Trinity of Darkness: The Darkness Unbound Collection

by Glenn Porzig

  Dee Dee saw him staring and glanced him over, she appeared to like what she saw.

  "I'm Dee Dee, you had a question about Destiny?"

  "I was told that you saw her with a patron last night?"

  "She was with a few, she usually stays pretty busy. The pervs seem to like the younger ones."

  "But there was one in particular, I was told he gave you a big tip?"

  "Yeah, there was one guy, not bad looking. He gave me a twenty. Most of these young bucks are so cheap, they don't know how to tip like a real gentleman."

  "Had you seen him before? Can you tell me anything about him?"

  "I don't recall him. Like I said, she has so many admirers—I can't keep track of them all. All I do remember is he didn't look like some sleezeball. He was dressed nice, clean cut, looked like he had money."

  "And that's all you remember? Did he do or say anything out of the ordinary?"

  "Well, it wasn't that unusual… but I do remember that when I asked him to open a tab that he declined to give me his credit card, said he was married and wanted to pay in cash. All the good ones are married."

  "Damn. No credit card trail. What about security video?"

  "Sorry sweetie, our clientele like their privacy. No video," replied Dee Dee.

  "Thanks, you've all been very helpful. If any of you think of anything—or you see this man again, be sure to contact the police." Drake held out his card. Dee Dee snatched it up and shoved it down between her breasts. She smiled and watched him as he walked out.

  ***

  The interview was about to start. Vicki had spent the day getting her hair done, and her make up just right, before finally deciding on which of her dresses to wear to make the best impression. It was odd sitting anywhere other than the anchor's seat after so many years working at WYKN. But it felt good to be the celebrity now. She's the one they all wanted to see.

  Caroline sat down across from her on the interview set and straightened her wireless microphone. She wasn't happy to be here interviewing her former rival, but she was a professional and she would act the part. She got out a small mirror and checked her makeup one last time before they started recording.

  The floor director came over to them. "Are you lovely ladies about ready to start?"

  "I'm fine. Thank you," answered Vicki.

  Caroline just nodded and sat her mirror on the floor next to her chair.

  "Miss Taylor, when you reference your book be sure to hold it up and point it towards that camera over there so we can get a good shot of the cover. I'll check with the control room and let them know you're ready. We should be starting any moment now." The floor director then listened to his headset and nodded. "Looks like they're ready for us." He pointed to one of the cameras. "We're rolling. Start when you'd like."

  "I'm Caroline Phipps and today we have joining us in the studio former WYKN anchor, and now author, Vicki Taylor."

  "Thank you for having me, Caroline."

  "So, Vicki, what prompted you to give up your career and pursue writing?"

  'Well, it wasn't an easy choice to make. I'd always loved it in Pennsylvania, and here at WYKN, but I felt that I'd accomplished everything I set out to do as a reporter, and that I had a story that I was in a unique position to tell."

  "Why don't you tell us a little bit about that story, and how it became the subject of your first book?"

  "Well, true crime has always been fascinating to me, and has been the topic of many best sellers. My first big break as a young reporter had been the Carver massacre, where a poor local family was murdered. They had never found the killer and that cold case had haunted me. It remained open for thirteen years. It wasn't until another family was murdered in a similar fashion that the police were able to discover the true culprit. A man that had been under suspicion but had remained free to kill again."

  "That would be serial killer Lee Miller. He was shot and killed during another murder attempt," added Caroline.

  "Miller was responsible for the ritual murders of several young women in addition to the two families. No telling how many murders he may have been involved in during the thirteen years he was free. There are claims that he was a member of a local cult in his youth and the killings may have been intended as sacrifices to the devil."

  "And you had a special connection to Miller. Would you care to elaborate?" asked Caroline.

  "As you know, during the investigation of the Reid family murders, I was able to secure an exclusive interview with Lee Miller who claimed to be innocent and the victim of police profiling due to his long hair, dark clothes, and unconventional music choices."

  "So, if I may ask, why here, why now, and why you?"

  "Here is easy, this is where the murders took place. Now is because it's almost the one year anniversary of the Reid murders, and the fourteenth anniversary of the Carver murders. And why me? Because I was there when it began, and when it ended. And because I have a personal connection and insight into the case that goes beyond my years of work as a reporter and all of my research into the murders. My life was on the line. Police found clippings and photos of me at Miller's home. He was obsessed with me and I may have been his next victim."

  "That is dramatic and really brings this sensational story close to home. I remember the case well, I was the first to report on the Reid murders. Why don't you tell our viewers about your book and where they can find it?" Caroline said with an overly sweet smile. Glad she was able to get in a little jab at Vicki by asserting her own connection to the high profile case.

  Vicki gave a tight smile back and then continued on, holding out her book for the camera to see.

  "The book is 'Face of Evil, The true story behind the notorious serial killer Lee Miller' by Vicki Taylor. I'll be in town for the book release. I was lucky enough to be able to coincide the book launch with the grand opening of Belle's Books and Candles. It should be an amazing night, I'll be there signing most of the evening, and there will be champagne. I'd love for everyone to come join in the celebration."

