,” Bob said.

  “Sure. I’ll keep you updated. Talk to you later.”

  “Goodbye, Richard.”

  Richard hung up and then began chuckling.

  He was one more step closer to the end of the Mary Logan chapter of his life.

  CHAPTER 6

  1.

  Richard had known he was not destined to refill the tank of his Maxima at that Chevron gas station on Route 377 seventy five miles north of Dallas as soon as he had seen it ahead.

  He was worried about witnesses and security cameras. Sean’s face would be seen and/or recorded if he looked out of the window or got out of the car.

  Richard knew exactly when the fight started. 3:11pm. It was at 3:11pm that his watch stopped after he accidentally hit it against the steering wheel. Sean pushed his left hand away, his wrist banged against the wheel and the watch broke. Richard retaliated by splitting Sean's eyebrow with his fist. It must be noted that fighting in a moving car, especially if you’re the one driving it, is a very challenging undertaking. But once a fight begins, you have to see it through to the bitter end.

  For the first few minutes, their battle resembled a bustle. They wheezed, fluttered their hands, gnashed their teeth, perspired, jostled, and squeezed each other’s arms. The fight became more thrilling when a knife appeared. The sight of the knife, which materialized out of thin air, did not frighten Richard. He was intent on killing this moron no matter what it took. He caught Sean's hand that was holding the knife, then glanced at the road to make sure he was not about to crash his car. While he was checking the highway, Sean managed to free his hand.

  He threw his fist at Richard's right cheek while simultaneously trying to stab Richard with the knife. Richard managed to block the knife; however, he made a slight miscalculation, and his hand closed around the blade instead of Sean’s wrist. Tears splashed from his eyes. He gripped the blade as tightly as he could, its sharpened edge cutting into his skin. His hand was on fire with pain; a thin trickle of blood came out from under his fingers. Still holding the blade, staring at Sean's puzzled face, Richard clenched his teeth and punched his opponent in the forehead. While Sean recovered from the blow, Richard let go of the blade and pulled the knife from Sean's hand. He didn’t get a chance to use the knife; he dropped it when Sean hit him in the ear.

  His eyes shifted to the speedometer. As he expected, the car was going at sixty miles per hour. Knowing that they were in a fast-moving vehicle should have motivated Sean to tone it down and start negotiating with him. To Richard's surprise, Sean kept swinging his fists, aiming at the vital points of Richard's body. Richard sensed that they were going too fast. A thought crossed his mind that it would have been great if the car slipped into a parallel universe and he didn’t have to worry about crashing. There was a dull thumping sound: the car ran over a slight bump in the road.

  Fortunately, even under such extreme circumstances, he retained the ability to think clearly.

  What was his objective? To neutralize Sean.

  Did he have any advantages? Yes, he did. He knew that there were handcuffs in the glove compartment. He’d been carrying them in his car for a couple of years now, believing that he may need them some day. The handcuf
fs could help him achieve his objective, but he had to hurry up because his Maxima was about to run out of fuel. His plan required that the car move at a high speed: only a fast-moving vehicle could flip over. Hopefully, Sean wouldn’t survive the crash.

  He gripped Sean's right wrist, pinned the man’s left forearm to the stomach with his elbow, then reached to the glove compartment and opened it. He furiously rummaged through the contents of the compartment, grabbed the handcuffs, and pulled them out. He felt no pain in his cut hand. Or rather, he sensed it, but it was not unpleasant. It inspired him.

  "You, fucker," Sean hissed.

  Richard was sure that the cuffs were open; he'd always left them open so he wouldn’t have to waste time unlocking them. He turned out to be right. He clutched Sean's left hand and put one of the handcuffs on the wrist. When he snapped the bracelet, Sean's right fist slammed into his forehead, pushing him back. Sean was growling like an infuriated wild boar, his clothing and face spattered with Richard's blood oozing from the fingers of his left hand. A moment later, Richard intercepted Sean’s left fist, which was headed for his jaw now. However, the right fist struck his solar plexus. Richard howled with pain, briefly losing focus. The pain disappeared as soon as he saw that Sean was trying to pick up the knife from the floor. As his opponent was groping under the seat, Richard grasped a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. Simultaneously, he delivered three blows to Sean’s throat with his fist.

