All The Dead Girls

by Tim Kizer

  “If Frank ran away, we'll find him,” Josephine said in a firm voice. “I’ve been doing this for sixty years. I’ve dealt with worse before.”

  “We shouldn’t have been so easy on him,” said Albert. “What the hell were we waiting for?” He paused. “Okay, I’m looking at his house. There’s a police car in front of the driveway. I can see a cop at the front door. The lights in the house are still off.”

  “Looks like Frank’s not home yet.” Ron filled a shot glass with cognac and gave it to Josephine.

  “Well, he made his move, now it’s our turn.” Josephine took a sip from the glass and smiled. “Frank must realize that innocent people don’t run. He just confessed his guilt, and he knows it.”

  3.

  Caution. To hell with caution.

  Albert started the car and pulled away from the curb.

  If Josephine hadn't been harping about caution this whole time, they wouldn't have lost this asshole. If not for this damn caution, they could have snatched Frank eight days ago, right after he had been released from the hospital. Hell, they should have started interrogating him once he had awakened from the coma.

  Caution. Patience. The two most favorite words of a coward. In his, Albert’s, opinion anyway.

  Are they winners who are in control or just a bunch of wusses?

  How the hell is Josephine going to find this moron?

  4.

  “Al thinks Frank has skipped town,” said Josephine. “He could be right.”

  “Skipped town,” Graham repeated after her, gazing at the smoldering end of his cigarette with a gloomy expression on his face. “There are a thousand places this moron could be hiding. We should have whacked this asshole a long time ago, you know. I could have taken care of him the same night I cut Kelly’s mom up.”

  “Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Who could have predicted that he would kill Kelly?”

  “Well, it’s spilt milk anyway. So what’s the plan?”

  “Come over here, Graham. If it turns out that Frank has really run away, we'll have to brainstorm the situation. I have a couple of ideas that we need to discuss.”

  “Okay, I'm on my way.” Graham hung up, looked at the clock. 5:24 am. He’d better hurry up because it was only six minutes till 5:30 am and Graham liked having round numbers in his schedule. Right now he intended to leave the house at half past five—the bottom of the hour as they called it on TV. He had started this habit out of boredom a few months ago and found no reason to abandon it yet.

  He quickly put on shorts and a T-shirt and jumped into his Ford Explorer. He left the garage at 5:30 am sharp, just like he had planned.

  So, this asshole had gone on the run. Honestly, that was the biggest mistake of his life.

  And it was all because of Josephine's desire to be cautious.

  Caution. Josephine should have thought of it when she’d let Tony go clubbing every damn week. Twice every damn week! She should have thought of caution when she’d trusted Kelly to watch over Tony during his late night escapades. Even with a gun, that dumb bimbo was useless as a bodyguard—harsh but true, okay?

  They had made no headway in the last weeks because of Josephine’s reluctance to fry Frank’s ass.

  Graham heaved a sigh. Damn, he was nervous! He hadn't been so nervous since he had first drunk Tony’s blood thirteen years ago. In his current situation, however, the stakes were much higher: back then he had only risked losing thirty-forty years of his life, and now he was about to be robbed of eternity.

  Yeah, eternity. And he had just started enjoying it.

  Come to think of it, their vindictiveness had bitten them in the ass. If they hadn’t avenged Tony’s brother on George Frey’s family, Kelly and Frank would never have entered the picture and none of this crap would have happened. That was the bottom line: had they limited their revenge to killing good old George only, everything would have been hunky-dory now.

  Actually, everything would have been hunky-dory if Tony’s dumbass brother had picked another night to turn into a bat. Or refrained from shapeshifting altogether.

  Graham spat on the dashboard.

  Did Nico have to turn into a bat? Was he four years old or something?

  5.

  “Why did he run away?” Ron asked. “Did he get scared?”

  Albert lit up a cigarette and took a deep puff, gazing at the notepad Josephine was using to write down their ideas on catching Frank.

  “What if he figured out what Kelly really was? What all of us are?” Graham unbuttoned his shirt to cool his body off. “Do you think he could have done it?”

