by Mary Monroe
“Calvin, I wish you would hurry up and tell me what’s really going on. Are you punking me?” After all I’d seen and heard so far, this was a very stupid question. I knew I was not being punked, but I had to ask anyway. In the back of the whirlpool in my head, I still thought there was a chance that I was dreaming. His explosive response removed that doubt.
“YOU STUPID COW!” he roared. “Do you want me to pull this trigger and show you this is not a fucking joke?” He raised the gun and pointed it at my head.
Everything seemed surreal, and my body felt as light as a feather. I was surprised that I hadn’t floated up off the couch by now. I sat with my trembling hands in my lap and my blood pressure rising. “Calvin, I can’t believe you’ve killed three women.”
He laughed again and shook his head. “Three? The number is a lot higher than that. I’ve been doing this so long, I’ve lost count. And each one had it coming—hitchhikers, hookers, and other skanky women like Glinda. Most of them didn’t look like her, but at the end of the day all whores deserve to die. The only thing I was sorry about after I killed my wife was that I could kill her only one time. Then I got the notion that I could relive the experience by killing whores who looked like her. You look more like Glinda than any of the others, and that’s why you’re so special.”
“I don’t believe what I’m hearing!”
“Then you’re dumber than I thought! You told me you’d read one of the newspaper articles about those three missing women. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice how much they resembled each other.”
“I . . . I . . . I did notice that,” I stammered. My head felt as if it were going to disconnect from my body.
“Missing hitchhikers don’t get too much media attention, because their bodies usually end up in places where they’ll never be found. But I know you read about that hooker they found in an alley a few weeks ago. They pinned the murder on her pimp and he’s doing time for it, but I’m the one who did the crime.” He laughed some more. It was an eerie, high-pitched cackle. This time he sounded like the maniac he was claiming to be.
“Are you telling me that the only reason you contacted me in the first place was so you could kill me because I look like your wife?”
“That was the main reason, but since you’re such a fine-ass bitch, I wanted a piece of ass too. I call that my bonus.”
“You won’t get away with this!” I sobbed.
“No body, no crime. Now stop boo-hooing and get your filthy ass up! You’re coming with me—”
“The hell I will!”
“The hell you won’t! I’ve been planning to murder you for a long time. My plans changed from time to time, but I knew I’d never rest until you were dead. Believe it or not, you’ll be my last victim. Then I can begin to heal from the pain Glinda caused me and go on with my life. By the way, I’m getting married next month. The day I called you while you were having lunch with some asshole, my fiancée and I had a nice engagement party in Vegas. Tonight I had dinner with her and her family. And next weekend my boss and some of my buddies are having a bachelor party for me. While I was in Vegas, just thinking about you caused me to take out my anger on a sleazy little Korean whore. That bitch actually recovered, but not enough to finger me. Jail is not on my agenda, so I have to make sure I do the job right on you! Even though your body is going into my freezer, and I’ll eventually have the damn thing dumped in some remote location, I might chop off a few of your body parts just for sport!”
I was so numb by the time Calvin ended his long-winded rant, I thought I had had a silent stroke and was now paralyzed. I was surprised that I was still able to speak. “You’ve killed a bunch of women and you’re going to kill me, and you think you’re going to go on and live a normal life?” My voice was so low and raspy, nobody would have recognized it.
“Nothing is ‘normal’ anymore, baby. Normal is the new crazy, and if you ask me, every human being on this planet has a dark side, some much darker than others, of course. And if that’s true, and I believe it is, if there’s a hell below, we’re all gonna go. Now get your ass up and get dressed! I don’t want to have to tell you again!” He glanced at his watch. “I have a run to do tomorrow, so I have to get up early.”
I wanted to cry some more, but I was in such a state of shock and disbelief, so I couldn’t. I was barely still able to speak. “Wh—why don’t you just shoot me now and get it over with?” I choked.
