Arnold popped his head in through the kitchen. "Hey, Jaspierre. I'm so glad to have you back. I've been cleaning the kitchen." He wore two pairs of rubber gloves, and his long, thin, grey hair had been put up in a scarf. He wore an apron and rubber boots. "What would you like for dinner?" It seemed, for the moment, his counting tic had taken a little break.
"A sandwich is fine. Dammit. We have a whole fucking group of people to feed. Have you fed any of them?" she said.
"I hadn't thought of feeding them. I'll get right on it," he said, but his eyes flickered back and forth. He clearly would prefer to keep cleaning.
"Look, we both want this place cleaned up. How about you work on that, and I'll make the food?" she said. Then she got to work making a pile of sandwiches. After making about twenty of them, she decided she absolutely did not want a sandwich for lunch. She threw in a frozen pizza and waited for that to cook.
Before she could work on Dru, she'd have to decide what she was doing with all these people. What exactly was her plan? She wasn't even sure. Her fingertip scraped on the broken marble serval as she clicked its ear. Fucking asshole had to destroy the carving. She carried the large tray of food down the stairs in the fireplace.
Feeding two of the prisoners was quite easy; she pressed the button and two dumbwaiters opened. She stuffed two sandwiches in each and a bottle of water, then pressed another button. In the room with the Asian man and the room with the red-haired girl, the two dumbwaiters opened. The red-haired girl, still coated in bandages, walked over, and using her bandaged hand, tried to lift the bottle and the sandwich out of the dumbwaiter. She had a lot of difficulty but managed to get them both out of the little box. Asian man could not reach, being chained to the rings on the wall. Jaspierre pressed a button, and a little red dot blinked on the wall in the room with the red-haired girl. "Okay, that red dot is a marker for how you can use the bathroom. If you hold your hand – well, your skin onto it for ten seconds or so, the bathroom door will open. Pay attention to where it is because I won't show it to you again." She pressed another button and the dot in Dru's room also blinked. She considered not telling him about his bathroom, but she was really sick of the nasty smell down here. "Dru, you pay attention to that red dot also."
She didn't bother telling the Asian man because he wasn't able to move much anyway, still chained tightly to the metal rings in the wall. She would deal with him soon enough. She looked at the large swarm of people in the maze. They were still avoiding each other. She stared at the one with the long snaky tits. "Okay, you with the long boob things, why are you guys avoiding each other? What are you doing in there?"
The girl looked up, very surprised. "We are supposed be playing a game? Survivor gets released?" She had a long annoying whine to her voice, and somehow, every sentence was a question.
"Okay, circus freaks. Listen up. Game over. I'm going to put a bunch of these sandwiches in the middle of the maze. Please watch your toes." She pressed a few buttons and slid the tray into another large white box. The wall slid shut, smooth as ever. The sandwiches made their way to the center of the room in the maze. The maze was about as big as two football fields, much bigger than the house up above. The maze slid under the driveway, providing support for the perfectly smooth paved path.
Or rather, the cracked, salted, and destroyed pavement. She wrinkled her nose when she remembered the state of her driveway. With a whirl of a few dials, the maze rearranged itself. Soon it was one open room with a few cubicle-sized areas blocked off by walls. "All right, so that'll have to do for bedrooms or whatever. Be nice to each other while I figure out what to do with you. Oh! Actually, please step under the tent." She made a larger shelter out of walls and platforms, pressed the button, and the entire room suddenly was sprayed down with water and bleach. Including their food. "Fuck. Shit. Sorry, guys. I forgot about the stupid sandwiches." There was a purring reply as many of them tried to talk at once to her, but she simply turned off their microphones.
Fuck. She had to decide if she was going to go make another batch, or just let them eat the soggy ones. Eh, she could bring more later. If they were hungry, they could pick at the waterlogged ones. The Asian man seemed an easy to spot to start. Would these people be up for release or execution? She wasn't particularly enthusiastic about either option, both seeming incredibly time consuming and annoying. She did not have time for all this shit. She had baby-killing Chance to hunt down.