  Josephine shook her head.

  “No, I doubt it,” she said. “How would he have figured it out? Kelly was very careful. I don’t think she told him she drank vampire blood. She would never have told him a thing without my permission.”

  “Then why did he skip town?” asked Graham.

  “Let's concentrate on finding him first, if he really skipped town,” said Josephine. “Marilyn Hancock. I suppose she could be useful to us.”

  “How?” Albert asked.

  “I’ll tell you how. If Frank is afraid of us, he must believe we are capable of hurting people. He’s also aware that we know about Marilyn. If he ran away alone and if he loves that woman, he’s going to keep in touch with her to make sure she’s okay. And he’ll tell her to hide if he hasn’t already done so.” Josephine turned to Graham. “Graham, go to Marilyn’s place, and if that bitch is there, take her to our country house. If she’s not home, wait there until she shows up. Drive as fast as you can. I hope this bitch is still in town.”

  “Okay.” Graham jumped to his feet and headed for the front door.

  “Keep things quiet and call me if she’s not home,” Josephine shouted to Graham.

  “What are we going to do with Marilyn?” asked Albert.

  “I have a couple of ideas. First, we’ll try to get Frank to tell her where he’s hiding. He might want to meet Marilyn if he misses her badly enough. We’ll see.”

  “Love is bullshit,” Albert remarked. “He’s not going to risk his own life for Marilyn.”

  “It depends on how brave Frank will feel. He might decide to be a hero, you never know. He might think we don’t want to kill him after all.”

  “What’s your other idea?” asked Ron.

  “If Marilyn doesn’t work as bait, we can use her to communicate with Frank in case he stops checking his voicemail and email.”

  “What are we going to tell him?” asked Albert.

  “Marilyn is not the only person Frank might care about. He has a brother, who lives in California. They are pretty close, as far as I know.”

  “What do you want to do? Kidnap his brother?”

  “The brother or one of the nephews.”

  “Are you sure it will work? Frank is such a coward.”

  “We won’t know if it works until we try, Al.” Josephine turned to Ron. “Ron, please go check the flight schedule to San Francisco for today.”

  Twenty minutes later Graham reported that Marilyn was not home and that her car was in the driveway.

  6.

  Albert leaned forward to pick up the ringing cell-phone, which he had set on the table earlier. It was Josephine, who had gone to look for Frank at his office.

  “Frank took a vacation,” she said. “He told his boss he’d be back in two weeks, but I doubt that. They’ll probably let him stay on vacation as long as he wants because of that car crash.”

  “I told you he had run away!” exclaimed Albert. “I'm going to break every bone in this asshole’s body.” Albert walked up to the window and angrily kicked the wall. “Dammit, I had a feeling he would run away. I knew it!”

  “I guess it’s time for you to go to Philadelphia.”

  “Okay, I'm taking off.” Albert quickly scanned through his recent emails to make sure he had Josephine’s message with Marilyn’s parents’ address and ran out of the house to his Camaro. According to the flight search he had done onl
ine in the morning, there was a flight to Philadelphia two and half hours from now, and he intended to catch it.

  7.

  Ron looked at his watch, which he had set three hours back to keep up with the Pacific time zone. It was 4:09 pm. He felt fatigued and irritated, and his body was aching; without a decent supply of the vampire blood, he needed more time than usual to perk up after the seven hour flight.

  Where were these damn kids?

  The classes had ended more than an hour ago, but Ron still saw no sign of Frank’s nephews, who were the reason he had come to California: he was supposed to kidnap one of the boys so they could have a bargaining chip in their talks with Frank.

  Ron stroked the leather handbag with ten thousand dollars, which rested in his lap.

  “Remember, we are vulnerable right now, and as long as there’s no new source of juice, we must act with utmost caution,” Josephine had told him back in Buffalo as they planned the kidnapping. “I don’t want any of us to make a stupid mistake and end up in jail.”

