This Guy Kills Me

by Anlyn Hansell

  *****

  “What do you mean? He said his brother OD’d.”

  “His brother popped prescription drugs. He wasn’t a heroin addict,” he said as he turned down a street that looked extremely familiar.

  His old street. The house. No…they drove past the house. Her head turned as they drove past it.

  “They found ligature marks on his wrists – as if he were tied up…”

  He was turning right at the T at the end of the block. Crumbling warehouses filled her vision on either side of the road from the sporadic street lights that weren’t burned out yet.

  “Why would he do that?” she asked in a small voice, her body trembling although the car itself was warm.

  “Couple of reasons. Joe was a pretty messed up kid. His brother was popular, Joe wasn’t.” He was turning into a parking lot next to one of the abandoned buildings. “Kevin sort of ran with the same crowd that bullied Joe after he got into High School. Trust me, Joe didn’t forget that. Kevin didn’t show up for Marcus’s funeral, Joe was pissed. The next thing you know, Kevin’s found dead from a supposed OD.” That made sense. She actually felt his anger when she read him in the garage.

  “If you thought that, why isn’t he in jail?”

  “He had an alibi. His friend Gary vouched for him, said he was with him that night. They’re both full of shit. Come on.” He parked at the very edge of the lot next to a copse of trees. A large building loomed across the lot as he backed in before he grabbed the handle.

  Her phone started ringing.

  Their eyes caught and held in the car. She quickly pulled the phone out of her pocket.

  ‘Call from Doofus' lit up the screen.

  “Who’s Doofus?”

  “Joe.”

  “Ok, this is what you tell him…”

  *****

  “Ah…hi.”

  “Where are you?” he asked, even though he knew full well where she was. In fact, she was down the block from his old house. Why would she choose there of all places? Why that particular location? Unless of course, she wasn’t alone…

  Her voice was quivering. She was nervous, possibly scared.

  “Jane? Are you by yourself?” his voice filled the car.

  She looked at the nodding head in front of her.

  “Y…yes?” she answered.

  No, she wasn’t. She always answered in a question when she was lying. He knew her so well…

  “Where are you?”

  “At the warehouse at the end of the block – by your old house.”

  “Stay there. Ok? Jane?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Yeah,” she stated on a breathless whisper.

  *****

  He parked the car a block away and immediately ran down the street, around the building and stopped.

  A white Cadillac was parked near the back of the lot, far behind the old warehouse. It confirmed his suspicions exactly since he knew that car, he thought he knew the owner, but turns out, he never really knew him at all. All these years…

  Looking at the structure before him, he realized: he chose wisely. He snuck around the perimeter of the building. One way in, no other way out. Chains with locks were present on the two side doors and the two doors from the second floor were also locked. What did he tell her? What lies was he filling her head with? How did he convince Jane to lure him here?

  Only one way to find out. One gun was stuffed in the back of his waistband. Another, much smaller semiautomatic was firmly tucked up his right sleeve. He took a deep breath before he calmly walked up a set of steps, his hand reaching out cautiously to push one side of the heavy steel doors. The old hinges creaked and groaned in response as he took a step in the darkened building. Half of the roof was missing allowing the light from the mostly full moon to illuminate the room eerily. Most of it was cast in shadows but the center was entirely visible. Jane stood in the middle of the room. She was frozen, except for her fidgeting left hand. Her right hand was holding something…

  “Jane? Come here.”

  “I…ah…I can’t. We should talk.”

  “Where is he?” His eyes darted around the room focusing intently on the shadows beyond her.

  “Who?”

  “Scott.”

  “How did you…know?” she gasped, her hand tightening on the gun.

  “I’ll explain later,” he stated in a rather calm voice. “Come on out, Scott!” he suddenly yelled.

  Silence.

  “You big pussy! Get your ass out here now!” he yelled.

  Jane looked around, careful to keep Joe at least in her peripheral vision at all times.

