by Steven Swaks
“I can do it right now if you want.”
“I’ll wait on it.”
“Are you sure? Can break anytime, then the whole engine is gonna die.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Well, young lady, if something happens, it’ll be too late. Can’t say I didn’t warn you. Can even catch fire.”
“Thanks for the tip.”
The mechanic observed Jessica for longer than it should have been appropriate for an older man to look at a young lady. “I know ya. But I can’t say from where.” He pointed his greasy index finger toward the young sister. “Yeah… I know now. You’re that gal from Dina’s. Ya bought some pies down there.” His gaze ran from her blond hair, through her long dress, down to her naked ankles.
Tracy read his lingering thoughts. “How much for the oil change?”
“$54.95,” his eyes swung back toward the older sister.
“A bit pricey for an oil change, isn’t it?” Tracy opened her wallet and took a blue credit card out.
“I use good oil.”
“I can tell.”
The man finished the transaction and glanced at Jessica.
She felt his stare litter on her back. She was eighteen, and she didn’t know how to deal with a man like him. She only knew that she never wanted to be alone with him.
White Office
Gina knocked on the white door at the end of the psychiatric ward corridor. A small name plate read Dr. Hansen. A stern female voice instructed her to walk in. She pushed the door open.
A woman was sitting behind a small desk in a narrow office without extra furniture or shelving. Aside from a single suicide- prevention poster and a small grilled window, the walls were white and bare.
Gina sat on one of two metal chairs. She rubbed her hands together. She was not nervous, or perhaps she was, but she had little doubt about the outcome of this final interview. If everything went well, she would be free in a few minutes, an hour at most. Yesterday, she had talked to the doctor already. She had shared her feelings, or whatever the doc wanted to hear. The doc had bought it. Even if slashing her veins was new to her, Gina knew how to handle shrinks. They all cared about the same thing. They wanted to know that you felt better and that you regretted what you did. Of course, there was no way she would ever attempt to commit suicide again.
Doc Hansen opened Gina’s beige folder. She reviewed a few notes and nodded once in a while. She looked up. Her eyes were perched above her glasses hardly hanging at the end of her nose. She didn’t wear any makeup. What for? Her patients were all in the same confused boat. Some of them were better off than others. They were caught in a low point of their lives. A spouse had left them, or they had lost their job atop an already difficult financial situation. Others were truly bipolar. They were the irremediable psych cases lost in their lunacy. For them, the psych ward was the high. The staff patched them up until the next visit. That Gina was a weak soul. She would have had a normal life if she had been in a more conventional situation with a strong family and a steady job. There was only so much the system could do for her, especially on a three-day hold.
She concluded her review. “Hum…” she removed her glasses. “What do you think about what happened, Gina?”
“I was very stressed, you know… with my mother.”
“How do you feel about what you did to yourself?”
“That was a mistake. I know that. It was the first time.”
“And last?” the doctor asked with an attempt of a caring smile.
“And last.” She rubbed her hands together. “I don’t want to hurt myself again. It doesn’t make sense… it’s wrong.”
“Good,” she looked down at her notes. “You have been very cooperative with us. I like that very much.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Are you willing to come to your follow-up appointments?”
“Yes, doctor.”
“Good.”
“I have to ask again… do you want to hurt yourself?”
“No, of course not.”
The doctor scribbled a few notes. “Do you think you might hurt someone else?”
Gina shook her head. “No, oh no. I have never even laid my hands on anybody.”
Good Gina, good girl…
Gina’s gaze snapped to her right. There was nothing but a white wall.
“Is everything all right, Gina?”
“Yes. Yes, doctor. I’m fine.”
“How do you feel about your mother?”
“She’s sick. I feel bad for her.”
Good, you’re better than I am, Gina…
Her head didn’t move this time.
“Are you angry at her?”
“Why would I be? She’s a good mother, and she loves me.”
She’s a good mother… good one!
“Do you have anybody to talk to? A friend? An uncle perhaps?”
“We don’t have family. It’s only my mother and me.”
“What about your father?”
“He left a long time ago.”
“Do you ever talk to him?”
“I haven’t talked to him in years.”
“I’m sorry,” she said without meaning it. “No friends?”
“I’m not very social.”
“Maybe you could join a local church.”
You’d rather rot in Hell! Just a bunch of hypocrites!
Gina’s gaze stayed on the physician. The voice was resonating in her skull, as if she was in a deep cave.
“I would like to see you in my downtown office.” She opened an agenda, “let’s see, what about this Friday? Would ten o’clock work for you?”
“That would be fine.”
“In the meantime, do not hesitate to call me or 911 if you have a hard time, or any thoughts of hurting yourself or anybody.”
Will do, honey!
Gina didn’t wince at her inner voice. “I’ll remember that.”
“You can leave, Gina.”
“Thank you for your help, Doctor Hansen.”
The older woman smiled and shook her hand.
Gina walked out of the office. She quickly finished the checkout procedure. She signed some paperwork and walked to a locked double door with a nurse the size of a football player.
The man opened the door.
