Shadow of Perceptoin

by Kristine Mason

  “If the Shop-Vac’s more powerful than a regular vacuum, and could hold…liquid.” Rachel crossed her arms. “I don’t get this guy. Why is he performing—?”

  “Plastic surgery,” Eden interrupted. “He’s performing plastic surgeries on plastic surgeons.”

  “Makes sense,” Hudson agreed. “But we only know for sure that the first victim was a plastic surgeon.”

  “Right,” Eden began. “His specialty happened to be breast implants, and the killer just happened to give him a new set of maggot breasts. The killer told me today that he was judge, jury, and executioner in his OR.” Eden pointed to the screen. “These men did something to him or someone he loved, and now they’re paying for it.”

  “Or,” he countered. “These could be random surgeons who simply represent what the killer doesn’t like.”

  “Air brushed images on magazines. The perception of perfection, yadda yadda,” Rachel said, and rolled her eyes. “I agree with Eden.”

  “So do I,” Hudson said to Rachel. “None of this matters until we ID the other vics, though, unless you found something new on first victim.”

  “I’ve got a few interesting things to share about Dr. Thomas Elliot, but I’d rather get this over with first,” Rachel said, then hit PLAY.

  The killer slapped the top of the Shop-Vac, and waved the vacuum hose. “I love the internet. You can learn so much. It’s where I learned how to navigate through your procedure. Really, though. How hard can this be? A little suck here, another there. It’s not like I have to worry about vacuuming up organs or muscles, or damaging any nerve endings, right?” He cocked his head. “Wait a sec. I do have to worry about those things. Now that I think about it, I’ve seen the damage that can be done if a surgeon isn’t careful.” He elbowed the man’s stomach. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you. When I’m done, you won’t even recognize your own body.”

  “Oh, no,” Eden muttered as the killer reached over and turned on the Shop-Vac.

  Hudson’s stomach lurched as he viewed the torturous scene. He was certain the man probably screamed. But any sound made in the killer’s OR had been drowned out by the Shop-Vac.

  Seconds later, the killer turned off the vacuum. The victim’s muted cries now filtered through the room.

  “Well, this isn’t working, is it?” The killer checked the tip of the funnel. “No problems with this, but maybe I should have used something wider to extract the fat. I guess we’ll just have to improvise.” He picked up the scalpel again and sliced the man’s stomach. Blood oozed from the new wound and pooled on the cement floor. After he hacked through skin and layers of fat, the killer flipped the slab of flesh, exposing yellow, fatty tissue.

  “Oh my God,” Rachel gasped and turned away from the screen.

  Eden gripped his hand. When he looked at her, she’d already closed her eyes and used her other hand to cover her mouth. He wanted to look away as well. Hoping the killer made a mistake, or gave them something they could use to find him or his next victim, he continued to watch.

  “That’s better,” the killer said as he set the scalpel aside, and retrieved the vacuum hose. “Now we can attack those problem areas of yours. You know, if you’d lay off the sweets and hit the gym a few times a week, this wouldn’t have been necessary. Actually, if you had a conscience, you might be at home—quite a nice place, by the by—or maybe playing with your Latin lover at that fancy hotel you seem to enjoy. Instead, you’re stuck in my OR. Literally.” He jabbed the tip of the vacuum hose into the fatty tissue. “You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but I’m not enjoying myself. If only you and your buddies had listened to me.”

  “See,” Eden said, her gaze now riveted on the screen. “He does know the victim.”

  Rachel turned around, and watched the screen, too. “And he just told us that the victims are all connected.”

  The killer turned on the Shop-Vac, and began scraping the razor-sharp tip along the inside of the skin that had once lined the victim’s stomach. The hose sucked the victim’s fat. Small pieces bounced off the plastic hose. The sound of chunks of tissue being swallowed by the vacuum, and mingling with all the blood and fat, caused bile to rise in Hudson’s throat.

