Kissing Trouble

by Morgana Phoenix

  “All right, tell me what he looks like.”

  Nixon nodded. “Well, he’s about five-nine.”

  “And?” Reynolds prompted when that was all Nixon said.

  “And I don’t know what else.”

  With an agitated huff, Reynolds smacked his pen and pad down on the table. “Doc, you need to give me something to work with here. You tell me there’s a mass serial killer on the loose, has been for the last five years, but you can’t tell me his patterns, his description, or where I can find him next.”

  “His appearance changes,” Nixon explained. “Jimmy had dark hair, almost black and brown eyes. He was pale and about a hundred and fifty pounds. But all of that can be changed and he is an expert chameleon. He will change his hair, his eyes, and even gain weight if that is his character.”

  Reynolds ground his knuckles into the back of his eyelids until Julie feared he would gouge his eyeballs out. There were red marks when he finally lowered his hands. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Okay, tell me about his patterns. How does he kill? Does he have a specific tell? How does he find his marks?”

  Nixon thought about this a moment. His dirty fingers drummed on the table. He stared off at something behind the sheriff, like all the answers lay written on the wall.

  “Doctor?” Reynolds prompted when Nixon took too long.

  Nixon sucked in most of the air in the room and observed Reynolds with the look of someone who knew they were about to get an earful and opted to just get it over with.

  “I can’t.”

  This seemed to amaze, baffle, and annoy Reynolds. He sat back, folded his arms, and scrutinized Nixon the way one would a bratty little dog that had just pissed in their shoe.

  “Excuse me?”

  Nixon sighed heavily. “I don’t really know unless I know which personality he’s inhabiting.”

  Reynolds threw up his hands. “Fantastic. So what you’re telling me is that there is a killer out there and we have nothing.”

  Nixon mulled this over slowly and then nodded. “Yes, basically.”

  “Doc,” Reynolds leaned forward, folded his hands on the table and bore heatedly into Nixon. “How long have you been studying Jimmy?”

  “Since he was seven,” Nixon answered immediately. “I found him at a children’s psych ward. He had been brought there by the police after they found him in bed with his parents.”

  Reynolds narrowed his eyes. “They were sexually assaulting him?”

  “Oh, no, no,” Nixon said hurriedly. “They were dead. He had slit their throats while they were sleeping. Blood everywhere. It had been such a mess. And he’d been curled in the middle between the two, drenched in their blood. They’d been dead for about a week before anyone went over to check on them.”

  “Oh!” Julie clamped a hand over her mouth, bile rising up her esophagus.

  “Great,” Reynolds muttered. “How old is he now?”

  Nixon’s eyes rolled up towards the ceiling as he did the math in his head. “I would say early thirties, but he looks remarkably young.”

  Reynolds jotted this down in his pad. “So you’re not sure what method, or personality he’s using, then how do you know he is responsible for this case?”

  “Because of the fishing wire,” Nixon replied. “It seems to be the singular link that connects all his personalities, his fascination with strangulation, suffocation, or a blade to the throat.” He tapped the three fingers of his right hand to his own throat. “He’s fascinated by the jugular.”

  “Wait!” Reynolds put his hand up, stopping the doctor. “You just finished telling me there was nothing linking his personalities.”

  “There isn’t.”

  Julie could have sworn Reynolds’s left eye twitched. “But you just said...” His hand balled into a fist. A muscle ticked in his cheek. “Okay, let’s start over.” He spoke with a calm that would have terrified Julie. “Is there anything linking Jimmy’s personalities that can help us find him?”

  “No.”

  Any minute now, Julie expected the sheriff to reach across the table and punch Nixon in the nose, just on principle alone. But that wasn’t what worried her. Her fear was that Reynolds wouldn’t believe Nixon and she would have to stay in that place even longer. She really needed Nixon to get his story straight and start giving the sheriff some solid leads to follow.

  Mason took Julie by the elbow and guided her to the stools. They sat with the island at their backs and faced the pair at the table.

