by Brian Bowyer
• • •
Judith was in the breakroom when her cellphone rang. It was Jim. She answered on the second ring. “Hi Baby.”
“Judith? Oh my god, Judith. Melanie’s gone.”
• • •
Judith rushed home. The apartment was a madhouse of questions and activity when she got there. After the police left, she and Jim found themselves sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Now that everyone else was gone, the silence was oppressive and their minds were filled with the blackest of thoughts.
Jim was clearly in shock. He was drinking from a bottle of whiskey and Judith could see that he was already drunk.
“You think it’s my fault,” Jim said.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. I can see the blame in your eyes.”
Judith could think of nothing to say that hadn’t already been said. Jim had spent the morning writing like he always did, and when he checked on Melanie around noon, their daughter was gone. The door to the apartment had been unlocked. Judith couldn’t remember if she had locked the door when she left for work or not. Evidently one of two things had happened: either Melanie had wandered out of the apartment on her own, or someone else had come inside and snatched her.
“What time did you start drinking?” Judith said.
Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. Not long after you left, I guess. But I wasn’t drinking much. I didn’t start drinking heavily until after she was already gone.”
“And you never heard anything?”
Jim shook his head. Then he took a drink. “I had the TV on for Melanie, but that was low volume. Other than that, I never heard a thing.”
Judith ran fingers through her hair. “My god, this is a fucking nightmare.”
They both looked over at Melanie’s empty highchair.
• • •
Judith couldn’t sleep. Where on Earth was Melanie? Was she even still alive? She imagined her daughter somewhere out there in the night being raped and tortured by a maniac. She shuddered, and felt as if she might shatter into a million little pieces.
Jim was lying beside her on the bed, unconscious and reeking of whiskey. Judith checked her phone. The time was 1:06 a.m. She didn’t have to be back at work until Monday. She decided to go for a drive and try to calm her mind.
She got up. She got dressed. She put some shoes on. She grabbed her car keys. Then she left the apartment and took off down the hallway.
Another apartment door opened and a woman stuck her head out. She appeared to be about ten years older than Judith. Thirty or so. Maybe thirty-five. And still highly attractive. “Excuse me,” the woman said. “I know you lost your little girl.”
Judith nodded. “Yes. My daughter is missing. Did the police speak to you?”
“Me? No. I don’t even live here. I’m just keeping watch on this place for a friend. But I can definitely help you find your daughter.”
“You can?”
“Yes. But you will have to do me three favors first.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you doing three favors for me if you ever want to see your daughter again.”
A sickening anger bloomed inside of Judith. “What do you mean? Do you know where Melanie is?”
“Yes, I do.”
Adrenaline shot through Judith and suddenly she was close to the woman’s face. “Then tell me where she is! Tell me where Melanie is right this instant!”
“Calm down. She isn’t here. I can get her back for you, but you have to do those three favors for me first.”
“Is this a ransom demand, or something? Are you blackmailing me?”
“You need to calm down and accept what I am offering if you ever want to see your daughter again.”
Judith said, “I’m going to the police.”
The woman shrugged. “If you do, you will never see your daughter alive again. You can’t go to the police, and you can’t speak to your husband about any of this. If you do either of those two things, I will know. Then I will simply disappear and your daughter will simply die. The choice is yours, of course, but this is your one and only chance to save your daughter’s life.”
“Okay,” Judith said. “What do I have to do?”
The woman smiled. “Three favors. The first one’s easy. The second and third? Not so much.” The woman stepped back from the open doorway. “But first, come on in. There’s something you’ll need to take with you from inside the box.”
“The box?”
The woman nodded. “Yes. Come on in. You’ll see.”
Judith stepped into an empty room. The room had a hardwood floor. There was no furniture or anything else other than a wooden box on the floor in the center of the room. The box was about the size of a laundry basket.
“Open the box,” the woman said.
Judith did. Inside the box was only a single silver key. “Looks like a house key.”
“It is. Put it in your pocket.”
Judith did.
Then the woman gave her an address and told her what the first favor would be.
• • •
Judith parked her car in front of the old man’s house and turned off the engine. It was almost two o’clock in the morning and there was no traffic on the residential street. She got out and approached the house.
He’s very old and bedridden, the woman had told her. He probably won’t even be awake. If he is awake, he certainly won’t give you any problems. Just tell him you’re one of his nurses and you need to check his medication. He keeps the journal in the nightstand beside his bed. It’s a hardback journal. Black. You can’t miss it. Just grab the journal, leave, and bring it here to me. If you don’t, your daughter will die. If you do, you’ll only have two favors left to do for me. That key in your pocket unlocks the front door, and there is no alarm. You have two hours.
Judith’s hands were shaking when she got to the front door. Calm down, she told herself. Just focus on Melanie. She took the key from her pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it. She took a deep breath. Then she stepped inside.
A foul smell greeted her immediately.
She crossed a living room. She passed a kitchen on her left and a bathroom on her right. There was a light on in a room with an open door at the end of a hallway. Judith approached the room and stepped inside.