"Hey, dude. Do you know where you are?" she spoke into her headset.
Big Asian opened his eyes, looking around. "Who is talking to me?"
"Do you know where you are?" Her voice was sharp and unfriendly.
"Who the fuck is talking to me?"
"Either you know where you are, or you don't," she said, beginning to get irritated.
"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?" He paused at each word, shouting angrily. She clicked the microphone off. She didn't really need to argue. She just needed to find out if they knew her name was Jaspierre, and they were in her house. The rest, she didn't give a shit about. Maybe she just hadn't talked to the right person. The red-haired girl didn't seem like she was able to leave yet. Her bandages were still blood-soaked. A few clicks of a button and a box slid open with new bandages for her. Jaspierre didn't bother questioning anyone else. Did she even really care that much? Perhaps she should just run a blade through them all and move on. Wasn't that the point? She was ready to move on. Besides, she had to kill Chance, and that was the only real priority.
So she walked upstairs and shut the fireplace the door carefully. It didn't appear to be broken and latched just fine. She reached up and clicked the serval's ear. The door swung open just like it was supposed to. Carefully, she shut it again. The fireplace, now that it was visible again, was full to the brim of skeletons. Dick head. Didn't he know you could only burn them one at a time? For a man as smart as Dru, he sure could be an idiot sometimes.
She walked through the kitchen and grabbed a slice of pizza. Thankfully, Arnold had taken it out of the oven or it probably would've been burned to a crisp. He had taken his half and was probably bleaching it before he ate it. She grinned. It was nice that he was obsessed with cleaning, but it sure was funny. She didn't bother to search for him because she suddenly remembered there were two naked women in her mother's room last time she went up there. Were those ladies still around? She walked down the hallway into the room. Well, it appeared they had left. Mother's room was the largest bedroom in the house, and Jaspierre let her eyes linger on the white bed. It hadn't been destroyed and she was happy. Mother's room was one of the few places she felt like Mother actually existed. Arnold hadn't cleaned in here yet.
There was that guy in the barn, though. She walked out to the barn, only after drawing a scarf around her face. No need to be easily recognized. She walked into the barn and the man was still there, arms raised above his head. But instead of being asleep, he was awake. "Do you know where you are?"
"Where am I?"
"Where do you think you are?" she said. He looked wild-eyed and rattled against his chain as if he was about to run. Jaspierre suddenly had pang of worry. When she was a child, she let Jasper out, and Jasper tried to kill her. When she was a child, she let Pierre out, and Pierre did not try to kill her. She let Basel out, and he tried to kill her and did kill her father. If indeed, two out of three people let out of cages would try to kill her, then this was a stupid game to play. She should just run a sword right through them, drop 'em in in the fireplace and, with a woof, they'd be gone.
"I don't know. The last thing I remember I was... I... I'm not sure. I think I was... Walking. Walking home? I guess. I guess that's what I was doing. Where am I? How did I get here? What are you going to do to me?" He was nervous. His eyes grew even more frantic, glancing left and right. He looked like a horse that was just about to kick.
"Has anything happened to you since you've been here? Do you know where you live?" she asked, considering her options.
"That doctor kept givin
g me shots. I don't really remember the rest. I'm awful hungry. Do you have any water?" He was straining against the chains, pulling them as hard as he could.
"Where do you live?" she said.
"I live in one of those cabins. Up that winding road. Do you know?" His eyes grew wide with frightened recognition and he started to shout, "I know who you are. I remember you! You helped that doctor. You told him to do this to me! I remember. Jaspierre!"
She stepped back suddenly. So this was part of Dru's plan. To make all of these victims think that she was the monster. That Jaspierre was the one ruining their lives. Probably his plan was to toss her back in prison as soon as she got out. Well, well, well. She pulled a knife from beneath her skirt and turned to look at the man. "I am so sorry. This is really quite unfortunate."
And she drove the knife into his neck, killing him.
