It's A Shame

by Hansen, C. E.

  “I’d like it if you were laying here just like that when I get home from work.” He mumbled into my lips.

  “Keep talking like that, and I’ll make sure you don’t ever get to work.”

  Then without a word he zipped up his pants and walked towards the bathroom. I leaned on one elbow and watched him walk away, the muscles in his hard ass flexing. Yum. I heard the shower turn on.

  Spontaneity is sorely underrated.

  Several minutes later, Cole came out of the bedroom dressed in a black suit looking every bit as fuckable now as he did before. I loved the contrast of his black hair and suit against the pure white of his shirt, offsetting the sun-kissed glow of his skin. I smiled, while a promise of ‘more to come’ danced in my eyes. He lowered his mouth and kissed me squarely on the lips, eyeing me all the while.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he growled.

  “Well then, stop looking so fucking hot,” I countered.

  “I’ll see you back here 5:45.”

  “Like this?” I spread my legs.

  The sound that rose from his throat was unlike any other I’ve heard before, like a trapped animal.

  I pulled my robe back on and walked him to the door. I kissed him goodbye and watched as he walked towards the elevator mumbling something about ‘meeting’, ‘work commitments’ and ‘pain in the ass’. I just stared after him until the doors of the elevator closed. Then went to take a shower myself. Forty-five minutes later Michelle came by to collect me and we rode the elevator down. Coles’ car was waiting curbside, Ray standing next to it. Upon spotting us he reached out and opened the door.

  “Miss Preston, Miss Maloney….” He stood patiently next to the opened door, his hands clasped in front of him, the slight bulge in his jacket where his sidearm rested in its holster not noticeable to anyone but us.

  “Thank you Ray!” we chimed as we climbed into the back of the Landaulet. Ray had opened the top and we both leaned back in our seats lifting our face to the warmth of the glorious early afternoon sun overhead. We pulled out of the large round driveway and we headed to Grazio’s at the Water Street Market for lunch and shopping. I breathed a sigh of relief, and I know Michelle did as well. Having Ray near, especially after last night, did wonders for making us feel secure and safe. It was exactly what we needed. Knowing he was very well trained on the sidearm he kept close to his vest put our worries to rest.

  Chapter 5

  When we got home from lunch and shopping, Ray opened the trunk of the Landaulet and Michelle and I leaned in to grab our shopping bags. We rode the elevator up in silence, both of us thankful for the exhausting day, which helped steer our thoughts away from the horror of last night. As soon as the elevator door opened and we stepped out, I spotted it. Lying directly in front of my apartment door was another square plain cardboard box.

  I heard Michelle’s gasp and mumbled expletive and felt my legs weaken as we both stood like idiots staring at the ominous parcel. I grabbed the wall for support as my stomach heaved and my body slid slowly down to the floor. Michelle reached into her purse and pulled out her cell dialing Cole, who apparently from what I could understand of her half of the conversation, told her he would be right over and would contact the detectives.

  “Cole said not to touch it,” Michelle said softly as she squatted next to me.

  “Like I would anyway…really?” I looked at her incredulously.

  It was like we were in the twilight zone; neither of us was able to pull our eyes away from the plain square box.

  She stood and peered around the slight turn to see if she had also received a parcel. When she turned back to me, the paleness of her face confirmed my fear.

  “Come on Grace, let’s go in my apartment and wait for Cole and the police there.”

  She grabbed my elbow and helped me to my feet, pulling me along behind her. I slowed as we passed my door and the box, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms rise. She tugged my arm dragging me around the bend with her, and we stepped past her nondescript little box. She pulled her keys from her jacket pocket and opened the door.

  Once inside her apartment, with the door closed and locked behind us, I let out a sigh. I walked into the kitchen and plopped my bags on top of the table and sat down, both mentally and physically drained. A slow, creepy feeling slowly rose inside me…I’m pretty sure it was dread.

  “This is so fucking horrible… who the hell is doing this? Even worse…whose fingers…” my voice faded as I thought about the ‘victim’ for the first time since receiving the first ‘package’.

  “I hope the cops got somewhere in their investigation or whatever they’re doing. I wonder if she’s alive?”

  “SHELLE! Really, do you need to say that?” I lowered my head. “This is so fucked up.”

  She stood there with her mouth wide opened, looking totally bewildered by my eruption. I got up and walked down the hall into the bathroom. After shutting the door I walked over to the toilet, put the lid down, and sat on top of it. I lowered my head in my hands and I broke down. All the sadness, frustration and anger I was holding onto flowed out of me like a river, my emotions overtaking me. I didn’t hear the front door open or Cole’s arrival so I was somewhat shocked when he just opened the bathroom door and walked in.

  “What is wrong with you?” I barked. “What if I were using the toilet…? Jesus Christ. Can I have some fucking privacy?” I angrily swiped at my tears, somewhat embarrassed at having been caught crying.

  Cole stood there stupefied by my outburst, clearly not knowing what to do. I had never spoken to him like that before and I immediately regretted the tone in my voice.

  “Grace…I just wanted to see if you were ok,” he clarified and shook his head, trying to stem his own building anger.