  He fought the urge to vomit, and noticed that Eden and Rachel had once again looked away from the atrocious sight. After several minutes, the killer shut off the vacuum. The man didn’t make a sound, and Hudson wondered if, like the last victim, he’d died. Then he noticed a slight rise and fall of his chest. Like with the first vic, he’d probably passed out from the pain.

  “That didn’t go as well as I hoped,” the killer said as he pushed the vacuum aside. “So much for making him look…svelte.” He glanced at the blood staining the cement. “And look at the mess he made.”

  With a shrug, he turned to the camera. “Sorry, Eden, this was probably a rough one to watch.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Rachel said, and took a seat.

  “As I said before,” the killer continued. “He gave me no other choice.” He stripped the bloody gloves from his hands. “Don’t feel sorry for this man. For any of my patients. Justice comes in many forms. Unfortunately for this piece of shit, he had to endure my philosophy of what true justice entails. Before you judge me, think of the many people out there who’ve lost a loved one to a violent crime, only to have the justice system fail them and set the offender free. Personally, obviously.” He smiled. “I believe in an eye for an eye.”

  While Hudson shared the killer’s beliefs, he didn’t think the extent of torture and mutilation he’d made his victims endure was necessary. A quick shot to the head with a .44 would have taken care of the job. He’d witnessed violence, unfathomable carnage, during his years with the Marines and CIA. Those assignments had made the cases he’d worked for CORE look more like child’s play, like a frickin’ playground brawl. He’d been the victim of torture at the hands of a sadistic madman, too. His torture, though, had been given to gain information. As a Marine, the shit he’d seen while serving in Afghanistan had hardened his heart and had made him question the ethics and morality of the human race. During that time, though, he’d been in a war-torn country. Inhumanity, brutality had been common and expected. His missions with the CIA hadn’t been much different. Assassinating ruthless warlords and drug lords had been a dominating part of his job.

  Like their killer, he hadn’t enjoyed snuffing the life out of his assigned targets. Unlike their killer though, Hudson hadn’t made his targets suffer. There had been times when he would have liked to drag out their impending deaths, subject them to atrocities similar to the ones they had committed against innocent people.

  But, just because you’d like to do something, doesn’t mean you should.

  Hudson would like to kill the men who had raped Eden. He wouldn’t though. He had morals. While he also knew, like their killer, that the justice system didn’t always work, he wouldn’t torture Eden’s rapists, at least not physically. The ‘eye for an eye’ ideology, although enticing, didn’t work. Whatever vengeance their killer sought, would only, if caught, send him to prison for life. Sure, the killer had served his justice, but at what cost?

  “Well,” the killer said, and rapped the Shop-Vac with his knuckle. “I guess I should tend to the mess.” He looked at the victim’s disgusting stomach, then winced. “I’d sew him up, but I really don’t see the point. Do you hear that?”

  Rachel raised the volume. “Howling. Just like what we heard during the last DVD.”

  “Sounds like my dinner guests have arrived. Yep, no point in wasting my time stitching my patient’s stomach when they’re only going to tear him apart. Gotta run. Three down, and only one more to go. Expect the last DVD on your doorstep Monday. Until then, please take care of yourself, Eden. ”

  When the DVD ended, Rachel hit PAUSE, then turned to them. “Oh my God,” she said on a gasp. “He is feeding them to dogs.”

  “Or coyotes,” Hudson reminded her. “Did you ever run the bayi
ng we heard during the last DVD against coyotes?”

  “I did, and while I can’t be sure, the sounds were similar.”

  “Coyotes, Chihuahuas, Poodles…does it matter?” Eden asked. “He’s either purposefully slipping in leads, or he doesn’t care.”

  Hudson realized Eden was right, and nodded. “He mentioned the victim’s Latin lover, referred to the other victims as his buddies, he also made it clear that the victim, and I’m assuming the others, too, had done something to someone close to him. Now he’s telling us he’s feeding the victims to dogs, coyotes, or whatever.”

