Hallowed Horror

by Mark Tufo

  “He’s got a crew of people working on the fucking house.” Roger stared through the binoculars. “Fuck me…they’re installing a security system!”

  “They’re what?!”

  “Shut up, fucker!” Roger swatted at the addict and sent him cowering deeper behind the brush they were hiding in. He turned back toward the house and held the optics to his face again. “They’ve been going around the clock, running cables and mounting cameras. I wasn’t sure, but they just put motion sensor lights up, and that one box they brought in was a controller for a security system.”

  “Are you sure?” Casper asked, hoping he didn’t get hit again.

  Roger sighed and slumped into the dirt next to him. “Yeah, I’m sure. I seen one just like it a little bit back.” He put the dust caps back on the binoculars. “I helped Jimmy Lomax install one of those over in Dallas. He paid me three hunnerd dollars to help him.” His mind reflected back to the hot dusty work crawling through the attic space of the huge house and all of the super nice things inside of it. “I made mention to Jimmy that we could easily come back and sneak in and clean ‘em out and he just about fired me from the job.” He glanced at Casper and shook his head. “Can you believe the bastard is trying to go straight?”

  “So what happened?”

  “Well, that was where I saw it. That doohickey they brung in. It’s like the brains of the outfit. It’s like this computer thing that can keep running even if the power is cut and if the phone line is cut, it has a built in cell phone that can call the cops.” He shook his head. “It’s a bad mother, I tell ya.”

  Casper slumped deeper in the dirt. “What do we do then?”

  “I’m thinking.” Roger ran a hand through his greasy hair. “We can’t sneak up on it, cuz it can see us coming. We can’t move slowly enough because of the motion sensors. And if what Jimmy said was right, it can detect heat as well so if like, a big paper bag blew across the front, it won’t set it off by mistake.”

  “So we couldn’t just let loose a bunch of balloons and make it go off a bunch of times ‘til the cops get tired of coming out?”

  “Naw, there ain’t no foolin’ it. It’s twice as smart as you,” he said absently.

  “That still ain’t saying a whole lot,” Casper added.

  “No, you can’t be coy with it.” He scratched at the ants biting his exposed ass crack. “Sneaky gets you caught. But maybe we can overpower it.”

  “Huh?” Casper looked at him as if he were speaking Chinese.

  “Think about it, dumbass. If you can’t sneak up on it, we just do a full frontal assault. We hit the thing with everything we got. It’s got these super-sensitive sensors, right?”

  “I guess so,” Casper said, unsure what the correct answer was. “So we do what? Drive the truck into the house? They’d just run the plates and know it was us.”

  Roger stared at the man a moment before shaking his head. “Is there enough brain cells left in there for you to walk and breathe at the same time? For reals?” Casper gave him a blank stare. “We don’t drive the fucking truck into the house you dumbshit. We toss the dynamite at it. Make the system go all wonky.”

  Casper’s eyes grew wide with realization. “Oh! I get it now.” Then he looked at Roger again, “But won’t they know that we’re blowing their shit up?”

  Roger seriously contemplated simply cutting the skinnier man’s throat right there and leaving him behind, but he let the thought escape before he acted on it. “No, Cas, we don’t. We wait until they’re gone, then we set the system to go wonky. We blow their shit up, we slip in, grab the goods and get out.”

  “Ah, okay,” Casper said, smiling now. “I’m following you.”

  “God, I hope so. ‘Cuz I swear if I had to explain it to you again, I’d have you hold the dynamite for me.”

  Casper nodded. “I could do that, ya know. I’ve got real steady hands.”

  Roger sighed. “I know you do, Cas. I know you do.”

  *****

  Brenda handed over another stack of sheets from the printer and Jeff correlated them according to which pile they belonged. Justin continued to cross reference each murder victim’s history, all the way back to childhood. Denise was in Scott’s office talking with representatives of the different prison systems trying to determine who the convicts’ cellmates were, their affiliations while behind bars, who they may have worked with, anything that could be a causal link between the victims.