  “Should have knocked… that’s what people do when other people are in the bathroom… they knock.” My voice was small.

  He turned around and banged on the door with his fist.

  “Hear that? That’s me knocking,” he said defiantly.

  “Cole…” my voice got smaller.

  “I’ll be inside, when you get yourself together come out.” Looking dejected and hurt, he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  What the fuck is wrong with you, Grace? Why are you taking it out on him?

  I immediately yanked on the toilet paper, sending the roll spinning. I tore it off and wadded it into a ball in my hand, swiping it across my eyes. I looked in the mirror and stared back at a face I hardly recognized. I didn’t like her.

  After I cleaned the black streaks trailing down my cheeks from my eyes, I walked back out into the hall. I could hear Cole and Michelle talking in the living room. When I walked in they both stopped talking and looked up at me.

  “Better?” Michelle asked.

  “I’m just peachy,” I said as I took a seat next to Cole. “I’m sorry Ace…I’m just a little off my game. I should never have spoken to you like that. I’m really sorry.”

  I snuggled up to his shoulder and buried my head.

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” He wrapped his arm around me. “I should have knocked.”

  “I’m making coffee, anyone want?” Michelle announced as she stood up and walked into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, definitely for me,” I called out after her.

  “I’ll take a cup Michelle, thanks.” Cole said, then turned back to face me, and kissed my forehead.

  “I wish I could make it all go away, Grace. I’m sorry I can’t,” he whispered, his tone so genuine I felt even worse for how I spoke to him.

  “I know. I’m sorry too.” I shimmied closer to him and rested my hand on his arm.

  The doorbell rang and as Cole went to answer it, I stood up. I was still a little weak and my knees shook a bit.

  As the two detectives walked into the apartment, they both quickly scanned the room. Cole shut the door and followed them as they continued into the living area where I stood.

  “Thi
s feels eerily familiar,” Detective Johansen said, a smile playing on his lips.

  “It’s the same layout only turned around,” I offered smiling weakly.

  “Is that coffee I smell?” Detective Johansen asked.

  “Yup… want some?” Michelle asked as she walked into the living area, a huge smile lighting up her face. I looked at her quizzically. “Just put a pot on, it’ll be ready in a few.”

  “Did anyone touch either package?” Dean asked.

  “Nope,” Michelle answered, “We came right in here after I called Cole.”

  “Hell no,” I said as a shudder ran through my body. “Is it the same as last…?” I didn’t finish.

  “Don’t got a clue, but it looks like it. CSI is on the way now. Just wanted to rule out your prints if you did.”

  Michelle walked back inside the kitchen and a few minutes later returned carrying a large tray with the coffee pot, five mugs, a sugar bowl and container of milk.

  Detective Johansen walked over and relieved her of her burden. “Here I got that.” He smiled at her. He carried the tray the rest of the way to the living room, setting it on top of the aptly named coffee table.

  “Thanks…thank you.” Michelle smiled widely as she looked up at him.

  What the fuck?

  I continued watching Michelle and Detective Johansen. I almost broke out in a laugh at Michelle’s awkwardness, but then I remembered why he was here to begin with and shivered involuntarily.

  After Michelle recovered from her near fatal injury, her douchebag boyfriend, Jeff, broke off with her. He was apparently unable to deal with what almost happened and wasn’t at all interested in helping her heal, helping her take her life back. I knew then he would never be good enough for my Michelle, but that’s my opinion. I told her when she started getting hot and heavy with him that he seemed less than genuine, she grudgingly agreed. I was thankful she felt the same way. Jeff never had the heart to stay in it for the long run. She said it was because he never really loved her like he told her he did. I was inclined to think she was right.

  Like I said, douchebag.

  After Detective Johansen placed the tray down, he stood looking directly at Michelle. Cole and I briefly exchanged looks. So I wasn’t the only one to notice the chemistry between these two. Michelle leaned in and poured the coffee into the five mugs. Then sat down where she had previously been sitting when I’d returned from the bathroom.

  “Well, where to start?” Detective Johansen said looking first at me then Michelle, his gaze lingering a little longer on her. “We know for a fact that the finger you received was taken from a woman, who at the time it was cut off… um, severed…removed…anyway she was still very much alive.”

  He saw me wince at his description and grimaced.

  He glanced quickly at Cole and continued. “The only prints we found on the first package belonged to you people,” he looked at Cole and me, then Michelle.

  Detective Johansen glanced at Michelle and me again, “and…the victim.”

  We both gasped. I heard Cole curse under his breath.

  “This sick fuck, pardon my French…” he tried to look sorry for speaking so plainly, but was unconvincing. His partner, Carrie Verdi, let out a hoarse laugh.

  “We are all fluent in French Detective, I assure you,” Michelle said.

  Detective Johansen smiled at her.

  Come on guys, back to the finger…and the victim.

  “Well, he apparently used the severed finger to apply the tape and the label to the package…after he removed it, that is. So we are dealing with a smart son of a bitch. Who likes to play games.”

  “He what…?” I asked, my voice shaky.