  “So let’s think about it. If this is an ‘eye for an eye’ thing, what could four men have done, and evidently gotten away with, to deserve this kind of torture?” Rachel asked. She moved to the dry erase board that had the list of the leads they’d developed after they’d viewed the last DVD. “I think we can definitely assume his OR is in the country, and he’s feeding the victims to…something. The building he’s using to perform his surgeries is big enough to hold a car, but that wouldn’t help us narrow his location. I’m sure there are plenty of farms with large barns within a two hour drive to Eden’s townhouse.”

  Eden blew out a deep sigh. “I think we should focus on the victims. That’s where we’re going to make the connection. When I spoke to the killer today, he said he loved two women, and they were both dead. Could the men, these victims, have killed those two women?”

  “Death by plastic surgery,” Hudson said, then raised a shoulder when both women looked at him. “It’s just like Eden said earlier. He’s performing plastic surgeries on plastic surgeons.”

  “Again, like you said, we only know for sure Elliot was a plastic surgeon,” Rachel reminded him. “But I like where you’re both heading with this.”

  “When you researched Elliot, did you find out where he’d worked in the past?” Eden asked Rachel. “I’m wondering if maybe the victims were part of a surgery group.”

  “The dentist—if the second vic was a dentist—throws me, though,” Hudson said.

  “True.” Rachel hit a few buttons on the keyboard. “Let’s not forget that vic number two had a tattoo that matched Elliot’s. A little coincidental, don’t ya think?”A few more strokes to her keyboard, and one of the TV screens now showed the information Rachel had compiled on Dr. Thomas Elliot. “Okay, meet our first vic. Forty-five. No kids. He graduated from the University of Michigan, was a member of Sigma Alpha Mu fraternity, as we suspected. Although he did have a hefty alimony check to write to his ex each month, his finances are in order. No major debt. No glaring, large bank deposits that might raise some red flags.”

  “Can you get a list of men who graduated with Elliot and were also in the same fraternity?” Hudson asked. “See if any had gone into dentistry, and live in the Chicago area.”

  “Already done,” she said, and with a few strokes to the keyboard a short list of Chicago area dentists appeared. “I also checked if any other men Elliot graduated with, whether they were in his fraternity or not, went into plastic surgery.”

  “How nice of the college to hand over that information,” Hudson said with a smile, knowing Rachel likely had hacked into their computer system.

  “Ah…yeah, that’s right. They were most helpful. Anyway, believe it or not, I came up empty on that route.”

  “What about Elliot’s current and past places of employment?” Eden asked.

  Another few clicks to the keyboard and the victim’s information filled the screen. “He’s worked at only three places. After finishing his residency at Lakeview Hospital, here in Chicago, he stayed on there for about eight years. Then he worked at Cosmetic Solutions and Med Spa, which is also in Chicago, for three years, left there and then began his private practice out of the two medical centers in Oak Park and Western Springs.”

  “Maybe he worked with the other victims,” Eden suggested, then furrowed her forehead. “I still can’t see what these men did that would cause the killer to go to such extremes.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Why don’t we start with the list of dentists? I can make those calls when we’re finished here.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Rachel said. “I’d planned to, but didn’t have the chance yet. I just got all of this info early this morning.” She tapped the keyboard, and seconds later the printer spat out a piece of paper. “Wait here. I’m going to run to my office and call the dentists’ offices.”

  When Rachel left the room, Hudson gave Eden’s hand a squeeze, then released it and rose. “According to this information,” he said as he studied the data on the screen. “Elliot began practicing breast augmentation a little over eighteen years ago. During the first DVD, I remember the killer saying he’d been planning this a long time. I’m wondering how long.”

  Stuffing his hands into his pockets he thought back to the night he’d viewed the first DVD. At the time, he’d tried to talk Ian out of assigning him this case. He didn’t investigate. He’d always been given a name, then told to hunt and track, and bring the assignment down by any means possible.