  Taking advantage of Sean's momentary confusion, Richard seized the free cuff and slapped it on the steering wheel. Then he squinted at the road, saw a bridge ahead, and realized that he would soon have an opportunity to end the fight. He unfastened his seat belt and punched Sean in the nose as hard as he could. Then he opened his door, turned the steering wheel sharply to the right, and screwed up his eyes in anticipation of a crash. The crash occurred a few seconds later. The car smashed through the railing and went off the bridge. While the Maxima was in midair, Richard flung himself out of the vehicle. When his feet touched the water, he was praying it was deep enough to break his fall. He outstretched his arms and shut his eyes.

  The impact was not as painful as he had feared. The cold made him gasp. His pants rode up to his knees. From the corner of his eye he saw the Maxima enter the water with a massive splash. He bent his legs when his heels hit the slimy bottom. When he came to the surface, the front end of the car and most of its cabin were submerged.

  At first, he was going to linger near the car for about five minutes and then remove the handcuffs. He discarded this idea because he didn’t want to risk being detained by the police. There was no absolute need to get rid of the handcuffs: the vehicle was registered to a false name and could not be traced back to him.

  The Maxima sank completely long before he reached the shore. Ten minutes after he climbed out of the water, he was walking on the side of the road, headed south. There were no emergency or police vehicles in sight. When he got to Pilot Point, he called a taxi, which took him home.

  2.

  He was chewing a piece of chicken when he remembered Sean, a man in his early thirties, whom he had killed six years ago. He lived in Dallas at the time. He had met the guy at a golf course in Grand Prairie two weeks before he sent him to meet his maker. That afternoon they had been on their way to Sean’s cabin on Lake Texoma.

  He swallowed the meat, glanced around the restaurant, drank some water from his glass. When he picked up his fork, his cellphone rang. He checked the screen; it was Bob Logan. After a hesitation, he answered the call.

  “Richard, I have great news,” Bob said.

  “Shoot.”

  “I just spoke to Lisa. She says Mary called her this morning around ten o’clock.”

  It took Richard a few seconds to process Bob’s words and pinpoint what was wrong with Lisa’s story.

  “This morning?” he asked, frowning.

  “Yes, at a quarter past ten.”

  “Did Mary call Lisa’s cell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is she sure it was Mary?”

  “She has no doubt it was Mary.”

  Clearly, either Lisa or Bob was lying. Richard had no idea why.

  Richard thought for a long moment, and then asked, “What did Mary say?”

  “She said that she’d be out of town for a few days.”

  “Is that all she said?” Richard drew his eyebrows together.

  “She said she’d get in touch with Lisa later.”

  Richard rose from the table, walked up to the cash register, and asked for a pen and a piece of paper. The cashier provided him with both.

  “What number did she call from?” Richard said into the phone.

  “We think she called from a payphone. Do you want the number?”

  “Yes.”

  Richard wrote down the number and said, “Thanks for talking to Lisa.”

  He headed back to his table.

  “No problem. Now we know Mary’s alive.”

  “Can I speak to Lisa?”

  “She’s at the gym. I’ll ask her to give you a call when she comes back.”

  “Yes, please do that.”

  Richard sat down, took a gulp from his glass, held the water in his mouth for a few moments, and then swallowed it.

  He could use Lisa’s story to his benefit: it would lead the cops to believe that Mary might have run away with her lover and that there had been no foul play.

  When Richard put the glass on the table, he saw in his peripheral vision Kathy enter the room. He automatically turned to look at her. Kathy glanced over the tables, her eyes met with Richard's. A radiant smile appeared on her face, and she headed for his table.