  “And how did you learn about this one?” Reynolds pressed.

  “I was following another lead,” Nixon said. “There was an incident further west in British Columbia. A girl was found with her throat slit in a back alley.” Nixon rolled his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “The police think it was the boyfriend who seems to have disappeared from the apartment they shared. I tried to tell them what I’m telling you, but they refused to take me seriously.”

  Reynolds scoffed. “I can’t imagine why.”

  Nixon appeared unperturbed by the rib. “Anyway...” He waved his hand dismissively. “A detective friend of mine told me about the murder here. The girl, Bethany Row. He thought it could be Jimmy because of the way she was killed.”

  Reynolds’ jaw flexed. “Your ... friend, didn’t think to notify the department here of this possible suspicion?”

  Nixon shrugged. “It was a personal favor.” He pursed his lips almost wistfully. “I am hoping to find him and bring him home.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Even Julie knew it. Reynolds looked livid.

  “That, Doctor, is illegal, or were you not aware? Actually, so far, everything you’re telling me about how you’ve gone about handling this situation sounds illegal. This person is responsible for one murder that I am aware of and if it turns out that he’s also responsible for all the others you just confessed to, he will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, not be given a cushy life with you.” He eyeballed Nixon like Charles Manson himself had materialized across from him. Julie couldn’t blame him. “He is not a disobedient puppy digging in the neighbor’s yard, Dr. Nixon. He is a psychopath who has committed probably more crimes than even you know about. I would eat my badge before letting you take him anywhere, except to a maximum prison.”

  Nixon seemed to bristle at the statement. “This is my life’s work, Sheriff. No judge would ever throw a sick man in jail and he is sick. I will swear to this in court. He will be released back to me by the end of the week.”

  Reynolds rose very slowly. His nostrils flared as he closed his notepad and slipped it into the pocket of his shirt. All the while, he glowered down at Nixon like he wanted nothing more than to stomp on the man.

  “I guess that is something we will have to let the judge decide,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “In the meantime, I would like you to come with me back to the station. I have a few more questions for you there. I would also like you to talk to a sketch artist and give me the name of this detective friend of yours.”

  The doctor rose and the two men, Julie noted, were the same height. While Reynolds was larger in the chest and shoulders, Nixon was lean and built like a swimmer. But both men seemed taller in their anger.

  Reynolds motioned for Nixon to start heading for the door. The doctor turned wordlessly and began the march. But Julie hurriedly leapt off her stool and stopped Reynolds from following.

  “Does this mean we can leave?” Julie asked the sheriff. “I can’t stay here anymore. I need to go home.”

  “It would be safer for them if they left,” Dr. Nixon agreed from the doorway. “This whole area needs to be searched. If Jimmy’s here, which I am sure of, they are in danger.”

  Reynolds seemed to consider this. He eyed Nixon, then Julie, and finally settled on Mason who had yet to get up. His nostrils flared as he drew in air. His shoulders and chest rose before dropping just as rapidly.

  “I will investigate the doctor’s claim first,” he decided. “If hi
s story pans out, I will have your cars released.”

  It wasn’t what Julie wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  With an inclination of his head, Reynolds followed Nixon out of the kitchen and down the hall. Julie hurried after them and shut the doors. She locked them and turned to find Mason leaning against the kitchen doorway.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  She gave him a small smile. “Don’t have a choice, do I?” She went over to him. “Just have to hang on a little longer.”

  He pushed away from the frame and met her halfway. His fingers closed around hers in a comforting grip. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

  With no choice but to accept his words, Julie nodded. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “So have you tried to get a hold of Luis and Shaun?”

  Mason shook his head, a frown darkening his features. “I don’t know where they could be.” He tugged her into the kitchen and walked with her in tow to the phone. “I left my cell upstairs,” he told her as he picked up the receiver. “But I’m sure they’re fine.”