“You’re free to go.”
“Thanks,” Gina hardly mumbled.
She walked out of the ward into a small lobby. She was alone, again, but freedom felt good. She walked through a double glass door onto a large parking lot. Short trees bristled in a light breeze. She felt renewed. She was still young. She could be beautiful if she wanted. A little bit of makeup could do wonders. Perhaps she would even meet a boy. That would be nice to have somebody who would care about her, for once.
I care about you, Gina. I am here for you. Trust me.
She couldn’t hear anything. She wasn’t crazy. Therefore, she couldn’t hear voices.
You don’t hear voices. You only hear me, Gina.
“Who are you?” she asked quietly.
I am your father. I am the Alpha, the Omega. I will set you free of your bonds, my angel.
“Are you God?”
I am your God. Remember, you can trust me, my child. Go in peace my angel, as I am with you, always.
Gina walked away with a light stride. The winter sun was shining on her face. Her life was about to change. She knew it.
725 Meadow Drive
Officer Jameson walked out of Gina’s house, hands on his hips, unable to take a deep breath. The once calm neighborhood had become a dark world swirling around him.
Medic 61 pulled in front of the driveway. It was another call to rescue the young Gina. She would be mad at her mother, and they would take her to the hospital. Routine. Or was it? After last time’s episode in the bathtub, Alex and Ben weren’t so sure anymore. They weren’t stressed about it, after all, her suicide attempt looked like a call for help rather than an actual move to end her life, but i
t was still a step further into her deepening crisis.
Jameson staggered to a bare dirt planter. He leaned forward, planting his hands on his knees, and heaved.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ben asked shifting the gear to park.
“Medic 61, on scene.” Alex released the mic’s switch. “How would I know? Maybe he ate some bad eggs for breakfast,” they both chuckled without conviction. Something was off. They stepped out of the ambulance keeping an eye on the officer.
Jameson was pale, as white as somebody who hadn’t seen the sun in months. The medics knew him. They couldn’t say that they were best friends hitting beer mugs on Oktoberfest, but they met him on a regular basis during calls.
“Are you ok, buddy?” Alex asked the officer while unloading the gurney.
“He’s going to need to share the gurney with Gina…” Ben muttered.
Still hunched over, the man looked at them with beads of sweat dribbling down his pale face. “You won’t need this,” he hardly pointed to the back of the ambulance.
Alex stopped walking. The grin on his face vanished. Something was definitely going on. “What’s going on?”
“The mother’s dead.”
Alex frowned. “What? What are you talking about? What’s going on in there? You can’t even say that. We need to check her.”
The two medics walked up the driveway to go into the house.
The officer heaved again.
He took a deep breath and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Guys, I told you, she’s dead… her… her head is missing.”
They both stopped and looked at each other.
“Her what?” Ben said.
Multiple sirens were wailing nearby, breaking the silence on the driveway.
“Her head… her freaking head is gone.”
Alex took another step toward the house, still in total surprise.
“You can’t go in there. That’s a crime scene.”
“What about Gina? Where is she?” Ben asked.
They were both as white as Jameson. Gina was part of Stone Falls. She was an emblem, a figure to make fun of during the coffee break. This scene was surreal. It was a step into the Twilight Zone away from anything they knew.
“Get back, get away from the house,” the officer said standing. He pulled out his weapon.
“What are you doing?” Ben asked him.
“You don’t know what’s in there. The girl could have a gun.”
Two Crown Victoria police cruisers stopped in front of the house, the red and blue LED light bar flashing. Engine 61 stopped fifty yards away.
“What are you talking about? It’s Gina. She’s nuts, but she’s not a murderer,” Alex said walking down the driveway.
“You two get out of here. Take your rig and go stage by the Engine,” a police sergeant ordered them as soon as he walked out of his patrol car.
“But…” Ben said startled.
“There’s no but. You two get out of here. Now! This isn’t your scene anymore,” Sergeant Berkley, a fifteen-year veteran on the force said, shotgun in hand.
The ambulance pulled away from the curb. Another two cruisers stopped in front of the neighbor’s house.
Ben maneuvered the unit behind Engine 61. A red battalion chief suburban stopped behind them underneath an oak tree.
Captain Johnson–acting Battalion Chief against his will–exited his SUV and trotted toward Engine 61’s crew and the two medics.
“Brief me, Ben.”
“One of the cops found the mother in the bedroom… she’s dead.”
Captain Johnson knew her, like the entire Stone Falls Fire Department. Her daughter was the iconic frequent flyer, not so much the mother, but they knew her. They cared for her, without knowing much about her life.
“She was beheaded.”
“Oh, my goodness…,” he shook his head. “That’s insane… who did it?” He looked at the ambulance crew who stayed silent. “Gina? There’s no way Gina would do that. The girl has issues, but she’s not like that. She’s not a murderer.”
“That’s what I said,” Alex quietly commented.
~
Four officers entered the home. They knew that Gina could be anywhere in the house, hidden behind a door, waiting for them with a kitchen knife or a good old gun. The girl was unpredictable. That was all they knew.
