No Ordinary Killer

by Rita Karnopp

  She placed her fingers on the keyboard and lightly tapped them as a scene formed in her mind. As she typed, the scene took over.

  Sarah Betrovek stared in disbelief at her lover. “Why?”

  “I said, take your clothes off.”

  “And I asked, why. It’s cold out here. It’s a gravesite for Christ’s sake. Let’s go into one of the deserted buildings. Hell, I’ll even make love in the old church if you want. But have sex here, on a grave, hell no.”

  “I thought you were the one who said you’d have sex anywhere, the kinkier the better. Come on. The place is closed for the winter. The sun is shining and I’m in the mood.”

  “Look, honey. Her name was Samantha Brown,” Sarah traced the lettering with her fingertip. “Her name starts with my initials. That is too freaky. She was born in 1892 and I was born in 1992. Did you do this on purpose? Not funny.”

  “Can’t you see the relevance?”

  “What relevance.”

  “In 1912 James LaFarge’s fiancé, Samantha Brown, was found murdered right here on this spot. In those days a popular event in Marysville was a drilling contest. Miners from all around would compete for the World’s Drilling Record. On the night of such an event, James found his young, beloved Samantha murdered. When I saw she had the same initials in her name as you and was born one hundred years earlier, I knew I had to show you this.”

  “I think that’s too cool. But why should we mess around here? Honest, honey, it isn’t a good thing. I mean the girl was murdered here. Uh, how was she killed?”

  “James’ mother gave his best friend, Tommy Cruse, a loan. It seemed Tommy owed everyone money. He took that little loan and found the Drumlummon vein and became a multi-millionaire. He named Marysville for its first female resident, Mary Ralston.”

  “Well, aren’t you a walking history lesson. I didn’t realize you dug ghost town history.”

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t realize.”

  “Fine. You still didn’t tell me how she died.”

  “James found her naked, face-down, spread eagle in a sexually provocative position. Guess her jaw and nose bones were broken and her neck had been snapped. James buried her on the spot and had this wrought-iron fence placed around her grave to keep her safe.”

  “Aw, that’s a sweet love story. Did they catch her killer?”

  “Since Barnard Graff often made it known he favored the girl, the sheriff quickly strung him up for Samantha’s murder. Most townspeople didn’t believe Barnard killed her. Some even speculated that once Tommy struck it rich he felt everything in town belonged to him, including his best friend’s girl, Samantha Brown. She refused his advances and many believed she paid the ultimate price.”

  “So if people believed Tommy killed Samantha, why’d they string up poor Barnard?”

  “It happened so fast, I guess they didn’t get all their facts straight. It was a done deal and the law wasn’t any different then, than they are now. They got it wrong.”

  Megan leaned back in her chair. So, once again an innocent man may have paid the price for a murder he didn’t commit. The plot of her book was solid. The pattern was clear. The killer found cases where an innocent man was found guilty of a crime. Then the killer would find a girl with the same beginning initials and would create a similar murder, framing someone other than the killer. The police would be the catalyst for the innocent man’s conviction.

  Megan paused … the killer was manipulating this book toward this plot. She may have thought of it … but it panned out only because of the cases presented to her.

  Sipping tea, Megan mulled-over several questions. How did Cooper fit into all of this? The killer definitely hated Cooper. Why? If she could figure that scenario out, then maybe she could figure out who the killer was. If he’s so willing to kill so many people, what would stop him from killing her when the book was finished?

  The killer wants the promotion and kudos of exposing Cooper as the mastermind and most violent serial killer of all time. Was the killer’s ultimate satisfaction the knowledge he’d been smart enough to fool them all? In the end … an innocent man would pay the price for something he didn’t do? Megan shook her head. This was big. This was fucking big. Who could she go to with this concept? The only thing the killer couldn’t see or hear … were her thoughts. She was screwed … in more ways than one.

  This could easily make her a victim. If the killer was her lover, then he had been planning to get revenge on Cooper for a very long time. The thought was unsettling. What had Cooper done to deserve this? What if she could uncover the real killer and reveal it in her book? Not only would it be about past murders, but it would reveal the serial killer of six helpless victims. She could show Cooper and the whole police department that she … and she alone … uncovered the physical evidence to expose the killer behind the biggest murder scheme in centuries.

  Maybe she should contact Alex Petty, investigator for James Airhart. She needed an outsider to follow her lover. She needed to know who he was. More than once Alex had made no secret he wanted to bed her. James made him back-off, but she didn’t erase him from future needs. Now she was glad she hadn’t. She’d have to find a way to contact Alex without the killer or her lover finding out. She had spotted a pay phone in the lobby. She would have to take the chance. Nothing was going to get in her way.

  Fingertips back on the keyboard, Megan forced herself to concentrate.

  “That’s sad. Come on … let’s check out those old buildings.” She rubbed her fingers over the headstone one last time.

  “You haven’t taken your clothes off yet.”

  “Well I’m not going to. Now let’s check out the town or head back home. Either one is fine with me.”