  No sooner had he dialed when there was a pounding on the front door. They exchanged bemused glances before hurrying into the hall to answer.

  Shaun glowered at them from the front porch. “What’s the big deal locking the door?” he snapped in the way of greeting.

  Mason moved aside to let the other man in. “It must have slipped your mind that we have a lunatic out to butcher us in our sleep.”

  Shaun bared his teeth, but said nothing as he pushed his way into the house.

  “Where’s Luis?” Maosn asked, shutting the door.

  “How would I know?” Shaun grumbled. “His door was closed when I left.”

  “Where did you go?” Julie made the mistake of asking.

  His brown eyes narrowed. “What’s it your business?”

  “Lay off,” Mason groaned, frustration lacing his tone. “Seriously, man, just answer the question.”

  Shaun looked from Julie to Mason with narrowed, wary eyes. “What happened?”

  They went into the living room. Shaun claimed the main sofa while Mason and Julie took the loveseat. Mason told him everything, which didn’t take nearly as long as it should have. Shaun simply stared back with his mouth gaping and a look of wide-eyed bewilderment.

  “So the guy’s a nut?” he said at last when Mason quit speaking.

  “Looks that way,” Mason said. “We went to check your rooms, but you guys weren’t there.”

  Julie was touched that he’d said we and not her. She had a feeling Shaun wouldn’t appreciate her going through his things.

  “I went for a walk,” Shaun said. “After listening to you two fuck like rabbits on crack for most of the night, I needed some alone time to clear my head.”

  It was Julie’s turn to look horrified.

  “Jesus!” Mason snapped.

  Shaun raised a brow with bored amusement. “Was it a secret? Because trust me, the entire town heard you.”

  Scalding heat coiled in the pit of Julie’s stomach and bubbled up her chest to spill into her cheeks. The back of her eyes stung and her fingers tightened into fists that wanted to slam into Shaun’s arrogant face.

  “What is your problem?” she burst out before she could stop herself. “What did I ever do to you?”

  Shaun narrowed his eyes in cold disgust. “What makes you think you did anything? I didn’t realize we all had to bow to your awesomeness.”

  “Knock it off, Shaun!”

  “No!” Julie put a hand on Mason’s forearm, stopping him from speaking as she stared daggers at the guy watching her back. “I want to know. Why do you hate me?”

  Shaun jerked one shoulder. “I don’t care enough about you to hate you. Again, the world doesn’t revolve around you and your feelings.” He said feelings with air quotes.

  “You’ve been on my case since we were kids and I want to know why.”

  The spark in Shaun eyes could only be construed as livid fury as he glowered at Julie. His face muscles twisted into a sneer of disgust that should have killed her on the spot. But when he opened his mouth, the front door opened and a quiet voice called through the house.

  It was Luis. He walked into the doorway, a plastic bag in hand. He was sweaty and flushed.

  “Where have you been?” Mason demanded.

  “I wanted some chips.”

  Shaun squinted up at him. “You walked to town?”

  Luis ignored the question, his anxious glance darting from face to face. “What happened?”

  “Oh, just your usual crap.” Shaun heaved himself up to his feet and stretched his muscly body. “Lunatic on the loose and Brewer wants a heart to heart.”

  Luis either missed or ignored the latter part as his eyes grew enormous. “What do you mean a lunatic on the loose?”

  “Was the chick swinging from the basketball hoop not clue enough for you, Sherlock?” Shaun goaded. “I will say this,” he continued, ignoring Julie’s scoff of revulsion, “Mason sure knows how to show a guy a good time.” He looked to Mason and gave him a thumbs up sign. “Remind me to sign up for the full package next year.”

  “Wait!” Luis put up the hand not holding the bag. “Go back to the lunatic.”

  Shaun flopped back down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. “Have a seat, my Young Padmé. We apparently missed quite an event.”

  Cautiously, Luis shuffled to the sofa and sat. He tucked his bag between his parted feet and waited.