  "Vicki Taylor, author of 'Face of Evil', I'd like to thank you for joining us."

  "Thank you for having me."

  "Viewers wanting to attend the launch party, the information is on the screen as well as on our website."

  ***

  The tiny brass bell rang as the door to the shop opened. Belle looked up from what she was working on, surprised to see a handsome stranger standing in the doorway. "I'm sorry, we aren't open for business yet," she said as she gave him a friendly smile.

  "Oh, I'm new in town. I just saw this really interesting historic building and I couldn't help myself. I hoped you'd let me come in and take a look around."

  "I'm new in town too. The name's Belle. And you are?"

  "Chris. I'm an architect, but I also do some restoration. I bought a place that I'm currently remodeling. The sign says you're opening a bookstore?"

  "And candles, don't forget the candles," she laughed.

  "Right. Candles," chuckled Christopher Clarke. "It's a beautiful old building. I bet it has a rich history."

  "I actually inquired about that when I signed the lease. This place has been home to a lot of businesses over the years, apparently at one point around the turn of the century it was even a mortuary!"

  "Seriously? Aren't you afraid of working here late at night all alone?"

  "I have heard that it's haunted, but I've not encountered anything out of the ordinary myself. I don't spook easily."

  "I'm glad to hear that you aren't the superstitious sort. I choose to only believe in things I can touch," He walked over to the custom counter and ran his hand across it, admiring the hand crafted details. "They don't make them like this anymore."

  "Well, if they did, nobody could afford it."

  "True, custom work isn't very affordable. But there are still a few true craftsmen out there, if you know where to look."

  "I was lucky that this place had so much of the original fancy detailed woodwork that was stil
l salvageable. Amazingly, the property has been in the hands of the same family since it was built."

  "That would explain it. Still, it's hard to believe that it survived intact after so many decades of renters."

  "I've been working on it a long time to get it in as good a shape as it is now. It hasn't been easy."

  "Oh, you don't have to tell me, I totally understand. You know, I have my hands pretty full with the renovations I'm currently working on… but I'd love to lend a hand here to help you get ready for your grand opening."

  "I certainly do appreciate the offer, but I'm not in a position to hire anyone at the moment. As I'm sure you can imagine, there's a lot of up front money to open a business like this and I've already spent so much without a penny in return."

  "Yet! You'll be open soon, and then the money will start rolling in. After all, even if people don't read any more they still need candles!" Chris smiled. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Belle. Good luck with your shop!"

  "Thank you. Have a lovely evening, Chris."

  ***

  "I'm glad to see that you've finally made it in to see me. I hear you put up quite a fight. Underwood's been calling all day to see if you kept your appointment."

  "I've been a little busy doing my job. So, whenever you're ready, just sign that paperwork and I'll be on my way," Drake said.

  "Settle down Detective. We need to have a little chat. I'm Constance Hatcher, and you are Alexander Drake?"

  "Alex."

  "Okay, Alex. Before we get started I'll need you to sign this release form so I can let the chief know that you saw me today."

  Drake took the papers, glanced them over, and signed them before handing them back.

  Doctor Hatcher was sixty years old, but she didn't look her age. She kept in good shape, was dressed professionally, and wore her long black hair in a ponytail. She sat down and indicated for Drake to do the same.

  "Better make yourself comfortable, Alex. This may take a while."

  Drake stiffly sat down on the couch, reluctant to open up to a psychologist. He believed in a lot of things, but psychology wasn't one of them.

  "Do you know why you're here today, Detective?"

  "Yeah, standard procedure after a shooting in the line of duty. So just check off whatever boxes you need to so I can get back on the street."

  "I just need a little of your time to evaluate how you're coping with the deaths."

  "Look, the right people lived, and the right people died. I have no regrets."

  "How does it make you feel that you took the lives of those three young men?"

  "Feel? I feel like this is a joke. They shot a cop. They got what was coming to them. End of story."

  "Would you do it again?"

  "Without hesitation."

  "Tell me more about why you wouldn't hesitate?" Hatcher adjusted her glasses.

  "Hesitation on the street can be a death sentence for you, your partner, or an innocent civilian. I don't second guess myself. I do what's necessary. Nothing more, nothing less."

  "Did you feel like it was your duty to shoot them?"

  "No sane person enjoys taking a life. I was saving a life. Officer De La Rosa is still recovering from where he was ambushed."

  "This isn't the first time you've shot someone. Your file says a year ago you shot down a man armed with a knife."

  "That man was a serial killer."

  "And six months ago you were in an altercation with two college students?"

  "They were paid to assault me… and I didn't shoot those two."

  "And the three young men this week? Was it necessary to shoot all of them?"

  "Look, you weren't there. I arrived on the scene after getting a call of an officer down. The punks fired on me, I just returned fire."

  "It sounds like you feel justified. Is that accurate?"

  "Damn right I feel justified. It was self defense."

  "I can't pretend to know what it's like out there in the line of fire as a police officer everyday."

