“I’m afraid not. My wife and I are very happy here,” Nick answered carefully, sizing his prey for a new plan flitting through his head. “Homes in this area are escalating in value at an incredible rate. A real estate agent stated a couple weeks ago in a phone call I could expect to get a million and a half if I did put it on the market.”
The figure startled Dansing, who had no intention of buying it anyway. “A million and a half? Wow… I was thinking more in the $750,000 bracket. You must have more than meets the eye here, Sir.”
Nick nodded amiably, chuckling a bit for Dansing’s appreciation. “Yes, I do. I have two safe-rooms built into the house, one upstairs, and one downstairs. The real estate agent was very impressed with those two additions.”
Surprise showed plainly on Dansing’s face. “Two safe-rooms? You mean the kind where a family may hide from burglars, and those awful smash and grab hoodlums?”
“Exactly. We are safe from nearly any threat with our safe-rooms and security system,” Nick said, baiting the hook with more chum. “Well… it was nice talking with you, but I-”
“Please…” Dansing held up a hand. “I have always thought about having one of those safe-rooms installed in my own dwelling. Would it be possible to see yours? My name is Oliver Dansing. I can show you my driver’s license and credit cards, or anything to put you at ease. I think it’s marvelous you would protect your wife and young daughter in such an incredibly thorough manner.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know I have a daughter, Mr. Dansing?”
Dansing grinned with practiced ease. “That’s easy to explain. When I came down last week, hunting for real estate in the area, I saw a young blonde haired girl playing with a dog on your porch. I of course assumed she was your daughter.”
Nick visibly relaxed as Gus faded more into the background. “Yes. That was my daughter, Jean, and her dog Deke. I guess I could show you my downstairs safe-room. It’s very state of the art with everything imaginable inside, including surveillance feeds from my security cams all around the perimeter of the house. I believe in security.”
“As do I,” Dansing replied. “How is it that you need such intricate precautions? I would have figured this area is so upscale you wouldn’t even need to lock your doors at night.”
“I wish.” Nick sighed, and opened his screen door to Dansing. “C’mon in, Mr. Dansing. I’ll show you around if you’d like. I’m a writer. My name’s Nick McCarty. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
Nick could tell Dansing had not garnered that knowledge, which meant his identity had not been given out by anyone on the police force. Dansing had indeed filmed the crime scene. Nick held out his hand, and Dansing shook it as he came inside. “This is my business partner, Gus Nason.”
Dansing shook Gus’s extended hand. “I’m sorry, Nick. I don’t know many authors. I mostly read non-fiction. What is it you write?”
“Pulp fiction mostly,” Nick admitted with a self-deprecating flair. “They’re popular enough to warrant my extra security measures though. C’mon, and I’ll show you.”
Nick led his guest to the safe-room downstairs, opening the panel access, and keying in his fingerprint entry. “It’s fingerprint entry. Go on, and have a look around, Mr. Dansing. I think you’ll find this is everything you could hope for in regard to security.”
“Call me, Ollie, Nick. Thank you.” The unsuspecting Dansing walked past Nick into the spacious safe-room, unknowing he was walking into the last place on earth he would ever enter willingly.
Dansing struggled mightily at first as Nick’s iron grip put him in a sleeper hold he could not break or alter. Nick jammed him down on his tailbone, slowly applying more pressure to Dansing’s throat until the man went limp in his arms. Nick stood, bringing over a chair while Gus watched the serial killer. Nick and Gus then plopped their captive into the chair, binding his hands and ankles to the armrest chair with duct tape. As a final measure, Nick looped a duct tape binding tightly around Dansing’s middle to the chair backing. After applying a strip to his guest’s mouth, Nick straightened away with an audible sigh of contentment.
“Sorry, Gus. I changed all of our plans on the fly. This prick is the whole package. I’m not letting him wander around, especially with him knowing Jean. I’ll call to Rachel, so they know it’s safe to resume their discussion in the kitchen. We’ll stay here with Eggbert, and get a few questions answered.”
Gus acknowledged the change of plan without more than a grunt. “Sounds good to me, Muerto. When he mentioned Jean, I could nearly feel the bad vibes radiating out of you. Should I contact Paul?”