“Pffft! That would be too quick and easy. I’ve spent too much time and energy planning this event. I’m going to make you suffer as much as you’ve made me suffer. You’re going to curse the day you decided to hook up with me. When we get to where we’re going tonight, I’m going to take my good old time so you’ll have plenty of time to think and pray about everything. And then I’m going to strangle you! Any questions?”
“You bastard! I’m not going anywhere with you! If you want to kill me, you’ll have to do it here! And I’m not going down without a fight!” I was trying to think of everything I could say to stall him. I glanced around the room, but I quickly returned my attention to his face. I couldn’t let him know that Joan had tiptoed into the room and was creeping up behind him. Her cell phone was in her hand and she was recording everything! And I was so glad to see her holding that can of pepper spray I’d advised her to get rid of.
Chapter 57
Joan
I HAD NOT BEEN SLEEPING WELL SINCE REED LEFT ME. NO MATTER what time I went to bed, I usually stayed awake for an hour or longer. On top of that, I had suddenly become a very light sleeper.
I had just dozed off when I heard a man’s voice coming from Lola’s living room. My first thought was that it was her oafish stepbrother, Marshall. It would not have surprised me if he had come to teach Lola a lesson for blowing the whistle on Libby’s affair. It didn’t take but a few seconds for me to realize it was not Marshall’s voice. It was one I had never heard.
At first I was too groggy to understand what the man was saying. Since it was not Marshall, or that pesky Elbert, the most logical conclusion I could come to was that one of the ex-cons in the halfway house next door had gotten loose and broken in. Lola and I were both in danger of being raped, beaten, and maybe even murdered! The reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I crawled out of the sleeping bag and crept closer to the door. What I heard made my flesh crawl. Calvin had broken into the house and was holding Lola at gunpoint! I grabbed my cell phone, crept into the closet, and dialed 911. I had to whisper, but the dispatcher heard all she needed to hear. I ended the call and eased out of the closet, praying that the cops would get to us in time. I got the pepper spray out of my purse and started moving toward the door. When Calvin told Lola the reason he had come to kill her and about the women he had already killed, I started recording them on my cell phone.
There was no telling what would have happened if I had not decided to spend the night with Lola. Had Calvin kidnapped and killed my best friend and put her body in that freezer, I probably would have never known what happened to her.
Ironically, Reed was the main reason Lola was not going to die. It was because of him that I was too depressed and angry to be alone in my own home tonight. I was still mad as hell and I was not through with him yet. But tonight I was glad he was such an asshole.
I always thought that Calvin sounded too good to be true, and I never would have guessed that he was a psycho serial killer all along. The boogeyman responsible for the missing women we had read about, plus the murders he’d confessed to Lola, had been hiding in plain sight all this time. This sucker had finally met his match. His butt was mine!
Lola looked right in my eyes as soon as I entered the room with the can of pepper spray in one hand and my cell phone in the other. She quickly looked back at Calvin and he continued talking. Right after he ordered her to get up and get dressed, I jumped from behind him and started spraying his face. I held my breath so I wouldn’t inhale too many fumes. The look of surprise on his face was priceless. �
��YOU—YOU BITCH!” he blasted. He dropped the gun and fell to the floor wiping his eyes, kicking like a wild bronco, and screaming like a banshee.
“The cops are on the way!” I yelled to Lola. “Get his gun!”
She scrambled up off the couch, ran across the floor, and picked up the gun. “Motherfucker, if you try to get up, I will blow your head off!” she hollered. It was so hard to believe that this was the same man she had been fantasizing about marrying. The whole situation was hard to believe, period.
“Now I’m going to send both of you whores to hell!” Calvin roared. He was still wiping his eyes and writhing in agony.
“Oh yeah? And you’ll be going with us!” I kicked his side as hard as I could with my bare foot. Then I leaned over and sprayed his face from ear to ear.
“AAARRRGGGHHH! STOP!” he screeched hysterically as he covered his face with his hands. He was still kicking when Lola got closer to him. The next thing I knew, he tripped her. She didn’t fall, but she dropped the gun. He felt around until he got his hands on it. And then he staggered up. I was out of pepper spray by now, but my cell phone was still recording.
