by Hadena James
“You want me to remove Alejandro from the equation,” Patterson made it a statement.
“Yes. You handle Alejandro, I’ll handle Nick.”
“I can do that,” Patterson nodded. Eric nodded back. He stood up and casually walked over to where Nick was sitting. It was rare for the Clachans to be in the mess hall at the same time as Nick the Bomber. It happened about a week a month, when the Fortress changed the lunch schedules of the inmates.
“Hiya, Nick,” Eric sat down, “remember me?”
“What do you want?” Nick asked.
“I don’t want anything. I just came over to prove that I was a man of my word.” Eric grabbed Nick in a snake-like strike around the throat. His hand squeezed, and Nick’s face started to turn red. Eric’s fingers dug into the soft flesh. His nails broke through the skin, sending tiny rivulets of blood down Nick’s neck. For a moment, Eric hesitated, but then he saw the guards moving towards him. With one final push, his fingers broke into the skin and he yanked. Nick spluttered, covering the table in blood. Electricity coursed through Eric’s body as he blacked out.
Patterson wanted to stand up and cheer. His grandson was not so different from him after all. He felt a little more, but the psychopath mutation was definitely in his DNA. It was nearly impossible to actually rip out someone’s windpipe, but Eric had managed to do just that. It was the proof that Patterson had been waiting for. Both Eric and Aislinn carried the psychopath gene, but did not display psychopathic personalities. Aislinn had become a sociopath. Eric was something else, more human than his sister, but just as capable. It made him proud.
Eric would get a couple of months of solitary confinement for killing Nick the Carnival Bomber. Patterson would be waiting though for Eric to be released and for Alejandro to arrive. He was very glad that there were whispers about the giant Native American coming to the Fortress as an inmate. He’d wanted to kill him before, but didn’t because he was Aislinn’s boss. Now, he was just a disgraced US Marshal and serial killer with a bad attitude towards women. Patterson could fix that.
He picked up his tray and moved to a different table. The Clachan men were given a wide berth in the cafeteria. Even serial killers didn’t seem to want to deal with them. Either he ate alone for the next couple of months or he found somewhere else to sit. He joined Brent Timmons, president of the Aislinn Cain fan club inside the Fortress.
Timmons immediately began talking at him. He would have said something to him, but Timmons didn’t require his input, just his presence to listen. Patterson ate quietly and listened. Once he killed Alejandro, he might kill Timmons, just for fun. The man was tiresome.
Twenty-Nine
Aside from finding belladonna concentrate and LSD, we found all of Gavin’s old diaries in a box in Alejandro’s attic. They had been wedged in among Helena’s things. Helena hadn’t killed the witnesses; she thought Alejandro had done it. However, Alejandro had ensured she would be committed to the institution because he believed she had done it.
Which meant there was still a killer on the loose and we had no suspects. Records confirmed that Alejandro had not been in the country during at least one of the killings. They also confirmed that Maria had been out of the country during two of them. Tyler had been too young. We had no suspects for the new deaths, despite the evidence that Alejandro had done it.
Lucas was postulating that since Alejandro had believed Helena had done it, he had replicated the signature. His work with the government would have given him access to Violet’s autopsy results; the only one ruled a homicide. I was leaning towards weird and unlikely coincidence.
Alejandro had been in custody for three days without saying a single word. He wouldn’t even open his mouth to ask for a lawyer. We had tried everything we could think of to get him talking, including sending me in to ruffle his feathers, but still had not gotten a peep. He didn’t ask for food, drinks, cigarette breaks, bathroom breaks, or anything else. It was the most frustrating thing I had dealt with in a while. I was of the mindset we should just beat him with a phonebook until he spilled the beans, but I was outvoted.
The DNA had come back; Tyler was indeed Gavin’s son. He was sitting in a conference room, waiting for someone to speak with him. His adopted aunt, Sydney Wyatt, was with him. We had drawn straws on who got to talk to him. I was fairly certain Gabriel had cheated to ensure it wasn’t me. Lucas and Xavier were doing the interview. They were surprisingly good as a team of bad news bearers.