  She looked good tonight. Richard liked her new hairstyle. Her dress made her appear slimmer.

  After she gave the waiter her order, Kathy asked, "Where’s your wife? You came alone again. She doesn't like this place?"

  Richard became tense and uneasy. Thankfully, Kathy didn't notice it.

  Why the hell did she keep asking about his wife?

  He hesitated for a second and decided not to tell her that Mary had gone missing.

  "She’s still with her sister,” he replied.

  At the end of the dinner Kathy asked Richard if he felt like catching a movie tonight.

  "A movie?"

  Honestly, he hadn’t seen that coming.

  "Yes. There’s a new comedy out with Paul Rudd. Do you know Paul Rudd?"

  Richard creased his forehead. "I believe he was in Anchorman."

  "Yes, he was. I like him. He’s very sweet and nice." Kathy smiled. "Judging by the trailer, it’s a very funny movie. I thought you might be interested in it. I don't like to go to the movies alone, and all my friends are busy tonight.” After a pause, she added, “And my mom is playing bingo."

  Richard had no plans for tonight, so he decided to accept Kathy’s invitation.

  He sure could use some laughs right now.

  Richard was glad he wasn’t doing this just to make Kathy happy.

  Lisa called while they sat in the theater waiting for the movie to start. Richard apologized to Kathy and stepped out into the hallway.

  “Thanks for calling me,” he said to Lisa.

  “No problem,” Lisa replied.

  “Bob told me you spoke to Mary on the phone this morning.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Are you sure it was Mary?”

  “Yes, I am. Did she come back yet?”

  “No. I don’t know what to think.” Richard sighed loudly.

  “I’m so sorry, Richard. I hope she’s all right.”

  “Did she tell you where she was going?”

  “No. She just said she was going out of town for a while.”

  “I see. Well, I won’t take any more of your time, Lisa. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Okay. Call us if you hear anything about Mary.”

  “Sure. Bye.” Richard hung up and returned to his seat.

  So Bob was telling the truth ab
out Mary’s phone call.

  What should he make of it?

  Why had Lisa lied to him? What could she possibly gain from this idiotic hoax?

  After mulling the question for a couple of minutes, Richard came to the conclusion that Lisa had no economic reason to trick him.

  Perhaps the phone call was simply a figment of Lisa’s imagination. Many habitual pot users were prone to hallucinations, so it was a very plausible theory.

  Richard could ask Lisa if she had smoked weed this morning, but he was too tactful to do that.

  She might have made it up for shits and giggles, Richard thought.

  3.

  Richard came home at a quarter past ten. In the movie theater, he had expected Kathy to ask him questions about Mary, but he had turned out to be wrong. Kathy hadn’t mentioned his wife either before or after the movie. Maybe she had decided to take a break. Who knew? The movie, by the way, wasn’t half bad.

  As he walked upstairs to change clothes, the landline phone rang. The image of Bob's face flashed in his mind. If Richard knew for sure that it was Mary’s brother calling, he would have ignored the phone and kept walking, but the thing was it could be someone important. Reluctantly, Richard returned to the living room and picked up the receiver.

  "Hello," a soft male voice said. The voice seemed very familiar. Richard could swear he had heard it in the last few days.

  He stood silently for a while, staring at the carpet, trying to remember where he had heard this voice. When he opened his mouth to answer, the man said, "Hello, Mary, is that you? Say something."

  When the man finished talking, it dawned on Richard: the caller was Mary's lover!

  Boy, was he glad he had answered the phone. Lady Luck smiled on him again.

  "Mary, I'm going crazy without you. Why aren’t you answering my calls?”

  All the nasty words Richard had prepared for this jerk melted into one big lump and got stuck in his throat. He had trouble choosing what to say first, so he said nothing. Then he suddenly felt an urge to sneeze. After mulling his options, Richard dropped the receiver in its cradle and sneezed three times.