Chapter
Nine
Edward considered his options. He wasn't exactly supposed to date a felon on probation. In fact, he would be risking his career. But even so, he decided that it would be okay to ask Jaspierre on an actual date. He wasn't sure he could impress a beautiful woman like her, but he couldn't stop thinking about her.
Hopefully, she would consider his invitation. He looked at a couple of options downtown, even a theater. But he wanted to have dinner in a way that was a little more intimate. It seemed like whenever they talked about cases, files, her daughter, and Chance, that they never talked about each other. And he would like her to ask him about himself, to be curious and interested. He hoped to intrigue her just a bit.
After a couple of hours of thinking, he finally decided where to take her. And he hoped that she would enjoy it.
"Hey, Jaspierre," he said into his telephone. "Would you like to have dinner? I was thinking a picnic."
She grew really quiet. He heard a muffled sound in background and fear raced up his spine. "Um, when were you thinking of going?" She was a little bit breathless; maybe she was wrestling with someone or something.
"Is Chance there? Is he in your house right now? You could just say yes and I will be on my way." His heart pounded with nervousness. She sounded like she was in mid-struggle with something bigger than her. There was a crashing noise. "Are you okay, Jaspierre? Look, I'm just going to come over."
"No, hang on a second." He heard a very loud hissing noise. Like a rush of air whistling out of a balloon. And finally, she continued, "It was nothing. I was just moving some furniture. It kind of got away from me while I was on the phone."
"Okay... But what was that hissing sound?"
There was a long pause. "It..." She paused again. It seemed to him like she couldn't think of a good lie. "It... I have no idea."
"Um. Well... Are you up for dinner?"
"Okay. How about around seven?" she said.
"Great. Are you sure nothing weird is going on? Because I can come over right now." He just knew she had to be lying.
"Hey, I'm fine. See you at seven."
She was lying. But what could he do about it? Not much. He started to have second doubts about asking her out. Yes, she was gorgeous, haunted, adorable, and talented. But she had something wrong with her. And she told a lot of lies. So, what should I do about that? Would she ever learn to trust him? Or would this be it? Accepting that she'd lie would not be easy for this cop. He was tempted to drive over and check on her anyway.
What if she was murdering Chance right now? Would she even tell him if she did? He found himself pacing around his over-sized dining room table. He was thinking about all this crap too much. He went back into the kitchen and start working on their picnic.
Chapter
Ten
Jaspierre had ordered several cords of wood that were delivered within the hour. She already had the skeletons in the fireplace under a blazing hot fire. And the man from the barn, she wheel-barrowed up the marble steps. He reminded her quite a bit of Mother. This same long trek with Mother in the wheelbarrow instead of this man. Well, Mother's head had been in her own lap since her skeleton had been decapitated. But Mother's was the only other body she had ever wheel-barrowed into the house. So many things had changed since that moment years ago when she found Mother sitting and rotting at her desk. She tried to shake off the image.
She hadn't fed Dru or talked to him since he had been locked up. She wanted to wait a little while and let him marinate. Suffer. She was dying to ask him where the bodies of Tessa and Ikali were, but she also on some level didn't want to know. What if he had eaten them? Or dumped them in the trashcan like expired fish? Let him wait it out. Torture would come soon enough. Or rather, she supposed torture had already been started. Going hungry was rather unpleasant. The wheelbarrow stuck on the top step and she almost dumped the man. But she managed to save him. She did notice, that despite him being much heavier than Mother, he was much easier to wheel. Probably because she was so much stronger. Her arms were strong, her legs were strong, her butt was strong. She could probably carry three or four bodies at a time if she really wanted. How long would it take to bring all those people up from the basement?
If she had a proper furnace to burn corpses in, it would make for an easy solution to her little infestation problem. Jaspierre could guess she was the only woman in the world with a house infested with circus freaks. Maybe she should just let Dru into the maze and let them take care of him. Wouldn't it be fun? It would. What had happened to her cars? Was there even a chance she'd see them again? Plus, she had to try to get back whatever money he still had.