  “This is pointless,” Jeff said, placing his pen down and getting another cup of coffee. “There is nothing that ties these turds together other than the fact that they were all about to commit a rape…” he paused in mid pour and turned to stare at Justin who was looking past his paperwork and staring at the wall.

  Zimmer leaned back in the chair and turned to him. “Go on.”

  “Well, think about it.” Jeff finished topping off his coffee. “Okay, yeah, these are all bad guys, and with the exception of the first one, this Culley kid, they were all committing another crime and just tossed the sexual assault in for fun it seems.”

  “So our serial killer is targeting rapists?” Justin asked for clarification.

  Jeff sat back down and nodded. “I’m thinking so.” He flipped through the victim’s jackets and studied their records. Shaking his head he looked back at Justin, “None of them had ever been arrested before for sexual assault.”

  “Maybe they just weren’t caught.”

  “I can buy that,” Eckerson said as he flipped through more papers. “None of them have reports of being sexually assaulted in prison either.”

  “Okay, I’m liking this. At least we have an angle to work. But what does it mean?”

  “It means you can gather everything you’ve found so far and prepare a summary for me,” a female voice said from the counter.

  Both men turned to find Brenda standing next to a petite brunette with stunning green eyes. A Texas Ranger badge pinned to her chest.

  “Sorry, guys,” Brenda said, cocking her head towards their visitor. “She just waltzed in here like she owned the place.” The disdain in her voice obvious.

  “Fucking great,” Justin murmured. “We finally find an angle and in prances the trained pony.”

  “I’ve been called many things before…” she said, a slow smile forming. She had a mischievous glimmer in her eye and a swagger to her step as she sauntered around the counter and faced the trio of deputies. “Who’s in charge of this investigation?”

  Eckerson and Burress both pointed to Justin. He looked at them sideways and shook his head at them. “Justin Zimmer, Undersheriff and lead investigator.”

  “Sheryn Sanders, trained pony.” She smiled as she stuck her hand out.

  “Ooh, a trained pony and an untrained ass,” Eckerson smiled. He turned to Denise, “Hitch up the wagon, Martha. We’s goin’ to town!” She rolled her eyes at him and leaned against the file cabinet hard with her hip.

  “You got here a lot faster than I thought you would.” Zimmer shook her hand.

  “As soon as the ME’s reports came in, DPS dispatched me as a sort of scout. I’m supposed to spearhead things, assess the situation and conclude how large of a task force we’ll need,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Task force?” Zimmer repeated. “What task force?”

  “You have five murders in less than three days, deputy. I’d say you need—”

  “Whoa, back up.” Jeff interrupted. “How did you find out about the newest kills?”

  She turned and smiled at him. “First stop was the ME’s office to pick up hard copies of his files and take a look at the bodies.” She flipped her copy of the files down on the table. “Your boy here sure makes a mess of his victims.”

  “So you don’t even bother to stop by and let anybody know that you’ve blown into town first, you just jump in and hope the water’s deep enough?” Justin asked.

  “Something like that,” she answered, still smiling sweetly.

  Justin continued to star
e at the tiny woman with her large shimmering eyes and glowing smile and found it impossible to keep a hard glare pinned on her. He had to fight the urge to smile back. From the corner of his eye he could see Eckerson grinning like a possum buddying up to a skunk at mating season and he wanted to kick the older man square in the shins.

  “Fine, Denise, pull everything we got on these cases for the good Ranger here. Make sure Ms. Sanders has everything she needs.” he said a bit too curtly.

  “You got it, boss.” Denise began pulling the files and making copies.

  “If you’ll give her a few minutes to copy the files for our records,” Justin said. “Protocols, you understand.”

  “Of course, Deputy,” Sheryn continued to smile. “If you don’t mind, I’d love a cup of that coffee.”

  “Here, let me get that for you,” Jeff offered, making Justin’s blood boil a little harder. “How do you take it?”