“Good thinking. Yep. Put Paul in the loop. If he thinks of anything I don’t during questioning, he can jump in with you to make it known. I don’t often bother saying this, Payaso, but I’m going to enjoy this.”
“I don’t often say this, Muerto, but I’m going to enjoy this more.”
Nick called by intercom to the upstairs safe-room. “You ladies can do anything you wish now. We have the infamous serial killer in our capable hands.”
“I bet you do,” Rachel replied. It was no use pretending she was married to Casper Milquetoast. Rachel knew the arriving killer had not a prayer of ever overcoming Nick, or bending him to his will in some unseen manner. “Tina and I will be in the kitchen if you need anything, Nick.”
“Thanks, babe.”
In less than fifteen minutes, Gus read Paul into the op, and put him on speaker.
“Good Lord, Nick. Thank you for this. Do you have a way to interrogate this guy and still make plans according to what you probably had in mind?”
Nick laughed. “Are you kidding? C’mon, Paul. You’ve been out in the field before with shitheads like this Dansing guy. The perverted fucks have the pain threshold of a girl-scout, and that’s an insult to the girl-scouts.”
“Good one,” Paul replied. “Whenever you’re ready, my friend.”
Nick woke up the unconscious Dansing with a wetted washcloth. It would be the most compassionate thing he would ever experience. Nick watched Dansing groan into conscious realization of where he was. Nick then undid his jeans belt, and roughly tore his jeans down to Dansing’s ankles. Dansing hummed in shock, awe, and protest behind the duct tape over his mouth. He tried kicking out, bucking up and down, wrenching from side to side, as Nick and Gus enjoyed the performance from beyond his sight, making no noise while Dansing did his chair dance. When Dansing slowed to a stop, gasping heavily while drawing in air through his nose, Nick smacked him on top of his head. Nick and Gus moved into Dansing’s view then, waving at him cheerily.
“Hi, Sweetpea,” Nick said. “I’ll bet a big bad serial killer like yourself thought he was just the baddest thing on the planet. I’ll bet you were, as long as you were killing young blonde haired girls. I’m sorry, sweetie, but those days are at an end. Gus and I are here to introduce you to the punishment phase of what you’ve done. Naturally, you’re going to tell us we’ve made a big mistake, right sweetie?”
Dansing honked, grunted, jerked his head in violent agreement with Nick’s statement, and finally simply hummed loudly in wild-eyed pleading form. Nick slapped his cheek gently, while ripping off the duct tape over Dansing’s mouth.
“He’s so cute… isn’t he, Gus?”
Gus didn’t play the game as well as Nick. He stared down at the killer of twenty-six young girls with unbridled hatred… and anticipation. “Yeah, Muerto… he’s cute as a button.”
“I’ll bet you liked my daughter Jean. She fits your profile so well, it’s like you were made for each other. Unfortunately for you, I’m her Dad,” Nick said. “When you referenced her in a statement, you upset me. I’ll have to take my pound of flesh for you making me upset, Ollie. You wouldn’t want to know how anxious my partner Payaso here is for me to take that pound of flesh. He loves Jean like his own daughter. That you even mentioned her name makes him crazy.”
Gus reached out, pinched Dansing’s nose, and kept the unrelenting grip increasi
ng by the second. Dansing screamed in spite of having to gulp air through his mouth. “Good Lord, Ollie… I want to help you slowly into the afterlife myself. I don’t have the imagination my brother El Muerto has. I defer to him in all aspects of inflicting pain. You intrigue us, so we’re going to ask you some questions to help our understanding about pathetic shitheads like you in our own minds. I’d advise answering everything willingly, or your demise will I’m sure be legendary.”
Nick grinned in Dansing’s face, moving into view. “Oh yeah… legendary… such a neat word, but nowhere near covering what I have in mind. Let me give you a small illustration, tough guy, serial killer.”
Nick pinched the underside of Dansing’s ball sack with his gloved hand, increasing pressure until Dansing’s scream became a wall of abject pain. He released his ministrations. “That was your only demo, asshole! You will do anything and everything I say to do without question. Do you understand?”
Dansing shrieked his acceptance and will to do anything Nick asked. Nick abandoned his plan as he reached for Dansing again. Gus hugged his partner to him, carrying Nick away out of hearing. “You’ve got this, brother!” Gus whispered fiercely. “Don’t lose your edge now! We need his suicide note, a few questions of clarification, and then we stage him as you envisioned.”