Helena had given her statement. She had seen Gavin leave the bar with a girl and followed them. Gavin had done something to the girl to kill her, but Helena had not been able to see exactly that was. After the girl was dead, Gavin had raped her corpse, before tossing her into the hole. Helena had watched from afar and as Gavin had been on his way back to his car, she had walked up to him, called him a murderer and stabbed him with his own hunting knife.
For someone who was supposedly crazy, she was very articulate. She described how she had done it and the feelings she’d experienced before, during, and after. She even tipped the police that Gavin was a killer, but they had ignored it because she refused to leave her name or tell how she knew it. The guilt and grief had caused her insanity. Now that she had gotten it off her chest, she had gone home with Maria. She had also known about Anita and Tyler the entire time, but had refused to tell anyone else because she was afraid they would track Tyler down and make his life miserable.
Everything was tied into a neat little bow, except two things: why Alejandro had started killing now and who had killed the witnesses. My phone rang. Nyleena’s number showed up.
“Kind of busy,” I said instead of hello.
“It’s important, and I think you should sit down,” Nyleena answered.
“Oh no, Malachi?” I asked.
“No, he’s fine. He’s still recovering, but he’s out of the woods. Turns out, he can take a lot of damage and not die. It’s Eric.”
“Eric’s dead? Did Patterson kill him?” I instantly felt the calm descending upon me. Patterson might be my grandfather, but I’d kill him for Eric any day.
“No, Eric’s not dead and Patterson didn’t kill him. Eric killed someone today at The Fortress,” Nyleena told me, “at lunch, this afternoon to be exact.”
“Nick the Bomber?”
“Yes,” Nyleena said.
“He was making room,” I sighed.
“I don’t understand.”
“On his hit list, he was vacating a spot. While I do not think it is common knowledge yet to the rest of the world, the US Marshals’ Service knows that we picked up Alejandro Gui and arrested him under the Serial Killer and Mass Murderer Act. Since the Marshals’ Service runs the Fortress, I imagine the rumor mill is churning.”
“Oh.” Nyleena was silent for a moment. “Wow.” She went silent again, this time the silence stretched long enough that I began to wonder if she had hung up, when she asked, “How are you keeping it away from the press?”
“He will not talk. We have no idea why he did it. He has not asked for a lawyer, a cigarette, to go piss, nothing, not a word since we put him in handcuffs. He has not even sighed. It’s like he is dead on the inside, but the body is still walking around in a very non-zombish way.”
“That’s how you are keeping it from the press?”
“That’s not my department. I do not know how they are managing that. I was just hoping you could give me an interrogation idea.” I rubbed my forehead and realized she couldn’t see it through the phone. “Eric just complicated both our lives.”
“They were already complicated. Malachi should be able to get calls in a few days.”
“No advice on the interrogation of Alejandro the Badass?”
“Stab him, if he says ouch, at least you’ll know he’s alive.” Nyleena hung up on me. We rarely said good-bye. It seemed too final for both of us. I sat in the hard plastic chair that belonged in an elementary school principal’s office and thought about what made Alejandro tick. We’d come up
empty so far. I hadn’t even been able to push his buttons by insulting his manhood.
“So, Tyler and Rachel parted on good terms. She was a career girl and he was going away to college. She called him to come over on the day she died, getting one last booty call in before he left for Florida,” Xavier said coming out of the conference room. “He doesn’t understand why Alejandro would go after the women he loved.”
“Fuck,” Lucas slapped his forehead, “that’s why Alejandro did it.”
“For those of us in the peanut gallery, would you care to explain?” I asked.
“In a minute, where’s Gabriel?”
“Getting coffee and wondering how to crack Alejandro’s shell.”
“Everyone, come with me.” Lucas began leading us down the hallways to the break room. Gabriel was leaning against the countertop drinking coffee. They had a Keurig in their break room. We had started in a crappy warehouse and had been upgraded to a small, one room building within the compound where we lived as our headquarters. Obviously, we were doing something wrong.
“That is one of the stranger things I’ve seen,” Fiona said. She was drinking a cup of tea. She didn’t drink coffee, because she said it blocked her chakras or something.
“You get used to the parade after a while.” Gabriel turned to us. “Have you caught a break?”