  She asked him to try to disguise the unlucky nephew’s disappearance as something more innocuous than kidnapping. You see, child abduction often caused an excessive commotion in the community and the law enforcement circles, which was the last thing they needed at the moment. Inept as the cops were, they could be quite effective when highly motivated.

  “What you can do is offer the kid a bunch of cash—say ten grand—to pretend that he ran away from home,” Josephine said. “Chances are these boys hate their parents and would be happy to spend a couple of weeks away from them.”

  “My mother drove me nuts when I was fourteen,” remarked Ron.

  “Play it by ear. Use your imagination,” continued Josephine. “Maybe you can come up with something better. Children are very materialistic these days. For ten grand, a fourteen-year-old kid will literally kiss your ass. It's a lot of money for a boy from a middle class family. He’ll do whatever you tell him to do.”

  Ron liked Josephine’s idea and used it as a starting point for his action plan.

  Okay, this fellow looked like one of the nephews.

  Ron fixed his eyes on the boy in brown Hollister shorts and a white T-shirt, who was strolling down the sidewalk towards Andrew Fowler's house. After checking with the photo, Ron grabbed a pack of twenties from the bag and got out of the car.

  “Tommy?” Ron flashed a friendly smile. The boy stopped and turned his face to Ron, who made sure that the wad of cash in his hand was clearly visible.

  “Are you Tommy?” asked Ron, leaning against the front right fender of his rented Lexus.

  The boy shook his head. Ron noticed that his pack of twenties had caught the kid’s eye.

  “Jimmy then?” Ron thanked God for having cleared the street of passersby and neighbors: the absence of busybodies and witnesses made his job a bit easier.

  The boy nodded.

  “My name is Chuck. I’m your dad’s cousin from New York.”

  “Okay,” the boy replied in a disinterested voice.

  “I’m here with my daughter.” Ron pointed at the passenger window, which was the cue for Cindy to stick her head out and wave to the boy. Cindy was a stunning eighteen-year-old stripper/hooker (who looked sixteen) he had brought with him from Buffalo. Ron had known her for half a year now and believed he could trust her with this assignment.

  “You see, I’m on a business trip and my daughter is bored out of her mind because I have no time for her,” went on Ron. “I was going to ask Tommy to join us so Anna would have someone to hang out. Do you know where he is?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Cindy opened the door and stepped out on the sidewalk. She looked gorgeous in her tiny skirt and extremely revealing blouse, and if she hadn’t given Ron a blowjob earlier today, he would have had a raging hard-on right now. Ron was relieved to see that the hooker had captured Jimmy’s attention: the boy was unashamedly ogling her as she approached him. Ron was glad that the boy turned out straight and that he didn’t have to search for a gay replacement for Cindy.

  “Hi, I’m Anna.” The hooker shook Jimmy’s hand.

  “Are you free? You have nothing planned for the weekend?” asked Ron.

  “Yes, I am free.” The boy shifted his eyes from Cindy to Ron and then back to the girl.

  “You want to come with us? We’re staying at the hotel in San Jose. I need someone to keep Anna off my back so I can finish my work. You think you can handle her?”

  “Yes, come with us,” said Cindy. “I’m bored to death. I don’t know anybody here and I’ve got nothing to do all day.”

  Ron walked up to the boy, pulled him aside gently, and whispered into his ear, “You see, Jimmy, if I let Anna out of the room, she’ll end up fucking some punk at a nightclub. I don’t trust her judgment, to be honest with you, which is why I have to take her with me on all my business trips.” Ron nodded at the cash he was holding. “You can make some money if you keep a good eye on her.” He paused. “Do we have a deal?”

  Jimmy appeared puzzled as he processed Ron’s words. If he had been a few years older he would have probably been able to realize that Ron’s proposal sounded too good to be true. However, even if he suspected that it was some kind of trap, the prospect of spending a couple of days with a young slutty girl in a hotel room would trump any and all objections of reason.

  “How long are you staying in California?”

  “A couple of days. Maybe three. But we have to take off now because I’m running late. You can call your mom when we get to the hotel.” Ron smiled. “Let’s talk in the car. I’m getting hot out here.” He patted Jimmy on the shoulder, encouraging him to start moving towards the Lexus.