  “We know he wore gloves, because one, there were no other prints found, and two, there were traces of the powder from inside the gloves found on the package and the tape as well.”

  “How do you know she’s alive?” I asked.

  “Dan… the M.E.” He cleared his throat. “The medical examiner, ran tests on the finger and that’s what he told me…and since he knows about that shit and I don’t, I believe him.” He smiled broadly and seeing his sense of humor fell flat on everyone except his partner, who was trying hard to refrain from laughing, his smile rapidly faded.

  Detective Johansen cleared his throat and continued, “We were able to get her prints and ran them through FFIS.” He looked at us one at a time. “We got lucky, we found out who our victim is. Fortunately for us she worked for a bank downtown and was bonded. Her family didn’t even know she was missing but a neighbor said he saw the girl leave her apartment five days ago, from what he could recall.”

  “Did she…does…does she look like me?” I said my voice barely a whisper. I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath until then.

  “No…” His head snapped up when he heard a call on his radio and he abruptly turned and walked towards the door. After opening the door, he spoke in a low voice to another police officer outside in the hall then closed the door and crossed back to where we all stood.

  “There was another finger in each box. Looks to be from the same victim.” He looked directly at me.

  I remember feeling sick just before everything went black.

  I opened my eyes to find Michelle on her knees next to where I lay on the sofa. Cole stood over her, a worried look marring his face.

  “You passed out Grace.” Michelle explained.

  “Shit…damn it.” I looked apologetically to Cole, who shook his head, seemingly sympathizing with me. A thought flew into my head and it was frightening.

  “Can someone call my mother and make sure she is ok?” I looked beseechingly at Cole. “But don’t tell her about any of this, I don’t think I can talk to her now,” I pleaded as Cole made his way to the counter where his phone was.

  He held the phone to his ear and I could hear him talking in a low, soothing, tone for a few minutes. He ended the call and slipped his smartphone into his pants pocket, and walked back towards us.

  “She’s fine…knows nothing. I told her we wanted to take her and Franklin out for dinner next week. Said she’ll look at her calendar and let me know what date works for them.” He smiled weakly.

  “Thanks,” I said, my double meaning understood.

  “Well, we’ll keep you up to date of any new information.”

  Detective Johansen turned to his partner and pointed to the door. “We’ll be finished outside in about a half hour. It would be better if you just stayed here until we’re done.”

  “Whoa there,” Michelle called out. Detective Johansen spun around to face her. “Did you find anything on the security cameras? Was there another note inside either of the boxes?”

  “That information is being kept confidential for now. I’m asking for your cooperation. Can I count on you?”

  She stood mesmerized…Hello, Michelle…wake the hell up.

  “Sure.” She nodded enthusiastically as she uttered her monosyllabic answer.

  He winked, “But you don’t have to worry, I’ll have an officer posted outside…you got nothing to be concerned about.” He turned to go.

  “Easy for you to say, you don’t have some crazy son of a bitch running around town dropping mutilated body parts off at your door and leaving cryptic messages, right?”

  “You’re right I don’t, but I understand your concerns, and believe me, we are doing everything we can right now.” He looked at Cole and me, then Michelle. “Just be patient with me…please.”

  Cole and I nodded.

  “Just hurry, please,” Michelle replied mimicking the detective.

  “Thank you detective.” I sat up and grabbed the glass of water Michelle held out for me.

  “Dean,” he blurted out.

  “Excuse me?”

  “My name is Dean…Grace.” He winked.

  He flashed his megawatt smile and I saw Michelle’s eyes light up. He walked through the kitchen into the hallway and after pulling the door open, shut it behind them as they both
walked out. Michelle stood and quickly walked over to the door. She opened it a few inches and peeked out.

  “Thank you,” she called out. Then she stepped back in shutting the door.

  “Holy Christ…here we go again,” I mumbled.

  “I get the feeling he didn’t tell us everything he could have,” Michelle said.

  “I know he didn’t… I’ve got a phone call I need to make.” Cole pulled his phone out of his pocket again as he walked into Michelle’s office closing the door behind him.

  “Do you know most people—like normal people, that is—don’t experience this…this craziness their whole fucking life...their whole fucking life? How is it that we are having to do this again?” I trailed off.

  Chapter 6

  He slowly pushed the door open, a small fraction at a time, in an attempt to be as quiet as possible. Mother would be watching her shows right about now, and he mustn’t interrupt her shows. She would be spread out across the couch upstairs like a beached whale. He hated how her obese frame caused the couch to bend in the middle. Her fat would slip into the dirty folds of the old sofa. She would scream like the Banshee of Hell if he disturbed her, even if for a single fucking second.

  He was smarter than she was. She didn’t even know about his special room. Of course, she was too fat and lazy to ever come down the stairs. Probably would have a heart attack if she tried.

  He descended the steps, creeping slowly, silently. He glowered at the sunlight struggling to penetrate through the dark painted windows, slipping in through the tiny cracks in the camouflage. He would have to repaint the windows again. He liked his privacy. This was his special place. Where he was in total control. He couldn’t have anyone seeing, knowing…it was his secret. He looked forward to coming here each day and spending time with her.