Even though Calvin couldn’t see us clearly, if he started randomly firing his gun, he could hit and kill one or both of us!
Lola and I had been in tight spots before. We had always been lucky enough to wiggle our asses out and land on our feet.
Our luck had finally run out. This time we were in real trouble.
Chapter 58
Lola
WHEN WE WERE IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, JOAN AND I HAD VOWED that we’d be BFFs until the day we died. That prediction was about to come true because we were going to die together tonight. My prediction that something yellow would be associated with my death was too. I had been diligent about avoiding this color for decades. Here I was now in a yellow house with a self-confessed serial killer pointing a gun at my head. I believed that the mysterious chill I’d felt when I saw the house for the first time had been an omen that something really bad was going to happen to me.
Once the whole convoluted story got out, the gossips would have a field day, but only if somebody found our bodies and Calvin got caught. The thought of being put into a freezer with the corpses of three strangers turned my stomach. When I thought about how I’d made a fool of myself wallowing around in bed with this monster, telling him all my personal business, I actually got sick. Hot, slimy puke landed on my bare feet. I hopped and screamed, and when I did, Calvin fired the first shot. The bullet whizzed so close to my face, I smelled the gunpowder.
He stopped wiping his eyes and started blinking real hard. He was coughing and cussing and calling us every nasty name in the book as he stumbled in my direction. “This is one fucked-up night, but I’m going to make it right again!” he wheezed. Tears were oozing from his bloodshot eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was crying because he was upset or because of the pepper spray. His face was so contorted, he didn’t even look like a human being anymore. His face looked like a mask, and in a way he had been wearing one all along. I was staring at true evil. And I had nobody to blame but myself. But I was going to delay my soul’s one-way trip to hell as long as I could. When Calvin got within a couple of feet of me, I kicked his leg hard enough to make him fall back to the floor, but he held on to his gun and was back on his feet within seconds.
“Calvin, please put the gun down!” Joan pleaded. “Think about what you’re doing! I have a son to raise!”
“Bah! Don’t make me laugh! Whores like you should not even be allowed to have children. Your son will be much better off without you in his life. Shit. If he finds out someday that I was the one who finished your ass off, he might thank me,” he taunted. Then he let out that eerie laugh again. “Now, I want both of you skanks to get dressed. We’re going to take a ride over to San Jose.” He wiped his eyes and coughed some more. The fumes from the pepper spray were making me nauseated, so he had to be in extreme distress. “Okay, you bitches from hell! I’m . . . I’m . . .” His voice trailed off and he swayed from side to side. I thought he was going to hit the floor again, but then he stopped swaying and stood as straight as a pole, glaring from Joan to me. “I’m going to make—” He stopped. Somebody had kicked open the door!
“DROP THE GUN!” a loud voice boomed. It was the sweetest sound I had ever heard in my life. The burly Hispanic cop standing in the doorway clutching his gun with both hands looked like an angel. Before I knew it, several more cops holding guns rushed in. “Drop the gun and put your hands in the air!” the first officer told Calvin.
“Fuck you!” Calvin scowled at the cops and held on to his gun. When he pointed it at the officer, all hell broke loose. I had no idea how many shots were fired and how many of them struck Calvin. But before he went down, he managed to shoot one of the officers in the head. That poor man was dead before he hit the floor.
Joan stumbled over to one of the cops and threw herself into his arms, crying hysterically. I was so stunned, I just stood still and stared at Calvin lying on his back. He was still conscious, and so combative, it took four officers to hold him in place. Despite all the chaos, he still managed to look up at me. I had never seen so much hatred and anger in another person’s eyes. If his glare alone could have killed me, I’d have dropped dead on the spot. Even though I stood at least five feet away from him, he hawked gobs of spit in my direction several times.