  “How much am I gonna make?” The boy took a step towards the car. “You said I’m gonna make some money.”

  “A grand? How does a thousand dollars sound to you?” Ron decided to start low since offering a much larger amount for babysitting a teenage girl could raise a few red flags even in a fourteen-year-old’s mind.

  “A thousand dollars?” For a second, there was an expression of astonishment on Jimmy’s face, which quickly turned into nonchalance: the boy seemed to be a decent negotiator.

  “Maybe more if you can keep Anna busy all day. We’ll discuss it later.” Ron climbed in behind the wheel of the car and watched the boy take a seat in the back next to Cindy. Ron cracked a happy grin. He separated roughly a couple dozen of twenty dollar bills from the pack and handed them to Jimmy. “This is an advance. Feel free to spend it any way you want.”

  “So, all I have to do is stay in the room with your daughter?” Jimmy put the money in the pocket of his shorts.

  “That’s right. I’m sure you’ll find something to do together.” Ron started the engine. “Do we have a deal, Jim?”

  “Yeah, okay.” Jimmy fastened the seatbelt. “You’re giving the money to me, not to Dad, right?”

  From the corner of his eye, Ron saw Cindy run her hand playfully over Jimmy’s thigh. Ron could bet that the boy had gotten a boner then and there.

  “To you, Jimmy.” Ron stepped on the gas pedal and began to pull away from the curb. “Every penny.”

  “Awesome.”

  Ron grinned. Yes, Josephine had been right when she’d said he had a prepossessing appearance.

  “That gray hair on the sides instills trust,” she told him. “The boy will listen to you.”

  It looked like the kid indeed trusted him. Or was just thinking with the wrong head.

  “Do you drink beer?” Ron asked. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell Andrew on you. I started drinking beer when I was thirteen.”

  “Beer is okay. Do you have any in your room?”

  “I sure do.”

  Ron thought of offering Jimmy some pot, but decided to do it later tonight, when the boy was drunk and horned up.

  8.

  “We've got Jimmy,” Josephine said. “You can go work on the mother.”

  “Excellent.” Albert shoved the cell-p
hone in his pocket and left the room. As he started the Impala he had rented at the airport, he glanced at the watch. 8:35 pm. Marilyn’s parents’ house was located less than two miles from Albert’s motel, so he expected to arrive there by 8:45 pm. Hopefully, at least one member of the Hancock household was going to be home. Albert preferred it to be Angela, Marilyn’s mother, since people told him that he had a face that women trusted.

  While pulling out of the parking lot, he rehearsed in his mind what he was going to say to Marilyn’s mother. Back in Buffalo, Josephine had explained to him that the main purpose of his mission was to communicate to Frank that they had his nephew and to send Marilyn a message that her parents could end up dead if she kept playing games.

  “It would be nice if her parents told you where she’s hiding, but I doubt they know it,” Josephine said.

  “What if Frank told Marilyn not to call anybody?” Albert asked.

  “I have a hunch that she’ll get in touch with her mother sooner or later. From my experience, most women are irrational and sentimental. Thank God, I’m not most women.”

  Josephine also believed that Frank had to be in touch with Marilyn: after he had made her drop everything and go on the run, it would have been utterly rude of him to keep her in the dark, which meant the two were communicating one way or the other.”

  Albert was in a much better mood than the night before. Now that they had Jimmy, it could be just a matter of days before Frank came back: Albert refused to believe that Frank would let an innocent child die. After all, Jimmy was his blood relatives. They could have their juice supply restored as early as next week!

  Albert parked three houses away from Angela’s place and got out of the car.

  If Frank actually succeeded in keeping Marilyn away from phones and email, Al was going to cut every one of his relatives, young or old, didn’t matter. That's what he would do, guaranteed.

  A short fair-haired woman opened the door. Judging by her age, she could be Marilyn’s mother. Albert strained his ears for other people’s voices inside the house.

  “Good evening,” the woman said. “How can I help you?”