  Mason retold the story. The more he spoke, the paler Luis seemed to get. It got to the point where even his lips were a white circle, open in a horrified O. His hand visibly trembled when he raised it and wiped the back across his mouth.

  “So, does ... does this mean we can leave?” he stammered. “I mean, the sheriff can’t expect us to stay after that, can he?”

  “He says he’ll return our cars once Dr. Nixon’s story checks out,” Julie assured him.

  “Geez...” Luis moaned, dropping his face into his hands. “I thought stuff like this only happened in movies.”

  “The good news is,” Mason cut in, “we only need to spend a few more nights here. First chance we get, we’ll pack our things, load the cars, and get the hell out of here.” He dusted his hands on his thighs and rose. “We’ll leave this asshole to the cops and the loony doctor.”

  Luis got to his feet, bent at the waist, took his bag by the handles, and straightened once more. “I’m going to start packing in case we get to leave tomorrow.”

  He left without another word to anyone. Shaun seemed unperturbed by the whole situation as he dumped his filthy boots on the coffee table and reached for the remote.

  Mason twisted his torso towards Julie. “I’m going to get my things together, too. You coming up?”

  She started to say yes and even began to rise, but she glanced at Shaun and shook her head. “I’m going to stay here for a little bit.”

  Mason followed the line of her sight and the corners of his mouth turned down. He looked on the verge of saying something, maybe to tell her not to bother, but he gave a reluctant nod instead and ambled to the door.

  “I’ll just be upstairs,” he said, but whether it was to her or Shaun, Julie didn’t know.

  She waited until his footsteps had faded on the stairs before fixing her attention on the only other person in the room. Shaun, if he noticed her scrutiny, never showed it as he flipped idly through the channel. But the fact that the TV was on mute, made her think maybe he knew why she was still there.

  “We need to talk,” she said at last when it was apparent that he was content just ignoring her.

  “Do we?” he grumbled. “My show’s about to come on.”

  Julie furrowed her brows. “Well, this is more important than any show.”

  He flicked a glance in her direction. The TV light shone in his muddy eyes. “Says you.”

  Refusing to be goaded, Julie straightened her spine and
screwed down her resolve before speaking. “Okay, look, I want to know why you think so badly of me. As far as I know, I have never done anything to you.”

  Shaun snorted. “As far as you know.”

  “Shaun, please.” She drew in a breath. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t see the point. Truthfully, I think this whole thing is a waste of time—”

  “So why are you talking to me then?” he snapped.

  “Because you’re Mason’s best friend,” she shot back. “He cares about you and I care about him. I don’t want this tension between you and me to weigh on him. So for him, I’m willing to settle this.”

  “There’s nothing to settle,” he muttered, flipping the channels even faster until it was a smear of flickering colors. “We’re leaving in the morning. You and I will never have to cross paths again.”

  “That’s not...” She wet her lips. “I’m in his life now and we’re going to try and make this work—”

  Shaun’s brown eyes shot to her, narrowed like he couldn’t quite believe he’d heard correctly. “What?”

  “Mason and I,” she repeated more slowly, “we’re going to keep seeing each other.”

  “Seriously?” He barked a ha that turned into a full out fit of laughter. “Is that what he told you? That he’s going to just pack up his life to be with you? Wow! You are so stupid. I can’t believe girls still fall for that bullshit line.” He sobered, but his mouth continued to stretch across his face in a twisted sneer of mock amusement. “But I guess it worked. He certainly got into your pants quick enough.”

  Julie shot to her feet. A sharp, cold sort of feeling had begun to seep through her and it was churning with the rage she was already feeling so she felt almost sick in the stomach.

  “You are...” She couldn’t even think of a bad enough word to describe him. “I thought we could be adults about this and be cordial towards each other for Mason’s sake, but I can see that you are just ... evil. I can’t believe how horrible you are.”

  He rolled his eyes and went back to the glaring at the screen. “Yeah, yeah. Are we done?”

  “So done!” she hissed before stomping from the room.