  “Oh, just the way I like my men.”

  “Blonde and sweet?” Jeff smiled at her, his brows wagging up and down.

  Sheryn leaned against the counter and smiled even sweeter. “Black and bitter, sweetie. And the stronger the better.”

  Jeff paused and simply stared at her, the cup in his hand flipping limp around his finger.

  14

  Ginger finished pumping the gas and stuck her head back into the RV. “You guys want anything from the Quicky Mart while I’m in there?”

  Quinn looked up from the research material they were studying. “Beef jerky?” Ginger nodded and looked toward Cal. Quinn elbowed him to get his attention. “Hey, Ginger’s getting snacks. You want anything?”

  “Apple juice, please. Quinn, look at this and tell me if you see anything that I’m missing.” He handed her the papers he had been going over.

  Ginger watched the two open-mouthed and shook her head. “The sexual tension in this RV is just SO overwhelming,” she said a little too loudly as she turned to go into the convenience store.

  Quinn’s head popped up and her eyes followed Ginger to the store. “Did she just…”

  Calvin sighed and took his glasses off. “Yes, she did. I simply don’t know where she gets these ideas from.” His eyes locked with hers for a moment and he felt his chest tighten. His hands suddenly became very sweaty and his collar felt very tight. He rotated his neck to stretch the collar, but it seemed to only make it tighter. “Is it getting like really smokin’ hot in here or is it just you?”

  Quinn was staring back at him, her mind lost in fantasy where Calvin pulls off his glasses, tosses them to the side and pulls her to him roughly. She could almost feel him taking her into his arms and bending her over the table to plant rough, stubbly kisses all over her neck and mouth. She only half heard him when he spoke and his words barely registered with her hormone rattled brain.

  “What?” She blinked rapidly. “Hot? Yes, it seems pretty hot to me,” she said breathily.

  She leaned in closer toward him and he moved ever so slowly toward her. He could feel his mouth watering at the sight of her luscious lips and he lost focus of her as their faces grew closer. He could feel the heat from her face as their mouths closed in, closer to their targets.

  “Let’s get the road on the show!” Ginger yelled, stepping into the RV and breaking the spell of their moment.

  She tossed the bag of jerky to Quinn, who let it hit the padded couch beside her. She gave the plastic bottle of apple juice a soft toss to Cal who missed it as well. It slipped through his fingers and hit him in the chest then rolled to the floor.

  “Good catch there, Pete Rose. Anybody need to do more than drain the lizard before we blow this popsicle stand?” She slipped back behind the wheel of the giant Winnebago and looked up into the rear view mirror, noticing the two sitting at the table in the rear looking flustered. “No? Okay then.” She brought the large V-8 engine to life. “On the road again…” she sang.

  *****

  Maria Santiago went about her daily chores, cleaning the house and preparing the meals for her boss, Mr. Miller. He was not a kind man, she knew. She could see it in his eyes and could tell by the way he treated most of the people who came to visit him, but he wasn’t mean to her. In fact, he barely noticed her as long as she did her job and wasn’t late for work. She had often thought that she would have liked to have been appreciated, but she preferred to be anonymous where he was concerned.

  At one point in her life, half of her familia worked for Mr. Miller doing one job or another. Her husband Julio had worked as the groundskeeper for many years until he passed away two years prior. His pickup was hit head on by a drunk driver and he was killed instantly. Mr. Miller couldn’t understand at first why she wanted the day off, and he was more upset that he had to find a new groundskeeper, but eventually, she was able to explain that Julio didn’t quit, he was dead. And once she explained that he was her husband, Mr. Miller understood why she might need a day off ‘to get her affairs in order.’

  Her son Sergio had also worked for Mr. Miller alongside his father doing odd jobs. Once he was old enough, his job moved to his main interest, horses. He became one of Mr. Miller’s lead trainers at his horse ranch south of town. Although Maria rarely saw Sergio anymore, he still called her regularly and they shared holidays together.