“It was staring us in the face the whole time,” Lucas answered.
“I don’t speak psychobabble code,” Fiona told him.
“Helena said she had seen the look on Alejandro’s face. He was going to kill Maria. Why?” Lucas asked.
“Something about a boyfriend,” I answered.
“Right, this is about love. Nothing sours a man more than that.” Lucas looked at us as if we were all playing the home game, which I wasn’t.
“Nope, still confused,” I informed him.
“Rachel and Tyler broke up, so he killed Rachel and her friends. Maya Hudson loved Tyler like a son, so he killed Maya. Maria talks about a new boyfriend and Alejandro lets the mask drop long enough for Helena to realize Maria is in danger. Helena admitted to killing Gavin, which threw Alejandro into a rage, but why? Because Gavin was his brother and he loved him,” Lucas spoke rapidly.
“Then why the mass killings?” I asked.
“To make it hard to track,” Lucas said. “The best killer is one that kills others to get to his real target. Alejandro is a serial killer and mass murderer, but only because he was covering up for who he really wanted to kill.”
“Then why come after me?” Gabriel asked.
“Because Alejandro hates me.” I looked at Lucas for confirmation. “Killing just me would have been obvious. He had to kill other members of the SCTU.”
“I think he sent the bomb to Malachi too,” Lucas said. “He attacks the VCU, exposes their weaknesses and the weaknesses of the FGN security, but he gets the bonus of hurting Malachi, who is just as much of a challenge to his superiority as Ace is.”
“Great, how does this help us?” Gabriel asked.
“He has an Achilles’ heel, love and Aislinn,” Lucas said. “I want her to go in there, extolling on how wonderful Malachi is doing in recovery and how much she’s looking forward to seeing him. I think he’ll crack.”
“That’s it?” Gabriel asked.
“Well, no, she’s going to have to break some rules too.” Lucas raised an eyebrow.
Thirty
Alejandro was handcuffed when I came into the room carrying a mostly empty bottle of Coca-Cola and an unopened bottle of Coca-Cola. It seemed the Marshals’ office didn’t have a Pepsi machine, so Mountain Dew was out of the question for the act I was about to perform. Of course, there wasn’t going to be much acting involved. I loathed Alejandro and rules in real life, so it wasn’t much of a stretch to do what Lucas had suggested.
I had changed clothing. Instead of my usual jeans, I was in a skirt. A short jean skirt, much shorter than I was actually comfortable wearing. Then again, one would argue that I was uncomfortable in any length of skirt and they would be right, but this one was over my knees. I wasn’t wearing tights. I had on socks and canvas tennis shoes that reminded me of being on a boat. I was fairly certain that everyone was staring at my legs.
If they weren’t, they were staring at my arms. I had been forced into a blouse as well; some strange see-through thing with a camisole underneath. I felt exposed, probably because I was. My physical scars, which I took great care to hide, were all laid bare for the Marshals in the building to see. This outfit was the only part of the plan I had issues with.
I plopped down into the other chair and swung my feet up onto the table. I put the mostly empty bottle down and unscrewed the lid. Then I unscrewed the lid of the full bottle, took a drink, and set it down next to the empty bottle.
Alejandro didn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitched. I wasn’t sure why, but I was sure it was bad. I dug a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of the denim skirt along with a lighter. For a moment, they both stayed still in my hands as instructed. I was letting the tension build. Alejandro was a smoker. I flipped open the top of the box and pulled a cigarette out with my teeth. The lighter flicked to life on the first try, shooting up flame. The flame touched the cigarette and I inhaled, taking a long drag. I was smoking inside a building. On top of that, I was smoking inside a government building that had giant no smoking signs placed everywhere.
In four minutes, I had broken at least a dozen rules. Between the apparel, the lighter, which was considered a weapon, the smoking, and the mostly empty bottle that was going to be my ashtray, we were definitely straying into the dangerously close to being suspended without pay area of the rules. Gabriel had cleared all of it with our multitude of bosses, so I would be paid, but Alejandro didn’t have to know that.