It was the old man’s bedroom. The man was dead. He had been slaughtered and dismembered. His body had been hacked into perhaps thirty pieces and there was blood all over the walls, the floor, and the bed. His severed head rested upright on a pillow at the top of his mutilated body.
Judith took her shoes off and left them on the floor by the door. She crossed the room and took the journal from the nightstand where the woman had told her it would be. Then she put her shoes back on and left.
• • •
The woman opened the door. “That was fast.”
Judith handed her the journal. “The man had been decapitated and hacked to pieces. Why didn’t you just take the journal yourself when you murdered him?”
The woman smiled briefly. Then she gave Judith a look that sent chills up and down her spine. “We wanted you to see what would happen to your daughter if you refuse to do the second favor. Be here tomorrow at noon and I’ll tell you what you have to do.”
• • •
Judith woke up. She brushed her teeth. She went into the kitchen.
Jim was seated at the table, talking on his phone. “Yes. Of course. I see. Okay. Thank you. Goodbye.” He put the phone down and looked up at Judith. “There’s nothing new. They said they’ll call us if they hear anything.”
Judith retrieved a soda from the refrigerator and opened it.
“They may do a press conference later,” Jim said.
Judith took a drink. “Okay.”
“I think I’ll go to the park today,” Jim said. “Maybe do some writing there. You know, just to get out of the apartment.”
Judith sighed with rel
ief. She had to go see the woman at noon to find out what the second favor would be. “Good idea. I may go to the mall and do some shopping.”
Soon thereafter, Jim grabbed his laptop. “See you later.”
Judith nodded. “Okay.”
He left.
Judith wondered if they would ever recover from this. Even if they got Melanie back, their lives had been irreversibly damaged.
At noon, she went to the apartment down the hallway. The door was already open and the woman was standing in the doorway. “Come on in,” the woman said. Judith did. As before (excluding them), there was nothing else in the room but the wooden box.
“Open the box,” the woman said.
Judith did. There was a gun inside the box. The gun was a revolver.
“It’s a loaded thirty-eight,” the woman said. “Take it out.”
Judith did.
“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”
Judith nodded. “Yes.”
“Good,” the woman said. “Because today, you’ll have to kill someone.”
“Kill someone?”
“Yes. But don’t worry. He lives alone, and that gun is untraceable.” She gave Judith a name and an address. “We told him you were coming, so he’ll be expecting you. He’ll think it’s a business visit. Kill him today, but don’t get rid of the gun. Just kill him today, go home, and then come back here tomorrow.”
“Same time tomorrow?”
“Yes. Be here at noon.”
Judith headed for the door.
“One more thing,” the woman said.
Judith turned around. “What is it?”
“We’ll know if you fail to kill him, of course. And if you fail to kill him, your daughter will end up like the man you saw last night.”
Judith nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She left.
• • •
The man lived in a small house at the end of a narrow lane. Judith parked her car in his driveway behind a truck and killed the engine. She got out. The day was warm. She didn’t see anyone else around. She tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans at the small of her back and approached the house. She had never killed anyone before. This is for Melanie, she told herself. Any mother would do what I’m about to do. She took a deep breath, and then she pressed the doorbell.
Moments later, a man opened the door. He smiled. “You must be Judith.”
She retrieved the gun and aimed it at his face. “I’m so sorry.” Then she pulled the trigger and shot him between the eyes. The .38 slug blew his brains out the back of his head, killing him instantly.
Judith walked back to her car. She got in and drove away.
• • •
The next day, the woman opened the apartment door at noon before Judith could even knock. “Excellent work,” the woman said. “You’re only one more favor away from seeing your daughter. Come on in.”
Judith stepped into the empty room and pulled the door closed behind her.
“Do you still have the gun?”
Judith nodded.
“Great,” the woman said. “You may need it later.” Then she turned and pointed at the box behind her. “Now you need to open the box and take out what’s inside.”
Judith approached the wooden box. She opened it. Inside the box was a hacksaw. She grabbed the hacksaw by its handle and pulled it out.
“To see your daughter again,” the woman said, “the third favor you’ll need to do is bring me your husband’s head.”
“What?”
“Saw your husband’s head off, bring it here, and put it inside that box. Otherwise, your daughter’s head goes inside the box.”
“You’re insane.”
“The choice is yours, Judith.”
“Why are you doing this to us?”
“Because your husband lied to me.”
“Lied to you?”
“Yes. He told me that he was going to leave you and be with me, but now he says that he’s going to stay with you.”
“So you’ve been having an affair with my husband?”
“Yes. For over a year now.”
“I don’t believe you.”
The woman looked into Judith’s eyes. Then she told her some intimate details about her husband and Judith knew that it was true.
• • •
Jim was pointing a gun at Judith when she stepped into the kitchen. The hand not holding the gun was holding a hacksaw.
Judith was also holding a hacksaw, but the .38 was in the waistband of her jeans. “So she struck the same deal with you?” Judith said.
