Killers Among

by S. E. Green

He’s right about that, but still, I say nothing.

  Adam’s hands slide up to his steering wheel and then down both sides. “It’s okay. I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’ll respect your privacy.”

  “You’re not ready,” I quietly tell him.

  He shifts then, to look at me in the dark car. “I think it’s more you’re not ready. I can sit here and tell you another sob story about my alcoholic father, but something I haven’t told you about is the time he came home drunk to just me. Mom wasn’t there and neither was Scott. He was laying in his own vomit, passed out, and all I could think about was all the times he hit Scott, and Scott took it. And so I started kicking him and kicking him, and it felt so good and powerful. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was getting back at my asshole father. I felt like I was getting retribution for my whole family. Like I was finally in control. That was years ago, and ever since, I’ve been trying to feel that way again. That is why I decided to end his life when he asked. But the truth is, I would’ve done it if he didn’t ask me.”

  And that’s why Adam stabbed Ted. He wanted to feel that power again.

  “I’ve never told anyone any of that. But there’s something going on inside of me and I need to let it out. Sometimes I wonder if I have a monster in me. You say I’m not ready, but I am. You need to give me a chance.”

  A “monster” in him. I’ve always thought of the people I target as the monsters, never myself. But the reality is, I do have one. I have a monster, too.

  46

  “THANK YOU FOR this,” Adam tells me, slowly circling the bed centered in the Strangler’s room.

  Sprawled across the mattress lay Mrs. Strangler, her arms and legs tied to the bedposts with ropes taken from their sex trunk. On the television plays one of the tapes featuring the dead girls. So poetic.

  “Are you ready?” I ask Adam.

  “I am.”

  Gagged with a ball, Mrs. Strangler’s wide eyes flick between me and Adam. “Look at her trying to figure it all out.”

  Adam points to the screen. “We’re here because of what you did to them.”

  Mrs. Strangler begins violently shaking her head, moaning around the ball.

  Adam crawls onto the bed, positioning his knees to one side of her hips. He takes the scarf he’s holding and slowly wraps it around her neck. I’ve never watched before. I’ve never stood by and been a witness. I’ve never seen the moment of truth from this viewpoint. “How do you feel?” I whisper.

  Adam wraps the scarf again. “I feel fantastic. I feel powerful.” He glances over at me. “I feel bonded.”

  My whole body seems to elevate like my soul is floating away from my bones and my muscles, and I don’t breathe as I stare at his grip on the silk scarf and wait to see if he’ll do it.

  Adam keeps his eyes on me as he slowly begins tightening the scarf.

  I come awake, but I don’t open my eyes. My body feels like it did in the dream, elevated and hovering away from my skin. I set something in motion bringing Adam in. Everything he does I am now responsible for. I am now connected to. I am now burdened with.

  It seems we both have darkness blanketing the inside of us. I’ve learned to control mine, to channel mine. I’ve thought about cosmic balance before. Maybe it isn’t a mistake Adam and I were brought together. We were meant to meet. I was meant to help him, to teach him, to show him how to control the “monster” living inside of him.

  47

  THE NEXT MORNING I wake up. I smile at Daisy in the bathroom. I dress. I make Justin scrambled eggs for breakfast. I give every pretense of being a normal teenage girl.

  But last night and following Mrs. Strangler was no pretense. Just like breaking into her home. Adam and me, we did it together, and the more we’re together the more he learns my truths. My reality.

  Victor steps from the office, his phone to his ear. “Lane, weren’t you with Adam last night?”

  I glance up from the skillet and Justin’s eggs. “Yes.”

  Victor waggles the phone. “It’s his mom. He never came home. Wait—” Victor presses the phone to his ear. “Never mind, he just walked in.” My stepdad mumbles a goodbye and hangs up. He looks at me again. “What did you two do?”

  I shrug. “The usual. Hung out.”

  “What time did you get home?”

  “Around ten or so.” Because that’s what time Mrs. Strangler started her night shift at the hospital and we ended our following.