I put the cigarettes and lighter back in my pocket, never offering one to the monster across the table. I didn’t speak. I just sat there, looking like a scarred up hooker, smoking a cigarette. When I finished the first cigarette, I lit a second, repeating the actions from earlier exactly.
“So, Malachi is going to be fine. Your bomb did some damage, but his will to survive is stronger. He will be back at work by the end of July. Everyone else has already been released, not that it matters much. It got Malachi, Caleb Green, and Rhodes. Rhodes was the farthest away and the least injured, which was good, since he is the only one not a psychopath.” I exhaled the smoke from my lungs as I talked. “The Marshals’ Service has stepped in on Helena’s behalf for the murder of your brother Gavin. We found all his notebooks. He never worked for the DEA. He just told you guys that so you’d ignore his desire to party, and his desire to perform necrophilia as it turned out. I must admit, we have that in common, what with both of us having serial killers in the family and whatnot. However, mine never fucked the dead, so I might be in a slightly more superior position than you are. In other good news, we finally got the video feed from the visitor’s station and while Helena did kill those two patients, there were extenuating circumstances, so instead of prosecuting her, we are putting her and Maria in Witness Protection and moving them. Same with Tyler. He was fine with that, especially knowing that his father was a sick fuck and his uncle was just as sad and pathetic. I guess I win there too, because despite the serial killers in my family, my family still talks to me, even when I do not want them to. The kid even asked to be moved near Maria and Helena so he could get to know them. I see good things for their future. Helena has been so helpful. She explained that your mother and father were part of the Native American rights movement and that is why you all have different last names. She also told us about your mother walking out when you were young and that your father was never around. Not that it matters; you have all of the physical traits of a psychopath. So, it was inherited, not created. She went on to explain that your mother left because she was the one that carried the ASPD gene and that she went into a rage one night and killed the family dog after Gavin set off a firecracker in the house that nea
rly killed you all. Your mother realized she was a danger to you all, so she left. Your father agreed to her leaving for the same reasons. However, being a single father of four takes money, so he worked long hours and was rarely home. Your parents were amazing people. I am particularly impressed that your mother realized she was a psychopath when she killed the family dog and removed herself from the household thinking it would help. She deserves a medal. Pity, she did not realize it was inherited and you boys already had it. It does bolster Xavier’s claim that it is carried on the X chromosome though. He will end up writing a paper or something about it. He and Lucas will probably write a paper together. Between you and me, plus a few members of the VCU, they have an extraordinary understanding of inherited psychopathology. They have earned a few minutes of fame and glory.”
Alejandro’s mouth opened.
“Nope, not done talking.” I held up my hand to him. “I have no interest in hearing the sound of your voice. You forget I am a sociopath. I like the sound of my own voice better. Even wearing this ridiculous outfit, I still like the sound of my own voice better than yours. See, the outfit was Lucas’ idea. He has some crackpot theory that you dislike me because you lust after me. The skimpy outfit was supposed to help lubricate your tongue, double meaning intended. I agreed because I know you do not and it gives me the opportunity to show off some new scars. Of which, there are many. I have some burn marks, some knife cuts, some bullet holes, even a branding iron, although you cannot see it because my back caught fire when I was chasing a bomber last year. That reminds me, you know my brother, Eric? He got sent to the hole today at the Fortress. He killed the bomber that nearly killed Lucas, Xavier, and me. It was such a mess, but luckily, I kept my head about me and managed to save both their lives, despite losing the skin on my back. Oh, and then there is Patterson, my grandfather, he is now in the Fortress, but I am sure you saw that on the news. He was my stalker, The Butcher, who sent me the battlefield teeth before you fucked up and grabbed a rat covered in arsenic. Man that was a dumb ass thing to do. Still blame me for it? It is rhetorical,” I added quickly to keep him from speaking. “I am sure you do. No, that is a lie. I know you do. Your sisters took a shine to me and spilled the family secrets readily, including how you have sat and plotted revenge against me for a couple of years now. I do not remember how long exactly, I just remember it was cold in Chicago. Honestly, I do not need to know more than that. It has no impact on my life.” I was starting to see the rage. It seethed beneath the surface, filling his eyes with a hellish light and contorting his face.