  “I know, Scott. Jane’s psychic, you douchebag. She saw you choking Rick. It was you. You did this to my dad. He was getting close to figuring it out so you framed him.”

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s deranged,” Scott’s voice finally sounded inside the building.

  “I’m deranged? That’s rich. You have much bigger issues than I ever did.” He took a few steps toward Jane.

  “Jane? He’s going to kill you,” Scott’s voice rang out.

  “Who are you gonna believe, Jane? You don’t know him. You know me. You love me, maybe you haven’t realized it yet, but you do,” he added in a softer tone. “This guy? Scott’s been married four times. Four! And do you want to know why he’s been married four times?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Because he can’t keep it in his pants. He’s a serial cheater and he gets caught every time. Except his second wife. She just up and disappeared and here we all felt so bad for this asshole. I bet she caught on to you. I’ll bet she found out about your side business. I’ll bet she didn’t leave you, she’s probably dead -”

  “That’s enough, Joe. You need help -”

  “Yeah, I need help. You need help. Ex-wives are expensive. Three weeks after wife number 2 disappears and he’s banging some twenty-five year-old stripper. That’s wife number three. Here I thought you were such an unfortunate guy and in reality you were just a giant piece of shit.” Movement from the edge of the shadows caught his attention; more alarming was the gleam from the weapon that was pointing at the back of Jane’s head.

  “He’s holding a gun to the back of your head, Jane. He’s such an upstanding fucker.”

  Her eyes widened in the dark as her head turned.

  “Don’t! Don’t turn, Jane! He’s going to shoot you as soon as you do!” Scott’s voice came out shrill, nervous.

  Her head snapped back to watch as Joe took another step toward her, his hands quite visible in the air on either side of his head. He was unarmed.

  “What am I going to shoot you with? Look, Jane,” he stated as he wiggled his fingers.

  Her breath was coming out in sharp gasps, the smoky tendrils of her breath fogging her vision as well as the unwelcome tears gathering in her eyes.

  “I…don’t know…what to do,” she gasped out as her hand tightened further on the gun.

  He took another step forward and her hand sprang up, pointing the gun at him.

  “Where’d ya get that, Jane? Did Scott give you that? It’s probably Rick’s. Am I right, asshole?”

  “Joe. Please stop,” she pleaded on a sob.

  “That’s what he wants. He wants you to shoot me. That way you’ll have residue on your hand. Is that what you did to my dad? Did you make him hold the gun when you squeezed the trigger? Nah, you’re too much of a coward to do it yourself. Did Rick do it?”

  He took another step forward.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You see what I mean, Jane? He’s completely unstable.”

  A distinct click could be heard behind her, causing Joe’s right arm to drop down lightening quick before it raised just as quickly and a high pitched whizz sounded.

  “AAGH!” A grunt behind her. Something dropped with a thud causing her to jump to the side as Joe took two steps toward her. She squeezed the trigger, nothing happened. He was taking another step. />
  “Jane – put that down.”

  Pull the top piece back, then pull the trigger. Pull the top piece back…

  “Jane!” Another step and a loud bang caused her to flinch before her arm moved forcefully on its’ own. His body turned to the side as his hand grabbed his arm.

  “You shot me,” he stated in disbelief.

  “It’s a salt pellet. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? It’s just a salt pellet! I wasn’t even aiming for you. Oh my god, Joe -”

  “That’s not a salt pellet,” he stated angrily before adding a forceful, “Uh, uh” His arm rose again and another whizzing sound could be heard before a loud ping sounded and something scraped across the concrete floor. Scott was lying on the floor behind her, cradling his hand under his arm. He was gasping in pain.

  Joe watched the gun skitter toward the shadows after he shot the handle before turning his attention to Jane.

  “Could you put that gun down, Jane?”

  She was backing away from him.

  “I’m so sorry…” She whispered as she continued to inch away, the gun still firmly in her grip.

  “It’s just a surface scratch. I’m not mad, Babe. Could you just…stop?”

  Another body walked in the building, illuminated from the street lamps beyond causing a small gasp to escape her throat before she turned and felt blindly for an escape.

  He immediately turned toward the door and raised his arm again only to be stopped quickly by the newcomer’s words.

  “Don’t shoot, P.”

  His finger immediately relaxed on the trigger.

  “D?”

  “Yeah.” A rather large black man in a police uniform walked into the light.

  “You’re a…cop?” he asked in amazement.

  “Yeah, well, I told you I have a day job,” he spoke low as he walked in. They both turned and stared down at Scott. He was still gasping in pain.

  “You got any evidence against this guy?”

  “Depends. If he killed Rick Trayer in her apartment? I have him on camera.”

  “Wait! What?” Jane yelled out. He put a camera in her apartment? She paused for a second before stumbling up the stairs to the second floor.

  “I’ll take care of him. You better go get your girl,” D stated in an amused tone.

  *****

  “Jane? Let’s just talk, Ok?”

  Her heart was beating a rapid thump in her chest and keeping time with the pounding in her head.

  She was crouched behind a large metal desk as his steps echoed.

  “Sweetheart? Just…come out here. I promise I won’t hurt you.” More steps. She would stay quiet. Once she said anything, he would find her. She wasn’t stupid. A strange pinging sound could be heard every few seconds. What was that?

  “I have a surprise for you,” he stated softly.

  No thank you.

  His footsteps sounded closer. Something crunched beneath his feet every step he took. Every single nerve in her body was absolutely frazzled as her heartrate skyrocketed.

  “Jane? Ok, listen. Scott has that same pendant. He gave one to my Dad for his birthday years ago. It all kind of made sense after Betty told me that. He was always around, always keeping an eye on me under the guise of being worried about me. Dr. Mike is his shrink too, right? He used to pump him for information about me because he was sooo worried about my mental state. I don’t know what he told you about me, but I can pretty much guess it was a bunch of bullshit. How did he get to you? Huh? What did he tell you?”

  She clamped her hand over her mouth as the footsteps stopped right on the other side of the desk.

  “Whatever it was, I’m sure I can explain it. If you’d just come out. Please come out,” he urged gently.

  Footsteps sounded away from her for a moment before his shoes came into focus on her side of the desk.

  She quickly pushed from the floor and ran before slamming into something hard with her legs. It screeched and something crashed to the floor causing her to turn and sidestep it as she watched him. He was holding his hand out to stay her.

  “Jane, just relax.”

  “Did you kill your brother?” she breathed out.

  “What? No. I told you. He OD’d. Is that what Scott told you?”

  “He said…you lost it…after the funeral -”

  “Jane. I went back to Iraq four days after my Dad’s funeral. My brother died two months after that.”

  “Ok?”

  “Jane, I wasn’t even in the States when my brother died. You can check the autopsy report; you can check my discharge papers. I didn’t kill my brother. I did kill the guy that sold my brother the drugs, though. It was kind of an accident.”

  She took a few more steps around the object, never taking her eyes from him.

  “That’s how I got into this job. I just meant to rough the guy up, right? I ended up breaking his neck. This voice comes out of nowhere and asks me what I was still doing there. Apparently there was a hit out for the dealer and I killed him. That guy downstairs? He was there to clean up, and he turned me on to this job. I was fresh out of the Military, diagnosed with PTSD, no college, no job prospects; and I just happened to be an exceptional shot. It was a no-brainer. I made a shitload of money, invested some of it with my cousin so I had something legit to pay taxes on. Now, I’m out. Well, actually no. I have one more hit. But see, that’s the surprise Jane. I have big plans for you. For us. Could you just stop moving? Stay still,” his voice sounded more urgent.

  “What happened to Steve Patterson?”

  “Steve Patterson?”

  “My landlord. He disappeared. You told me you took care of him. You never answered my text.”

  “I didn’t do anything to him. In fact, I saw him in the hallway when I dropped off…umm…nothing.” His lips clamped shut.

  “You mean the poem?”

  “Yeah…about that -”

  “You really are unstable.”

  “I am not unstable! It was a joke, sort of. I mean…never mind. I did see your landlord, he asked me what the fuck I was doing in the most pleasant way possible…Hell, I wanted to beat the shit out of him -”

  “What about the camera?”

  “Huh?” Oh damn…

  “The one in my apartment?”

  Total honesty. Here goes…

  “Actually there are two in your apartment, two out in the hallway, your phone is actually a tracking device and I put chips in your shoes. But! Before you go nuts, I just want to point out that I did that with the sole intention of making sure nothing happened to you.”

  Silence. His words at least caused her to pause for a second while she looked down. He took another step.

  “That’s just wrong. I can’t even wrap my head around that. I am so stupid…and you’re so…crazy,” she added under her breath as she took another step back.

  “Jane. Stop.”

  She was shaking her head, another step back…

  “No really, Babe. Stand still.” He was walking rapidly toward her as the foot she was supposed to step on, stepped on nothing but air, making her body pitch backward.

  Her mouth opened in a silent scream as his hand reached out, grabbing a fistful of her coat before pulling her back toward him easily.

  “See? If I was going to kill you, I would have just let you go,” he whispered against her lips, his fist still gripping her coat.

  Her features were frozen in shock. His hand reached down and plucked the gun from her hand easily before stuffing it in his pocket without ever taking his eyes from hers.

  “You…You’re not going to kill me?” she whispered as her body stiffened against his.

  “Kill you? No…No, I’m going to marry you,” he emphasized with a completely straight face.

  “Ma -” her words were cut off by his mouth moving hungrily over hers.

  Chapter 17

  The Detective’s eyes shifted from the beautiful woman in front of him to the dark haired man seated next to her before a sn
ort escaped his nostrils.

  “Right.”

  “No. Really, she is psychic. Have at it, Babe.”

  “What?” She gave him an uneasy look before he nudged her shoulder with his and jerked his chin toward the older gentlemen seated at the other side of the table.

  “Just think about something you feel guilty about. She’ll read you. I swear -”

  “I’m sorry, but I have a really hard time believing -” he was saying as Joe interrupted him. “Seriously, dude. If you don’t believe this, then the rest of everything we just told you won’t make any sense. She’ll prove it to you, well, as long as you have something you feel anxious or guilty or nervous about.”

  “Look, what we need here is hard evidence, this…” He was saying. His mouth was grim. The wrinkles on his face were accentuated by his scowl. His eyes were narrowed. His eyes…

  Her vision immediately tunneled as a puff of smoke appeared before her eyes. What is that? Was he smoking?

  “You’re smoking…no wait…” She watched as a hand reached up, a small, white rolled up…was that a…joint?

  “You smoke pot,” she muttered.

  “WHAT?!” she could hear somewhere in the distance.

  “Yeah, you do. I can see you toking up.” Her lips pursed as she breathed in noisily then exhaled with her mouth wide open.

  “That’s…impossible. How do you…”

  “I told you.” She could hear Joe’s voice.

  “I…it’s for medicinal purposes…” She heard him whisper as the eye contact was broken. She blinked as she watched the man in front of her look around wildly.

  “Sure it is.” She nodded with a knowing grin. “Wait! There’s more…”

  *****

  “I’m sorry,” she stated for the umpteenth time that day.

  “Betty.” He stopped in the middle of the cemetery and turned her toward him. The cool wind blew tufts of her white hair all over the place; her cheeks were glistening with fresh tears.

  “If it wasn’t for me -”

  “If it wasn’t for you, Scott would still be a free man. We wouldn’t have known any of this. Betty, I know you feel bad, but don’t. Please?”

  Her answer was a small nod. She looked back toward the mound of fresh dirt, the tears increasing.