  Ian had told him that hunting and tracking criminals was just another side to investigating. Right now, Hudson didn’t agree. After spending years as a successful reporter, Eden probably had better investigating skills than he did, and Rachel had spent several years in Army Intelligence. Compared to these women, he felt more like the kid who used to lick the chalkboard back at his old elementary school, rather than an agent.

  Frustrated with himself, with the inability to put a stop to the killer, he released a deep breath. “After Rachel’s done with her calls, I’ll take you to the station.”

  Eden rose, then moved across the room. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Afterward, do you think we should go to Elliot’s offices in Oak Park and Western Springs?”

  He rested his chin on the top of her head, and smoothed his hands over her back. “I doubt the other victims would have a connection to him through his private practice. If they knew each other, my guess is that they’d worked together at either Lakeview Hospital or Cosmetic Solutions and Med Spa.”

  “Makes sense,” she said as she stepped back and studied him. “What’s bothering you?”

  “Oh, I dunno, maybe watching a guy get liposuction with a Shop-Vac,” he said, and looked away.

  She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. “And?” she prompted.

  He looked down at her. Riveted by her penetrating, knowing eyes, he held her gaze. She’d trusted him enough to disclose her past to him. He needed to trust her enough to share his insecurities. After everything she’d told him, and all of the things he hadn’t bothered to disclose about himself, he owed her as much. He owed her the truth. “I’m worried I won’t be able to stop him before he kills his next victim.”

  “We,” she corrected him. “This isn’t just your burden. We all have stake in this.” She cupped his cheeks. “And I believe in you. In us. We’ll find him.”

  She believed in him. In them.

  With her faith in him, in what they could accomplish together, he was no longer the chalkboard licker. He held her head, and brought his lips close to hers. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. Sorry I was having a…moment.”

  “It’s called self-doubt,” she said with a small smile. “You can’t be a badass all the time, you know. You’re allowed to have a…moment.”

  He stole a quick kiss, then asked, “Speaking from experience?”

  “Me? No. I said you can’t be a badass all the time. I’m always a badass,” she finished with a grin.

  “How could I have forgotten?” he murmured, then kissed her again.

  “I can remind you later. I’m assuming you have a set of handcuffs.”

  Before his body went into sexual overdrive, he stepped back, and held his hands in the air as if surrendering. “I do. But let’s not discuss them or what I’m not going to let you do to me. Well, at least not until we’re alone. The last thing I need is for—”

/>   “Holy shit,” Rachel shouted as she burst through the door. “You’re not going to believe this. I just found our second victim.”

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “Dr. Brian Westly, DDS.”

  Chapter 17

  Pudge tended to Mama. Changed her colostomy bag, cleaned her bed sores, then gave the bitch a large snack consisting of barbeque chips and chocolate chip cookies.

  choke choke choke on it

  Hiding a smile, Pudge ignored the voice, then said to Mama, “I need to do some shopping. The new nurse should be here any minute. Hopefully I’ll catch her before I go. I hate to leave the front door unlocked while I’m gone. You never know what kind of crazy person might walk in.”

  Mama shook her head. Her cheeks jiggled as she frowned. “What new nurse?”

  “The agency called and said you’d asked for Gretchen to stop by today. But Gretchen isn’t available any longer, so they’re sending you someone new.”

  Mama shifted her focus to the TV. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d called and changed your scheduled appointment?”

  scheming scheming mamas up to something scheming

  Pudge agreed. Mama rarely changed her appointments, and when she had, she’d always made Pudge do it for her. For Mama to have taken the initiative herself led Pudge to believe the woman was up to something.

  money money inheritance mama will take away the money

  “Aren’t you going to answer me, Mama?” When Mama didn’t respond, Pudge slammed a couple of cans of grape soda on the bed tray. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to change and get ready to leave.”

  Pudge left Mama to her snacks and TV show, gathered supplies from the bathroom, then once in the privacy of the bedroom, reached into the closet for the uniform they’d purchased a few days ago.

  Holding the scrubs in front of the mirror, Pudge smiled. “This is going to be fun.”

  yes yes hello nurse nancy hello

  *