They cleared the living room, flashlight in one hand, 9 mm Beretta in the other, the sergeant leading with a shotgun. The small team entered the narrow corridor. Two of the officers stood on each side of a first door. One quick look at each other and they opened the unlocked door. They entered the bedroom, slowly checking the room, one segment at a time. Nothing. They repeated the clearing procedure with the kitchen, the bathroom, and a second bedroom. Each time, their heart pounded like a steam locomotive in the old West. It didn’t matter if they were rookies or veterans on the force; the adrenaline rush was still the same.
The officers approached the master bedroom. They already knew about the dead body in there, but they had to sweep the room. It was a job. That was all. Block out everything, focus on the mission, and pay attention to the other officers.
The door was already opened. Aside from one rookie, the other three officers had seen corpses before. Officer Jameson had briefed them. Headless body in the room, very graphic, be warned. Nothing they hadn’t seen on the highway, at least, that was what they were expecting.
None of them were ready for what they saw. The mother’s body laid partially covered under blood-soaked sheets like a beheaded chicken on a farmer’s cutting board. Her left arm was hanging off the bed, almost parallel to the floor, palm turned to the ceiling. The foul smell of death floating in the stale air was unbearable. An officer brought a gloved hand to his mouth, hardly able to keep his composure.
The murderous rage hadn’t stopped at the mother’s body. Knife slashes littered the room, as if the murderer had blindly stabbed and cut without purpose. Perhaps it was the opposite, in an unrestrained rage, the killer had wanted to attack anything related to the corpse on the bed. Even the mattress had been clawed with fury. A large note was carved acrossthe wall:I HATE HER.
“Guys, let’s stay focused. The killer could still be in the house,” the senior officer murmured.
They stepped back in silence. They turned to the last unchecked room, the garage. An officer opened the spring-loaded door and entered with his partner. A strong rotten smell soaked the room. They stopped an instant to get accustomed to the odor. They opened their mouths, but it didn’t help. The stench plunged deep into their throats and lungs like a coating of warm tar.
Their flashlight beams complemented the little light shining beneath the double garage door. A few cardboard boxes were stacked up against a wall. A long shelf filled with forgotten items covered another wall.
In the middle of the garage, Gina’s body hung with an extension cord wrapped around her neck.
The officer wiped his dry mouth with his sleeve. “Sarg’… the girl’s here…”
The senior officer entered the dark garage. “Lord…” He brought the hand-held radio to his mouth without looking away from the dangling body. “The daughter is in the garage. She’s DOA (Dead on Arrival), the house is code four.” He turned to his men and said with a low voice, “That’s all boys. We cleared the house. Now it’s up to the forensic guys.”
A sense of relief surged upon the officers waiting outside.
“Uh, Sarg’…”
“What now, Boyle?”
“Uh… where’s the… uh…”
“The what?”
“Where’s the mother’s head, Sir?”
The four cops looked at each other. Berkley pursed his lips. “Let’s look through the house. Do not move anything, and use your gloves.”
“Uh, Sarg… isn’t it up to the forensic guys to do that?” One of the officers asked.
“It’s my scene, and I’m not going to wait two hours for those clowns to show up. This ain’t New York City
. We don’t have CSIs at the snap of a finger.”
~
Detective Delano walked up the driveway. A murder in Stone Falls, that was new. It hadn’t happened in years. It broke the routine. All right, he knew, he was supposed to be compassionate, and he wasn’t supposed to assume anything. Sergeant Berkley had called him with a quick briefing when he was on the way to the scene, dead mother, dead daughter, possible murder-suicide. Delano had heard about Gina before. They’d said that the girl was crazy but not violent, yeah, right.
Delano liked his job. He liked the puzzle work, the details which led to the suspects. The arrests? Not so much. Let’s say that he had been a cop for too long, and he had fallen into the donut shop cliché. An extra forty or fifty pounds in the belly told him that he wasn’t fit enough to run after the losers who had decided to stray on the wrong side of the law. That was the job for the blue uniforms. He did the head work and pointed at the suspect. They did the running and the shoving on the ground.
He liked Stone Falls. After roaming the streets of L.A. for twenty years, he liked the slower pace of a small town. There were no gangs, no senseless shootouts or revenge killings, no drive-bys, no rapists, no arsons, or any of that nonsense. Once in a while, a hobo broke into a vacation home to stay warm during the winter, but the larcenies didn’t go much further than that.
He penetrated the house through the front door. There was no need to find any alternate entrance. The patrol guys had done their suspect-clearing job. Berkley met him in the hallway.
“Talk to me, boss,” Delano told Berkley.
“The mother’s headless body is in the bedroom.”
“A decap? You didn’t mention that on the phone. That’s got to be a first in this town. Where’s the head?”
“We don’t know yet. The boys are still searching the house.”
“Where’s the daughter?”
“She’s in the garage… looks like she hung herself. Daughter kills the mother and takes care of herself right after. Your job is going to be easy.”
“That’s possible, but let’s not jump to conclusions.”
Officer Boyle strode to them.