  Victor blows out a breath. “Looks like Adam’s in trouble. I can’t believe he’s causing his mom an issue right now. Not with everything she’s dealing with.”

  I can’t either…

  “Any idea where he went after he dropped you off?” Victor asks.

  I scoop the eggs onto a plate and hand it to Justin. “No clue.” But I’m going to find out.

  I watch as Justin squeezes mustard onto his eggs, and with a grimace, I grab my phone and head upstairs. My brother likes the weirdest stuff.

  YOU OKAY? HEARD YOU JUST GOT HOME, I text Adam when I’m in my room.

  YEAH, I FELL ASLEEP IN MY CAR.

  Where the hell did he fall asleep in his car? We live roughly twenty minutes from each other. What, he was so tired after he dropped me that he pulled over and took a nap? I don’t buy it.

  My phone rings and I pick up but before I can say hello, Adam says, “That was a lie. It’s what I told my mom. She’s mad, but she’ll get over it.”

  “Okay, so where were you?”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking all night about the imbalances in the world and how many ways we can right them.”

  I don’t like that he uses my terminology. “Adam, where did you go?”

  “We can right them with our own hands. Just thinking about it makes the world feel real. And exciting. Like for the first time in my life I’m eager to get up and start my day.”

  “Adam—”

  “Okay, okay. I went to the hospital where our nurse works.”

  “You did what?”

  “I wanted to see her interacting and stuff. I wanted to see her in her own environment.”

  My eyes close and I tell myself to keep calm. “There are cameras in hospitals.”

  “I know. I know. I was careful. Plus I already hacked the hospital’s system and cross-posted any feeds with my face.”

  Despite my irritation, that is impressive. “Cameras aside, people saw you.”

  “I was in disguise. Don’t worry. Don’t worry. I was so wired I couldn’t go back to my house. The next thing I know our nurse is clocking out and I went home. I’ll be better at this, I promise. I won’t do anything like that again. Just keep me focused like you’ve been doing. Listen, I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up later.”

  I listen to him end our call, and I glance at the clock on my phone. Mrs. Strangler works the night shift and leaves at eight in the morning. It’s 8:04. There’s no way that timing makes sense. Adam just lied to me.

  48

  THAT AFTERNOON ON my way to my Patch and Paw shift, I decide to swing by the Strangler’s condominium building. I roll through the parking lot, looking for the nurse’s black Kia and end up rolling right back out.

  I tell myself it’s not strange her car isn’t home. She’s probably out running errands. Still, I find myself heading to the hospital and circling through the staff parking lot, and right there it is—her black Kia. Son of a bitch.

  Mrs. Garner either never went home or she’s already back working someone else’s shift. Adam was here last night. Could be a coincidence, but probably is not.

  WHERE ARE YOU? I text Adam.

  WHY, YOU CHECKING UP ON ME?

  Yes, I want to type back, but instead say, JUST BEING A FRIEND.

  I’M FINE, NO WORRIES. YOU WANT TO COME OVER? I’VE…GOT A FEW IDEAS.

  By “ideas” he either means about Mr. and Mrs. Strangler or he’s already sidetracked with something else. Adam needs to learn the importance of patience.

  CAN’T, I HAVE TO WOR
K, I tell him.

  OKAY, SEE YOU LATER.

  He’s got too much time on his hands.

  I click off of text messaging and over to a browser to look up the number of the hospital. When I find it, I dial and it takes a minute or so to make it through the automated voice system. Finally, an operator answers.

  “Hi,” I say in my most friendly voice. “I’m calling for Nurse Garner. She works in the surgical ward.”

  “Hold please.”

  Muzak comes on and I don’t stop staring at her car while I wait. Maybe her car was having problems and she took an Uber home. Or maybe a friend took her home. Or maybe I’m right and she’s in there right now working an extra shift. I’m trying really hard not be paranoid and suspicious, but if she’s not here, then something’s going on.

  No, Adam wouldn’t do something to Mrs. Garner. