Sintown Chronicles I: Behind Closed Doors

by David O. Dyer, Sr.

  With assault rifle ready, Spider flattened his back against the wall next to the living room door while Bud slowly, silently, pulled it open. The two men quickly glanced through the small opening in the door, winked at each other and grinned.

  Swinging the door open and bounding into the room, Bud bellowed, “Holy shit. Now ain't that a pretty sight."

  Penny screamed and ducked behind Tim.

  Spider jabbed his rifle into Tim's ribs as he sat motionless on the sofa. “Sit up, bitch,” he barked.

  Bud squatted in front of the sofa, pointed his rifle at Penny's head and fondled her left breast. “Big titties, bitch,” he laughed. “No wonder Al enjoyed fucking you."

  Spider backed away a few feet and commanded, “Stand up, mother-fucker. Put your hands behind your head."

  Tim slowly obeyed, placing his hands behind his head as ordered.

  Spider grinned and lifted his knee hard into Tim's scrotum. Tim rolled on the floor, clutching his groin and Penny tried to go to his aid. Bud grabbed her by the hair and forced her to stand up. Spider kicked Tim in the side, and when he rolled to his back in agony, Spider stomped his testicles, rendering the richest man in Dot helpless. He tossed the short barreled weapon onto the sofa and drug Tim's unresisting body to a wooden chair.

  Bud, unable to control his laughter, tossed his companion a roll of duct tape and, while Tim was being bound, he poked his rifle into Penny's protruding stomach.

  “Put your hands on top of you head, bitch,” he commanded.

  The terrified woman complied.

  He traced a circle around her belly with the tip of the gun and moved it to her breasts. “I ain't never fucked a pregnant bitch before,” he grinned as he slid the rifle tip down her body and forced it between her legs. “Get your clothes off, bitch."

  “Leave her alone,” Tim managed to protest. “I have money, if that's what you want."

  Spider grabbed him by the hair and smashed his fist into Tim's jaw.

  Trembling, Penny pulled her shirt from her pants. She heard Tim moan and quickly glanced in his direction. Blood was spurting from his face and she saw the brass knuckles on Spider's right fist. She felt the rifle barrel crunch into her stomach. She doubled over in pain and he kicked her feet, causing her to tumble to the floor.

  “Get them clothes off, Penny,” he demanded.

  He knows my name, she thought as she struggled to remove her shirt. He knows Al. These have to be the guys who murdered Al.

  When she was nude, Spider wrenched her right arm behind her, wound tape around her wrist and fastened it just above her left elbow. He reversed the procedure, taping her left wrist to her right arm.

  Holding the gun in his left hand, Bud lifted Penny to her feet by her hair. “I want your back on that coffee table, sweetie, with your legs high in the air and spread nice and wide."

  As Penny assumed the required position, she heard Spider slapping Tim's face. “Wake up, you mother fucking bastard."

  Spider circled Penny's breasts with the rifle barrel, guided it over her navel and to the apex of her legs.

  “Wake up, damn you,” Spider barked as he lightly slapped Tim's face again.

  Tim's eyes fluttered, then opened.

  “Where's the money and the tapes?"

  “Don't know,” Tim mumbled through swollen lips.

  Spider pulled down Tim's pants, grabbed his testicles and squeezed. “Where's the damn money?"

  Tim howled in pain. “There's a couple hundred in my pants,” he answered.

  “Don't hurt him,” Penny cried as the rifle barrel parted her labia.

  Spider squeezed harder. “I'll take your couple hundred, but I'm looking for a million, and the damned tapes too."

  “For God's sake, man,” Tim cried, blood pouring from his face, “I don't know what you're talking about."

  Spider stood up and made sure Tim saw the brass knuckles. He buried his fist into the pit of Tim's stomach. Blood spurted from Tim's mouth. “Don't know about tapes or money,” Tim weakly gasped.

  The brass knuckled fist crashed against Tim's right rib cage and Tim screamed in agony. His sphincter muscle relaxed and he involuntarily emptied his bowels, filling the room with the putrid odor of an outhouse. “Look, you bastard,” Spider snarled. “Before we blew a hole in his stupid head and dumped his body in Lake Norman, Al gave us his complete life history starting from the time his daddy fucked his mama. We know the tapes and money are here."

  “Leave him alone,” Penny screeched as Bud unfastened his belt. “He knows nothing about it."

  Bud jammed the rifle into Penny's vagina. “Then you tell us, bitch."

  The pain was excruciating. She begged for mercy as Spider laughed at his partner's expression of pleasure. Bud jerked the rifle barrel and forced it deeper inside her.

  “I'll ... I'll tell you. Please take that thing out of me."

  Spider watched Penny twisting in agony as Bud continued the torment and picked up and searched Tim's pants. He stuck the roll of bills into his own pocket and dangled a set of keys in front of Tim.

  “These the keys to your Mustang?"

  Tim nodded.

  “Original equipment?"

  Tim shook his head. “Not much original left but the body,” he lied.

  “Shit.” Spider pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it. He knelt in front of Tim and, as the flame singed the pubic hair on Tim's swollen testicles, he leered, “Are you sure, old man?"

  “Check it yourself,” Tim cried, trying to wiggle the chair away from the threatening flame.

  Spider stood up. “Ram it up her cunt and get it over with, Spider. We gotta get outta here."

  Bud knelt and rammed the barrel of his assault rifle deeper into her vaginal canal. “Tell us where the fucking money and tapes are or I'll blow your head off the long way, right through your baby."

  “There's a couple of thousand dollars in a gray metal box in the bottom right hand drawer of my desk.” She nodded towards the study door. “It's the receipts of yesterday's produce sales."

  Spider gripped Tim's swollen testicles, now a purplish blue color, and Tim shrieked in pain.

  “So help me, God,” Penny pleaded. “That's all there is. I did keep the tapes and about a half million dollars, but the sheriff found out and confiscated it."

  Spider pulled a knife from his pocket and knelt beside the tortured woman. He popped open the blade, grabbed her left nipple and stretched her breast. He lay the blade at the base of her breast and growled, “Enough of your lies. Another lie and I amputate this tit. Tell another and the other tit goes."

  “Do what you must. I'm telling you the truth,” Penny pleaded, tears bursting from her eyes.

  Spider grinned. “I warned you,” he said as he pressed the edge of the blade against her flesh.

  “Guys,” Tim shouted. “I'm the one who has money. I'm Tim Dollar. Everybody knows I'm rich."

  “Hold it, Spider,” Bud said as he painfully ripped the bloody gun from Penny's vagina. “I've heard of this guy. He's supposed to own the whole damn town."

  Spider stood up and Penny rolled away from him. “You have money in the Mustang?"

  “No,” Tim said. “It's in investments and in the bank, but I can get it for you in a couple of days. I'll give you the half million you want if you'll just let us go."

  Spider slipped on the brass knuckles and crashed his fist into Tim's rib cage again, causing more blood to erupt from Tim's mouth. “You think I'm stupid or something? You think I'm going to trust you? I ain't educated, but I ain't dumb either."

  “Let Penny go. Take me as a hostage,” Tim moaned. “My wife will give you anything you ask."

  “What do you think, Bud?"

  “Shit, man. We've been here too long already. The bitch is telling the truth. Let's get the money out of her desk, waste these two and get out of here."

  The doorbell rang, quickly followed by a woman's shrill voice. “Penny? Tim? Its me, Leora."

  “Who the fuck is Le
ora?” Bud asked.

  “She's a friend—an elderly woman,” Penny sobbed.

  “Get some clothes on fast and get rid of her,” Spider demanded as he cut and ripped off the tape from her wrists and arms. “Bud, you get the money out of the desk. The bitch said it was in that room over there. And you, rich guy. You make a sound and you'll all die."

  Bud headed for the study and Spider moved behind Tim, the assault rifle pressed against the back of Tim's head. Hurry up, bitch,” Spider snapped.

  Penny pulled up her slacks and, as she painfully moved towards the door, she pulled her shirt over her head. The doorbell rang again.

  “Penny,” Leora called out stepping away from the door. “Penny, dear, are you in there?"

  Penny opened the door slowly at first and then flung it against the wall as she dived onto the porch.

  Spider lifted the rifle towards the door. A shot rang out, followed by the rat-a-tat-tat of an automatic rifle discharging bullets harmlessly into the ceiling as Spider fell to the floor with a bloody hole in the back of his head.

  Randy seemed frozen, holding Sean's pistol with both hands, still pointed towards the place where Spider had stood. Bud burst through the study door spraying bullets aimlessly into the living room. Billy hit him with a flying tackle and one punch to the jaw rendered Bud unconscious. As he lay on top of the pickle-faced thug, Billy looked up and grinned. “Penny teach Billy to play football too."

  Jo moved into the room from her vantagepoint in the kitchen doorway. “It's all over, Leora,” she called out.

  Leora and Penny cautiously came through the front door. Penny screamed and ran to Tim, pants pulled to his knees, taped to the chair and covered with blood. His shoulders were slumped. His chin rested on his chest. “He's been hit,” she cried. “Somebody do something.” Her eyes seemed to bulge. She gripped her stomach and toppled to the floor, the crotch of her pants darkening from the flow of blood and water from her vagina.

  Suddenly the room filled with the shrill wail of sirens ripping through the rural setting and uniformed deputies and detectives in plain clothes.

  “I told you to let me handle this,” Detective Borders gruffly said to Leora as he surveyed the scene.

  Before Leora could respond, Penny screamed at him from her fetal position on the floor. “You damned fool. If it weren't for Mrs. Nickels we would all be dead."

  Having assured himself that the deputies and paramedics were in control of the situation, Borders pulled Leora into the privacy of the kitchen.

  “Leora,” he said his eyes searching hers, “are you sure you're all right.” He wanted desperately to hold her.

  Her eyes twinkled. “I'd be lying if I didn't admit I'm all shook up, as Elvis used to sing, but yes, I'm all right."

  “You could have been killed."

  “I'm an old lady, Detective. My life doesn't matter that much any more."

  “It matters to me, Leora."

  “Oh, does it now? You never answered my question, you know."

  “How can I? It's like asking if a man has quit beating his wife. If I say I have a sexual interest in you, and you're not interested in sex, I'm doomed. If I say I am interested only in companionship and you're interested in sex, I'm doomed. All I asked for was a dinner date. Can't we do that and see what happens?"

  She smiled. “I don't even know your first name."

  “Oh, brother,” he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Its Julius, but for goodness sakes, don't tell anyone."

  “Well, then. What should I call you?"

  “Friends just use my last name. I prefer that."

  She began to rub her right eye, and turned her back to him as she said, “Okay, Borders. Excuse me a second."

  “Something in your eye?"

  She nodded. When she again faced him, she was holding open her blouse, which she had unbuttoned. Her breasts bulged above the tops of her brassiere cups.

  “What do you think,” she asked.

  He could not speak.

  “Good answer,” she said with a wicked grin on her face. She wrapped her arms around him. “Sure, I'll have dinner with you."

  * * * *

  At midnight, Billy lay asleep on the floor in front of the flickering flames in the fireplace of the Nickels new home. Randy and Jo slumped on the sofa, staring into the fire.

  “I'm beat,” Randy said softly.

  “Me too,” Jo agreed. “You and Billy did a great job of rearranging the furniture."

  “The movers did a good job of guessing where everything goes. They didn't leave that much for us to do."

  “It could have been worse, that's true. What are we going to do with Billy?"

  “Let him sleep,” Randy said. “He's had a tough day, too."

  Jo chuckled. “I think your mother is the only one of us who isn't worn out, and her's was the roughest day of all."

  “I killed a man today, Jo."

  “You had to."

  “In the movies even the bad guy doesn't usually shoot someone in the back."

  “There was no other choice. If you waited another second Penny and Leora would both be dead."

  “Yeah."

  She put her hand on his thigh. “I love you Randy Baby."

  He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Mama Jo."

  Leora came into the den carrying a tray with four mugs of steaming coffee, which she placed on the oval oak table in front of them. She nodded at Billy and whispered, “I didn't know he was asleep."

  Jo smiled. “He lay down about five minutes ago and dropped off instantly. I think working all night in the greenhouses and all day as a mover finally caught up to him."

  “Where's Lucky?” Leora asked as she sat beside Randy.

  He nodded towards Billy and Leora smiled when she saw the dog, also asleep, folded into Billy's arms.

  “Mom,” Randy said. “I killed a man today."

  “Today you saved at least two lives—maybe six lives."

  He nodded and Jo continued to caress his thigh.

  “I just got off the phone with the hospital,” Leora said as she lit a cigarette and tossed the pack on the table. “Tim is out of surgery and in intensive care. He's awfully messed up—his jaw is broken and he has two cracked ribs. One bullet caught him in his left shoulder and the other just missed his heart."

  Randy reached for the pack of cigarettes. “What's the prognosis?"

  “Guarded, but they think he will make a full recovery."

  Jo reached for the burning cigarette Randy offered, took a long drag and let the smoke trickle out of her nostrils. “How's Penny?"

  “She lost the baby,” Leora answered sadly. “Sean is with her. They're young. They can have lots of children if they want to."

  “Maybe,” Jo said, rubbing her tummy.

  “Mom,” Randy said patting her on her knee. “I want you to promise me you won't get into anything like this ever again."

  Leora's eyes twinkled. “Of course, Sugar,” she said.

  He knew she was lying. “When things calm down a bit, Mom, I want you to tell me the whole story. It will make one hell of a novel."

  “It sure will, Honey,” she replied, “and I'm going to write it."

  “What?"

  “Calm down, Randy Baby,” Jo joked. “Where's it written that there can't be three novelists in the same family?"

  Randy sighed and rested his head on the back of the sofa. “Okay, Mom,” he said jovially, “but future novels must be based solely on your imagination."

  “Of course, Sugar.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Billy shivered against the early morning air as he made his way from the Nickels’ new house to Julie's. On tiptoe he mounted the porch steps and felt in his pocket for the house key. Although it was new, the screen door squeaked when he pulled it towards him. “Don't wake up Julie,” he admonished himself. He slipped the key into the lock, turned it and heard the tumblers fall into place. “Hush,�
�� he whispered to the lock. He turned the knob and gently pushed against the door. It opened about two inches and stopped.

  Julie has the chain latched, he thought. As the sun began to peek over the eastern stand of pines, he considered his options. He could try the back door, but she probably latched that chain also. He could return to the Nickels’ house, but no, he locked their door when he left and did not have a key. He could simply wait in the cold until Julie woke up.

  As if things were not bad enough, he suddenly realized his dire need of a bathroom. He could urinate in the yard, as he did most of his life, but Penny said that wasn't nice. If worst came to worst he decided he would have to be a bad boy, just this once, and if the back door was latched, he would just have to wait on the porch.

  As he turned away from the door, the porch light came on.

  “Billy, is that you?” Julie called through the closed door.

  “Yes. It's Billy. I'm sorry I woke you."

  Lights came on in the living room and Billy heard Julie fiddling with the chain. Finally, the door opened.

  “You didn't wake me, Billy,” Julie greeted angrily. “I haven't been to sleep. Where the hell have you been?"

  “You know. I helped the Nickels move,” he said, kicking the door shut with the heel of his brogan.

  “That was yesterday."

  “Julie, I have to go to the bathroom."

  “Pee in your pants, for all I care,” she said as she propelled her wheelchair away from him.

  “I'll be right back,” he promised. The closest bathroom was on the first floor down the hallway and he sighed with relief as his urine began to flow. For the first time, he noticed the loud noise his stream made as it hit the water in the bowl and for reasons that eluded him, he did not want Julie to hear. He tried to cover the noise by turning on a faucet in the sink, but he couldn't reach it. He tried to stem the urine flow, but that didn't work either. With embarrassment he didn't understand he finished, flushed and washed his hands.