Nick’s tensed body relaxed slowly, Gus’s plea filtering slowly into his head. He wanted Dansing in a way he seldom felt in intensity. Nick knew right from wrong. Sometimes, he didn’t care. The background of Dansing murdering twenty-six look-a-likes for Jean, along with Dansing’s face on approach at his house had triggered a safety valve inside Nick he had trouble controlling. He patted Gus’s arm.
“Thanks. Dansing wound my inner psycho with his past deeds. Ollie coming here, neat as you please, to do his playacting scene made me forget for a moment what the hell we’re here doing.”
Nick straightened away from Gus. He approached the sobbing Dansing with absolutely no empathy at all. Gus handed him an unlined tablet with pen. “Thanks, Gus. Okay, Sweetie, here’s what you’re going to do. We’ll release your hands for a moment. You’re going to write an incredibly heartwarming note about how you detested everything you’ve done, but you want to make amends. Then, you’re going to list all the burial locations for the victims the police know nothing about. Are we clear so far?”
Dansing began crying. It took many moments before he could address Nick. He assumed after heated thinking this was an elaborate bluff. “I want a fucking lawyer! I’m not giving you anything! I will sue your asses to kingdom come for what you’ve already done. This was a setup! I will own you, McCarty!”
Moments sometimes transcend reality. Nick exchanging knowing glances with Gus in this safe-room was one of them. They didn’t know what exactly Dansing knew or acted on for sure, but they did know Dansing would be sharing everything… and there would be no lawyer. Nick crouched below Dansing with his gloves on as Gus grabbed Dansing from behind, pinching the area at his scrotum he had worked on before. He didn’t pause for five full minutes. The chair they had Dansing bound to seemed ready to fall apart under its occupant’s wild gyrations of agony. Nick released him to hoots of breath intakes and relief from pain.
“I guess you think this is a game, pussy,” Nick said, slapping Dansing into recognition of where he was at. “I’ll repeat my instruction again before I deliver my penalty phase punishment. Are you ready to write now?”
“Yessssss…. God yes! Whatever you want me to write… I’ll write!”
Nick smiled at Gus. Neither man had any intention of easing Dansing’s pain. It would be a step by step process, but Dansing’s captors knew in intricate detail what he had done. They knew how to make his demise appear when found as a suicide. Nick brought the clipboard over to Dansing’s lap as Gus released his hands. Nick leaned in, eyeball to eyeball.
“Yes… please try something… anything. If you do anything other than write a sincere confession as I dictate to you, I will rip each of your fucking balls out of their sack, and shove them down your fucking throat!”
Nick gripped Dansing’s chin in one gloved hand. “Write what I dictate, and write it like your hours of pain ahead depend on it, because they will.”
Over the next half hour, Dansing wrote what Nick dictated, his handwriting becoming a bit shaky at the end as he neared the finish. Nick looked it over with satisfaction. “I like it, Sweetie. You seem almost penitent on paper. We have to move to the next phase now, which will be much easier, as you are now aware there are no last minute stays of execution. There’s just Gus and I along with our boss. He has a few questions for you, right boss?”
Paul Gilbrech proceeded to interrogate Dansing in minutia concerning his decision to become a serial killer, his motives, his obstacles, and his picking of targets. Gilrech did it in such a way as to draw Dansing in on an intimate basis. By the time Gilbrech finished, Dansing appeared on the verge of sexual excitement.
“Well… okay then…” Nick said in the way of finish. “I’m ready to barf. How about you, Gus?”
“Actually… if Paul’s loving interrogation hadn’t ended soon, I was planning on eating a bullet right here in the room. Nice, Paul – maybe you’d like to ask him out on a date.”
When Gilbrech finished laughing over Nick and Gus’s critique of his questions, he waved at them from Nick’s screen, “I’m done. I leave Mr. Dansing in your capable hands. Do you want transport?”
“No thanks,” Nick answered. “We’ll take him to his house for the final curtain. This may get a bit tricky at the end, but we’ll leave them with their only plausible scenario.”