The cops treated him for chemical exposure and they took care of his wounds as well as they could. Five minutes later, two ambulances arrived. One group of EMTs loaded the dead policeman into a body bag and hauled him away. The others treated the gunshot wounds Calvin had sustained, but it did no good. He died a few minutes later.
After Joan and I had composed ourselves and got dressed, we were ushered out the door, surrounded by half a dozen cops. A caravan of police cars was parked on both sides of the street. Dozens of looky-loo neighbors lined the sidewalk, and a local TV news van had just pulled up.
We were transported to the police station to give our statements. Joan’s horrified parents were in the lobby when we came out of the interview room, and they made her go home with them. She was almost delirious by now, so she was in no shape to resist. From the dirty looks I got from Pearline and Elmo, I was not surprised that they didn’t extend the same invitation to me. I had nobody to turn to, and I felt lonelier than I’d ever felt in my life.
I didn’t want to wait around for the police to take me home, so I walked the quarter of a mile back to my house. All of the neighbors, the news van, and most of the police officers had left. Joan’s car, which had been parked in the driveway next to mine, was gone. There was yellow crime scene tape wrapped around the house, but a very sympathetic policewoman escorted me inside so I could get some clothes and other personal items. She even helped me load everything into my car. I knew that if I didn’t remove the rest of my property in a timely manner, the landlady had the right to keep or dispose of everything I’d left behind. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want to spend another minute in that house, not even to collect the rest of my stuff.
It was the worst night of my life. While I drove around looking for another cheap motel, my chest heaving and my heart pounding, disturbing thoughts buzzed around in my head like killer bees. My brain felt like scrambled eggs, so it was hard for me to process everything that had happened in the last few hours. I felt like a zombie and probably looked like one too.
While I had been floating around on cloud nine fantasizing about marrying Calvin, he’d been planning to kill me! I was glad he was dead, because I could not have faced him in a courtroom. If he had survived and gone to prison, I would have lived in fear for the rest of my life. I knew it would be a long time before I trusted another man, and I’d probably never fall in love again.
A sudden panic attack forced me to pull into a vacant lot. While I was trying to catch my breath and hold back my tears, my cell phone rang. It was Elbert. “Thank God you answered!” he hollered. “When they interrupted the late-nigh
t movie with the news about what had happened to you and Joan, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I managed, choking on a sob. I had to take a few deep breaths before I could continue. “I packed a few things so I’ll be checking into another motel as soon as I find one I can afford.”
“Motel? Sweet Jesus, Lola!” Elbert wheezed so hard it sounded as if he was sitting right next to me. “You don’t have to go to a motel. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re welcome to move in with Mama and me and stay as long as you want? In the first place, if you would have taken me up on my offer when you got kicked out of Bertha’s house, you wouldn’t be in the mess you’re in now.”
There was no doubt in my mind that even if I had moved in with Elbert, Calvin would have found me. He had been determined to kill me and would have tonight if the cops had not killed him first. I wasn’t going to say too much to people about him and our relationship because I didn’t want them to know the whole story and how reckless and immoral I’d been. Despite Elbert’s steadfast holiness, I didn’t think even he would want to associate with a vile, stupid, whorish fool like me if he knew I’d been having sex with strangers I’d met online and that Calvin had been one of them.
“Elbert, thank you again, but I don’t want to stay in your house.” I was in such a vulnerable state, I was afraid that if he proposed to me again while I was under his roof, I’d be too helpless to turn him down.
Chapter 59
Lola
TWO HOURS AFTER I HAD CHECKED INTO THE RED DOG MOTEL, I turned on my laptop. It was seven a.m. and I had slept less than an hour since the night before. I had received e-mail messages from a dozen people I had not heard from in years and four from people I couldn’t even remember. My daddy’s estranged brother in Anaheim had even left a message for me on Facebook. He advised me to get back to him as soon as possible so he could “pick my brain” because he wanted to sell a story to a tabloid! My uncle had had nothing to do with me since I was a little girl, and now he was trying to make money off my pain. I was so appalled I didn’t even reply.