  She had worked her way through the house, trying to clean up behind the workmen who tracked dirt into the house or left packaging behind as they unboxed their equipment. She would prepare small meals or drinks for them so that they could continue working because she knew that the sooner they were done, the sooner they were out of the way and out Mr. Miller’s hair.

  She went room to room, ensuring that everything they disturbed was put back just the way Mr. Miller liked it. Anything that may have been dirtied was quickly cleaned and put back into service.

  By the end of the day, she was exhausted, but she knew that the house was as close to the same as it ever could be. She let herself back to her quarters and was about to simply drop into bed when something on the pillow caught her eye. She stared at the small velvet box and cocked her head to the side. At first she feared that one of the workmen had found their way back to her room and had violated her privacy, but she soon quelled those fears.

  She picked up the small box and opened it. Her eyes slowly widened with the surprise inside, but it was the note that caught her most by surprise. She opened it up and it read simply, ‘Thank you, -M’.

  She sat down on the edge of her bed and clutched the small gift to her breast and smiled sadly to herself. She fought not to allow herself to become emotional, but she knew that for Mr. Miller to show any sign of gratitude other than a simple paycheck was so out of character for the man that it defied logic.

  She felt a lump in her throat and her breath came in spasms as she tried to hold it back, but it finally came out and she allowed the tears to flow. Happy tears, her son would have called them.

  *****

  Constable Gregory sat down at Ruby’s and ordered coffee. He set down his expanding file and pulled out the manila folders, placing them on the corner of the table. Pulling out the individual files, he opened a notebook and began compiling a list of names. Culley, Vines, Flores, Tolliver…he knew there had to be a connection.

  Ruby brought him a cup of coffee and sat down across from him. “You working the murders too, Ben?”

  He looked up at her and he looked much older than she remembered. “Yes, ma’am.” He took a sip of the coffee and gave her a soft smile. “The boys at county don’t want the help from a lowly constable. Apparently we aren’t as important as they are,” he mocked.

  “Oh, poo.” She flipped her hand toward him. “There’s a pecking order in everything these days, ain’t there? If you ask me, people ought to work together on something if’n it’s important.”

  Ben smiled at her. “I agree, Ruby.” He sighed and pushed the notebook away. “Too bad others don’t see things that way.”

  “Well, I don’t know if it makes any difference, but rumor h
as it that the Rangers are here.” She shot him a smirk. “You know what that means, don’tcha?”

  His face fell and he shook his head. “They’ll be taking over.”

  “A little taste of their own medicine, if you ask me.”

  “It ain’t right though, Ruby. It’s their case.”

  She glanced at his notebook. “Is it?” she asked, nodding her head to his work.

  He blushed slightly. “This is just a little something that I’m doing in my spare time. Trying to answer some of my own questions.”

  She eyed him suspiciously then smiled at him. “Something tells me that here very shortly, you may be the only local still working it.” She stood and wiped her hands on her apron. “Seems to me that would make it your case, wouldn’t it?”

  “No, ma’am. It doesn’t work that way. Once the Rangers step in, they own it.”

  “Then why are you still working it?” she asked, her smile widening.

  He glanced out the window and shook his head. “Like I said, Ruby. I just have some questions I need answered.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She patted his shoulder. “How about some pecan pie to go with your humble pie?”

  Ben smiled at her, “Shoot, I’d be stupid to say no to that.”

  Ruby slipped behind the counter and prepared him a slice of pie while he turned back to his list. He circled the names and pushed them toward the edge of the table. Pulling out the folders, he flipped through the statements he’d taken from the women he’d interviewed. He knew there had to be something that tied these men together if he could find a common thread.

  Ruby came back and placed the pie on the table. She glanced at the list of name and pulled it closer to her. “What’s this, Ben?”

  He glanced over to see what she had, “That’s a list of the victims. Didn’t it list them in the newspaper?”

  “No, it didn’t. Names were withheld…ya know, something looks familiar here,” she said absently as she ran her finger down the list.