“Understood. I will tidy up if necessary. Incredible outcome, gentlemen. You have done a service no one can refute. I pray you will be able to return to your pursuit of John’s prey soon also. Although I know you no longer need it, a bonus will be forthcoming to cover all doubt as to my appreciation.”
“Okay, Paul,” Nick answered. “Thanks. We’ll be in touch after we finish with the great serial killer, Ollie Dansing. Adios.”
Nick turned to Gus. “Okay, we have that at an end. Let’s take Ollie home, and finish the last scene in the Dansing play. Paul wore me out with those questions. What the hell was that about? Maybe he has to write a doctorate thesis on sick fucks like Dansing.”
Gus enjoyed Nick’s take on Paul’s interrogation, while readying Dansing for transport. “Want me to follow you in our loaner, or you follow me?”
“We’ll put Ollie in his Beamer trunk, and I’ll drive him home. Once we get there, we take care of business, and get the hell back home. C’mon, I’ll explain what we’re doing to Rachel. She’ll pick up Jean. I want every one of ours in the safe-room until you and I get back.”
“I agree,” Gus replied. “Maybe we should go collect Jean now, and then ride over to your friend’s place to get the car.”
Nick realized at that moment how much Dansing had thrown him off his game. It was only common sense to first remove Jean from school first. “Ollie has messed with my mind. Thanks for the reset. You’re right. Let’s get Jean, and go see Jerry. He’s never met Jean. It will mean something to him when he does. Plus, if my personal business keeps progressing the way it’s doing now, Jean will need all of my contact lists.”
Gus cinched down Dansing with gag back in place. “You’ve given up on altering Jean’s course, huh? That’s a big step, brother.”
“I wish I had a choice. Jean scares me. I never thought it was possible to make someone like me. I’m not so sure anymore. She’s seen so much, and has an absolute rage when it comes to bad guys getting away with the unimaginable, I think her empathy will get her killed unless I help.” Nick threw his hands up in the air, his own helplessness on display. “Jean drives me nuts. I know Rachel believes I’ll be able to turn her to writing, or anything other than what I do, but I’m losing faith that will be possible. She’s no psycho like me. Jean feels things at an elemental level. She wants to help people being terrorized by the bad guys. Unfortuna
tely, she knows how well our skirting rules works.”
“If it’s any comfort, I think you’re right,” Gus agreed. “The way Jean idolized what Rachel did for Mona, moving to take out Blackbeard, and save all their lives, tipped her over the edge. Maybe you could blame it on Rachel.”
The two partners enjoyed that pronouncement for a few moments, while they made sure nothing short of an armed intervention would free Dansing. His wild eyed persona amused Nick and Gus.
“Ollie doesn’t like any of this, Gus. He thinks there are extremely bad times ahead for him,” Nick said, as he and Gus moved to the safe-room exit.”
“I believe he is correct,” Gus commented solemnly. “The world will not miss this sadistic piece of shit at all. I’m sure he has a Mommy. He certainly had a lot to say about her when Paul interrogated him. I felt the joy. Hey Ollie, does your Mommy like you?”
Dansing indicated with enthusiastic positive head nods that indeed, he had a Mommy who would miss him.
“We’ll send her a condolence card after we send your ass to hell,” Gus stated. “I’m sure your demise will sadden her greatly, but Nick and I don’t give a flying ass shit… you twisted prick. You’re damn lucky we don’t have the time to spend with you we’d like, Pookie. I’m certain my brother, El Muerto, has an ending in mind that will both look like a suicide, and also make you wish you’d never been born.”
“Count on it,” Nick said with conviction. “In your favor though, Ollie, the death will not be close to what I’d like to do with you. In that sense, you are blessed. Gus and I have to leave you for the time being to make sure Jean gets home safely. Because of you, I’ve decided to introduce her to one of my contacts, who will be providing a car for this evening’s event. This meeting will be kind of a damnation for both of us.”
Outside the safe-room, Nick set the special code he had installed on the door so the person inside could not get out. He and Gus proceeded to the kitchen. “Gus and I have to pick up a car, and we’ll be taking Jean with us. When we get back, I’ll need you three and Deke to watch a movie in one of the safe-rooms while we’re gone.”
Cold Blooded III: Sins and Sanctions (Nick McCarty Assassin Series Book 3) Page 26