  "You wouldn't believe the things I've seen…"

  "Have you had any trouble adjusting since the shooting? Trouble sleeping?" she asked as she slipped off her glasses and leaned back in her chair.

  "Lady, I haven't slept well for the last year."

  "Lady? It's Doctor Hatcher. I didn't spend six years in evil medical school to be called 'Lady'."

  "Okay, bonus points for the movie reference, but don't think that means I'm suddenly going to open up to you."

  "I understand. You have to be a tough guy in your line of work. But sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to. I see on your chart that you've been divorced."

  "That was a long time ago."

  "And you're over it? Have you moved on?"

  "I learned that having a family isn't the best idea. It doesn't mix well with the demands of the job."

  "Do you have any friends outside of work?"

  "I know people."

  "Do you have any problems with drinking or drugs?"

  "I had a bout with alcohol, but that's behind me."

  "Okay. I'm suggesting that you take some time to reevaluate what's important in life. Find something outside of your work."

  "There is a killer out there, right now, and you want me to take up a hobby? Every minute I waste in here with you puts him a minute closer to taking the life of another innocent girl. I can't afford to be off the street now. This is my case. It's my responsibility to take care of this."

  "I understand that you're passionate about your job—that you feel a sense of duty. But you aren't the only cop out there. You can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Eventually you'll break."

  Drake stood up.

  "Just tell Underwood I was here and we had a talk. We can continue this when the killer is off the streets. Until then, I've wasted too much time. I'll see myself out."

  "I'll expect to see you again next week, same time."

  ***

  "I don't normally do this sort of thing," said Christopher Clarke as the girl in the tight skirt got into his car.

  "That's what they all say, darlin'."

  She tossed her cigarette to the curb as she sat down, blowing a last puff of smoke out in a big stream as she closed the door. Her makeup was thick and helped conceal the dark circles under her eyes. She reeked of cheap perfume and stale cigarette smoke.

  "No, I have a wife… it's just that…"

  "It's okay. I'm not here to judge you. I have a place we can go just down the street, if you want to be alone."

  "I live close by, my wife's at work, we can go there…"

  She batted her eyelashes at him. "I don't just go home with anyone."

  "I have drinks there, top shelf, it's not far—really."

  He didn't look like a creep. He had a nice car, was dressed well. But something had to be wrong with him. A nice looking guy like that didn't need to pay for it. Maybe he just wasn't getting any at home, but didn't want the complications of a mistress. If he did have a nice place, it was probably full of nice things. This might be a good opportunity to case the place, and have a friend come back later to clean him out.

  She was wary, but he didn't look like too much of a threat. She'd spent years working the streets and felt like she could handle herself. She decided it was worth the risk.

  "Okay, just this once, we'll try your place."

  Christopher smiled and revved the car.

  ***

  The scent of barbecue filled the air. The restaurant was bustling with waitresses dressed in Daisy Dukes, cowboy boots, and ten-gallon hats going from table to table. Loud patrons guzzled their drinks and messily tore into their piles of food with wild abandon. Andrew Zahler sat patiently as their waitress filled his large glass full of southern style sweet tea.

  "I didn't think this was your sort of place, Vicki."

  "To be honest, this is my first time here. Not my style, but I guess it does have its charm," she smiled.

  "Come to think of it, in
all the years we worked together—this is the first time we've had dinner together—or done anything outside of work hours."

  "Well, you of all people know how it is. TV is your life. You get so caught up in it there's just no time for anything else."

  "Don't I know it," Andrew said and then took a big gulp of his iced tea. "Well, you won't be disappointed with the barbecue here. This place is rated highest of the local BBQ joints."

  "I'm glad you were able to make time to see me on such short notice."

  "Oh, anything for you, Vic!"

  "I'm glad to hear you say that. You were working the story when the stripper was killed, weren't you?"

  "Yeah…"

  Vicki smiled sweetly, not wanting to rush him. It would work better if she could make him offer to help her.

  "You know I'm launching my book about the Carver murders… I was just wondering, is there anything about the stripper's murder that maybe they're leaving out? Anything that would point towards Lee Miller?"

  "Miller's been dead a year now, Vic. There's no way it's him—unless you believe he's reaching out from beyond the grave—like some sort of zombie."

  "Of course not. It's just that, if there was any way I could get some inside knowledge, some sort of scoop… well, you know I'd be eternally grateful," she leaned in closer to him.

  "I uh," he gulped down some more tea. "I guess I could copy you the files of the video I shot. See if you see anything we missed."

  "Oh, would you? That would be wonderful. I would certainly appreciate it. Let me write down my e-mail and you can send me the link."

  "I just have one question…"

  "Sure. Anything."

  "Am I in the book?"

  Vicki hesitated, a little nervous of loosing his support.

  "Well of course you're in the book! You were an important part of the story—with me since the beginning. You may not be mentioned by name—but you're certainly in it."

  Andrew's shoulders slumped.

  ***

  A flash lit up the early morning, followed rapidly by another. A crime scene technician was photographing another body.