  “You don’t get it yet, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  He moved in close and pulled her hard against him. He sought her lips and pulled them in, hard and demanding. As always, Sarah was up for the want. Seductively, she pressed herself into him. She encouraged him to slip each button free, then the snap of her bra. She giggled and allowed the items to fall to the ground. She had his shirt off and worked at the metal button of his jeans as he worked on hers. She held still as he pushed the material down her legs, kissing her skin as he lowered them. She trembled from his touch, excited and thrilled at the expectations it held.

  “You taste incredible.”

  He moved lower and she trembled, stepping out of her jeans. He tossed them to the ground. She swayed her hips seductively as he slid his palms up the sides of her legs. Grabbing her buttocks, he lifted her and she straddled him, taking him fully. She rode him hard until he suddenly went limp.

  “What? Not again. Do you know what that does to me? Maybe you should get some Viagra or one of those enhancers so you can finish the job. You’re young enough to go at it for hours. Are you fucking someone else? Because if you are … you can stay away from me. Put me down.”

  “Alley cat, you couldn’t be satisfied if I stayed hard all night long. I have several other lovers, and they have no complaints. You suck a man dry before he’s half-way there.”

  “Meaning what exactly?”

  “You’re insatiable and that’s partly what I like about you. I am totally satisfied without having to beg for more. On the other hand, there is no making you happy. That’s why you’re perfect for my needs.”

  She smiled, no longer angry. “You say the sweetest things. I’ve always known I love sex and have to have it. I’ve also known I need it more often than most. I’m not complaining, it suits me. You want to give it another go?” She lay across their strewn clothes and spread her legs in offer.

  “Oh, I want to give you more than you’ve ever had, Sarah. I promise you, tonight you’re actually going to get more than you can handle.”

  “I’ve heard that promise before.” He moved down and entered her, straddling her, pinning her legs down. She took the first punch in the nose. Tears flooded her eyes as the pain exploded. “What the fuck
? Get off me!”

  “I’m just beginning, Samantha.”

  “What? I’m Sarah you asshole. Who the hell is Samantha?”

  “Samantha Brown. You’re pressing down on her grave right now.”

  Sarah looked into the glazed eyes of the man she thought she knew. He slid his fingers around her throat and slowly squeezed. Fear gripped her. “You don’t have to do this shit. I’m freely giving you all I got. So why the fucking punch and why are you choking me?”

  “Watch your mouth.”

  The next blow hit her square in the jaw. An electric jolt shot to the back of her head. “Please, stop it.” He drove into her and for the first time she didn’t want what he had to offer. She struggled to get free, but he punished her time and time again. She tried screaming, but her jaw refused to move and she moaned her agony as loud as she could. Dazed and in great pain she lay back as he removed a razor from his bag. How come she hadn’t notice the bag before? “What … why?” she managed to whisper.

  He wasn’t hearing her. He pulled her hair with his left hand while moving the razor across her scalp. Her long hair peeled away like a banana. He tossed clumps of golden strands to the wind. She couldn’t feel her legs. He continued to sit on her chest, making breathing nearly impossible.

  She closed her eyes … his torture took control….

  * * *

  Dallas woke to darkness. Training took hold, she remained still. She closed her eyes and listened. Wind whistled sporadically and she felt the cold breeze it caused. Tree branches clattered together and what sounded like loose shingles snapped in rhythmic response. If she were to guess, she was in some type of shed or old house.

  How did she get here? “Cooper?” She whispered, then regretted speaking out loud. If the killer was near, she had just alerted him she was awake. She knew better. It had to be night. Cold gripped every inch of her body, she shivered.

  “Dallas?”

  “Oh my God, is that you Cooper?” She struggled to see anything in the pitch black, but she couldn’t make out a single shape.

  “Uh … yep. Where are you?”

  “To be honest, I truly don’t know. I woke minutes ago.”

  “Don’t move, keep talking and I’ll find my way to you. Oh, damn.”

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “My head feels like punching bag that got hit too many times. I have a splitting headache.”

  “You guys—“

  “Yeah, I know … are such babies.”

  “I’m freezing and my shoulder hurts like hell. I’m on the ground to be honest with you. It feels and sounds like we’re in a shed or old building, but I don’t think it has a floor. It’s packed dirt and if I were to venture a guess, it’s near frozen.” He bumped into her bad shoulder and Dallas jumped. “Ow, take it easy there detective.”

  “Sorry. Damn, it’s darker in here than the bottom of a four-hundred foot well.”

  “I’ll have to agree with you there. You have any idea where we are and how we got here?”

  “Last thing I remember is being pistol whipped. It’s been good night Irene until now. How about you?”

  He moved up alongside her and pulled her into his chest. She paused, then leaned into him. “I got tired of waiting so I decided to come looking for you. I found you lying on the ground. When I stopped to check on you someone came up behind me and pressed a chloroform cloth against my nose and mouth. Here I am, unable to see a damn thing and not sure how I got here or why.”

  “It’s at times like this that I wish I smoked.”

  “Excuse me? It’s a disgusting habit if you ask me.”

  “Our captor took no chances and emptied my pockets. My guess is he did the same to you, too. One thing a smoker always has is a lighter or matches. I’d give a gold nugget for either.”

  “How big is the nugget?”