Ugh, and her job. How could she get it back? How had Dru gotten it? Her mind rattled with questions. She'd have to interrogate him soon, but not so soon that she'd lose control. It would be infuriating to kill him before she got answers. So, turning him over to be throttled to death by the freaks, as fun as it might be, was not particularly useful to her. She had been planning on starting tonight, but then Edward called just as she was interviewing the Asian man. He managed to get a good smack on her and she ended up having to gas him. She wasn't totally sure why she'd answered the phone; obviously, that was a stupid decision. And then her second mistake was agreeing to go to dinner with Edward. Why did she do that? She needed to interview Dru, get her job back, dispose of all the circus freaks, find the corpses of her cats and daughter, and kill Chance.
She certainly did not need to go out. She did not need to sit and make moony eyes at a boy. She closed her eyes for a moment. She absolutely did not need to think about how his lips got so close to hers. Who had time for all of this? Not her. She was a busy woman.
Would he even like her once he found out how broke she was? She doubted it. She didn't know that much about dating, but she did know that suddenly being broke couldn't possibly help. She wasn't even sure if he liked her anyway. And she was pretty sure he didn't want her to just outright kill Chance. Seemed to be an outrageous request to Jaspierre. He honestly expected that she would let that man live? Even Edward, the very nice man who was a cop, should know that she deserved to kill the monster who ruined everything. What do they call it in golf? A mulligan. She should have the unfathomable right to enact justice on Chance. It seemed like the only American thing to do.
Somehow, Edward just didn't seem like he would ever see it that way. What happened to him to make him so sick and twisted? She didn't understand it. Hadn't he burned corpses when he was a child? Did his parents simply hide the harsh realities of life? Was he just naive? Did he know that it was normal? Just like speeding? Or did he really have no idea? Mother had never gotten caught. Jaspierre didn't know how many people Mother had killed, but she was guessing that it would be around thirty or more. Jaspierre had now barely killed five people. Seemed like nothing in comparison. So why on earth would he make such a big deal about it? She just didn't get it.
She finally rolled the man into the fireplace and piled log after log after log on top of him. It wouldn't be enough; she'd have to burn that fire long and hot. It would take several days to burn up the rest of the skele
tons and this man from the barn. She had forgotten to check the 3-D printers to see if they were done with whatever it was they were making. Maybe she should try to attach the creation to Dru? Could be fun. She hadn't done any surgeries on anyone in years. She was completely out of practice. Of course, maybe she could practice on one of those circus freaks. She wrinkled her nose. The hot smoky smell of roasted person suddenly overcame her. She didn't really want to go through that effort. She hurried upstairs; she'd hate to accidentally smell like charred human flesh on her date. As she quickly showered, she realized she hadn't slept in her house yet.
She stepped to Lucas's room and peered inside, still wrapped in a towel. He had only stayed up there a few nights, and even those nights he didn't stay much in his own bed. Yes, it seemed like this might be a good spot to sleep. The bed was not broken. The closet was small, but conveniently, she had a downsizing of her wardrobe, what with everything missing. She hung up the two bags of clothes that she had purchased. Only two pairs of high heels and one pair of slip-on flats. It was embarrassingly bare, further evidence that she was poor. Would five hundred thousand dollars be enough to cover her wardrobe? She put on the black tall stilettos and slid on her green flirty dress. Carefully, she clicked back on the little golden necklace. "Mine Forever." Every time it glinted and dangled, it would remind her to kill Chance. It seemed odd to her that her breasts were so small. She had been used to massive cleavage for so many years. A hefty set of tits. It made her uncomfortable, but she supposed if she decided to stay slim that she could always sew some on the way other women did.
She hadn't purchased anything other than a simple lipstick. So she put that on, and she put in her gold hoop earrings. They weren't expensive; she didn't have the kind of money anymore to buy expensive things. Only a hundred dollars. When she was rich again, she'd toss them and get a proper thousand-dollar pair. She glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. She was pretty early.
Jaspierre's Last Chance (Jaspierre Trilogy Book 3) Page 4