Jim said, “What are you talking about?”
“Three favors to see our daughter again.”
Jim nodded, but he looked confused. “Three favors, yes. But it was a he, not a she. It was the man you’ve been having an affair with. And don’t try to deny it. He told me things about you that he otherwise could not have possibly known.”
“Unbelievable,” Judith said. “It was a woman who struck the deal with me. The woman you’ve been having an affair with. And apparently, the two of them are working together.”
“I stole a journal,” Jim said, “and then I killed a woman. Those were the first two favors. What about you?”
“The same,” Judith said. “Except I had to kill a man instead of a woman. Now I’m supposed to saw your head off and put it in a box.”
Still pointing the gun at Judith, Jim looked down at her hacksaw. Then he held his own hacksaw up. “Same here. This is insane.” He set the gun down on the kitchen table and picked up a bottle of whiskey. He took several drinks. “Why do you think they’re doing this?”
Judith shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re married, and they both found out that the other was cheating, and they decided to punish us instead of each other. Or maybe they’re just evil. Who knows?”
Jim took a few more drinks. “And now one of us has to put the other’s head in a box to get our daughter back.”
“Maybe there’s another way,” Judith said, “now that we know what we’re up against.”
“No,” Jim said. “One of us has to die. And since I’m an alcoholic, it should be me. Melanie needs her mother. Show her my picture from time to time, and make sure she knows that I loved her.” He raised the hacksaw to his throat.
“Jim! No! Wait!”
He slashed his throat open with the hacksaw, cutting deeply all the way across his neck. Blood shot out of his carotid artery and possibly even his jugular vein. He dropped to the floor in a spreading pool of blood. He made a few gurgling sounds while quickly bleeding out, and then he died.
Judith set her hacksaw on the kitchen table. Then she dropped to her knees and wept. After the tears stopped, her only thoughts were of Melanie. She steeled herself for what had to be done.
She decapitated her dead husband in silence, using Jim’s hacksaw instead of her own. She grabbed a heavy-duty black trash bag from beneath the kitchen sink and put the severed head in that.
A phone call to the police would have to wait. Then she changed her mind and decided that she would just drive Melanie to the police station right after she got her back, so that her daughter wouldn’t have to see her father’s decapitated corpse on the kitchen floor.
Judith took Jim’s head to the apartment down the hallway. The door was closed. She knocked, but no one answered. The door was unlocked. She opened it and went inside.
The room was empty except for the wooden box. Judith approached the box. There was a note on top that was not addressed to anyone: Put the head on the floor and open the box to see your daughter.
Judith set the trash bag on the floor. She opened the box. Her daughter’s severed head was in the box.
Judith closed the box. She retrieved the handgun from her waistband. She put the muzzle of the gun against her temple and pulled the trigger.
HOME INVASION
The doorbell rang. Marian put down her cup of coffee. Her husband had literally just left for work about two minutes ago. Ha
d David perhaps forgotten his keys and locked himself out of the house? She left the kitchen, crossed the living room, and opened the front door.
It was not her husband. It was the same large man who had rung the doorbell yesterday morning. When she’d answered it yesterday, he had introduced himself as Simon and claimed to be a landscaper looking for work. Now, as before, she noticed how his eyes kept peering over her shoulders and looking around at the interior of the house. She had neglected to tell David about the man stopping by yesterday because it hadn’t seemed like a big deal. Now it did.
“Look,” Marian said. “Simon, right?”
He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “You remember me.”
Of course she remembered him. The guy probably stood about six-five or six-six and had to weigh two-sixty at least.
Marian nodded. “Listen, I already told you that we don’t need any landscaping services, so you can stop bothering us now.”
“Oh,” Simon said, “I haven’t even begun to bother you yet.” Then he forced himself inside and knocked her out.
• • •
Marian woke up on her bed with a headache. Simon had punched her on the side of the head and she figured that she was probably bleeding or swollen and bruised. She tried to raise a hand to her head but she couldn’t because her arms were secured to the bedposts. She attempted briefly to slide her wrists out of each set of handcuffs, but the struggle was useless. “Please,” she said. “Just let me go and I won’t say anything.”
Simon, propping himself up on one arm between her legs, reached out and grabbed her chin. “Let you go? I don’t think so.” Then he smiled. “We haven’t even begun.”
Marian started crying. She hated herself for it and the tears made her vision blurry, but she couldn’t help it.
Simon leaned back on his knees with his legs folded beneath him. He let go of her chin and put both hands flat on his thighs, staring at her robe. Then he grabbed the robe and yanked it open, exposing her breasts.
He’s going to rape me, Marian thought. He’s going to rape me and then he’s going to kill me. And he’ll probably torture me before he kills me. Still crying, she pulled her eyes away from his hands and looked up at the ceiling.
She heard a metallic sound in front of her. She looked at Simon and saw that he was now holding a knife. The teeth on the bottom of the blade were shiny in the sunlight streaming through the window.