  “You telling me you—“

  “Don’t laugh, but I have matches.”

  “You have matches. Right. And I have a steak dinner in my back pocket, too.”

  “You have to promise you won’t laugh.” Dallas moved her hand over her belt.

  “Hey, I won’t laugh if you have matches hidden somewhere on your body.”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Cooper. I have a ten-year-old nephew, Joshua. Well, he’s not really my nephew, he’s my best friend’s son. He calls me his aunt. Anyway, he gave me this great gift last year for Christmas.”

  “And this is relevant how?”

  “Be patient. I’m getting to it. You see, he’s enamored with Get Smart.”

  “Oh, the 2008 Get Smart movie with Steve Carell and Anne Hathaway? I expected it to be dumb, but I actually enjoyed it.”

  “Hmm, you a move buff, too?”

  “Can’t beat a good movie. I hate advertisements so much that I’d rather see a movie five times than watch a show on TV and suffer through the ads.”

  Dallas chuckled. “Well, I couldn’t agree with you more. But the Get Smart I’m talking about is the old TV series with Don Adams as Maxwell Smart.”

  “How old is your nephew?”

  “Very funny, Cooper. My point is he has the complete series and watches them all the time. He loves their gadgets and creates his own. He makes me things to use … on-the-job.” Dallas couldn’t help laughing.

  “Like what?”

  “Well, I was just getting to that. What would you say if I told you he made the belt I’m sporting? I wear it because … well, it makes him happy. It’s that simple. He comments on it every time he sees it.”

  “Oh, sporting huh? The buckle that says ‘Girl Power’?”

  “You noticed?” She released a soft giggle. “Yes, and before you laugh too hard you should know he hid matches inside my girl power belt buckle.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, I’m really serious. But that’s not all, Mister who bet a gold nugget for matches. He also … well—“

  “Don’t stop now.”

  She could hear the smirk in his tone. “Remove the belt and I’ll explain.” He didn’t say a word before moving his palm up her arm and pausing lightly on her breast.

  “I suspect this is a bit too soft for a belt buckle.”

  “Very funny, Mr. Reynolds. Behave yourself.” She held still and smiled, a rush of heat followed his touch in spite of the cold. He slowly moved his palm across her ribcage before settling on the belt buckle.

  “I do believe I’ve found it, Agent 99. What would you have me do with it now?”

  “Very funny.” She waited for him to slide the belt free from her waist. “Now I know you’re going to find this hard to believe, but there is a peg to push down which releases the bottom tray. Inside you’ll find matches.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “Don’t do anything yet. This is the unbelievable part. Feel along the belt and you’ll find … here,” Dallas slid her fingers over his hand and guided him along the belt until she found a straight peg. “Find these and push them so the belt becomes rigid.”

  “I’m failing to understand what we’re doing here.”

  “Be patient, Cooper. Just do it and I’ll explain it as we go.”

  “I learned at an early age to never argue with a woman on a mission.”

  “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Well, don’t sound so damn patronizing. Sexist comments just don’t cut it with me.”

  “I was trying to be funny, Dallas. I figured it would keep us from thinking about our predicament and the damn cold.”

  “Now I’m thinking about our predicament and the damn cold. Thank you very much.” She hoped her tone apologized for the earlier crack.

  “There you have it, we were better off with you being on a mission. Okay, now that this belt is stiff like a cane, what exactly are we creating here?”

  She smiled, even though she knew he couldn’t see. “You ready to be impressed?”

  “Yep.”

  “Promise y
ou won’t laugh?”

  “Lady, if this thing sang Dixie, I wouldn’t laugh.”

  Dallas chuckled. “When you pushed the pin into the slot, it not only fastened the belt into a stick, but it released a small amount of lighter fluid into the wick that is strung throughout the belt.”

  “No way. Are you saying we just created a torch?”

  “You catch on quickly, Maxwell.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “The rough sides of the belt buckle will work like those of a matchbox—“ Light burst from makeshift torch. “You might find something to wrap around the lower edge, just in case the metal starts getting hot. It’s not all that bright, but it beats the hell of total darkness.”

  “I’ll be damned. This is great. Remind me to thank your nephew—“

  “Joshua.”

  “Joshua. Damn, this thing is incredible. How old is he?”

  Dallas smiled. “He’s ten and amazing to say the least.” She glanced around, accessing their situation. “Now that my eyes have adjusted, I’d say we’re definitely screwed.”

  “Stay put. I’m going to walk the perimeter and see if I can find a weak….”

  “Why’d you stop talking? What’s wrong?” Dallas scrambled to her feet and stared at Cooper’s back. His shadow cast against the wall he faced.

  “Damn.”

  “What,” she asked bumping into him and stopping dead in her tracks. “Tell me you know something more than me about bombs or booby traps.”

  “This looks like something conjured up by Braddock in Missing in Action.”

  “I don’t agree. It’s more like Rambo.”

  “You might be right. I think we need to look around for another way of departing.”

  Dallas chuckled. “That wasn’t exactly the best word to use. How’s the torch holding up?”

  “Amazing. I need to get me one of these.”

  “I’ll have him make you one with Boy Power engraved on it.” She laughed out loud.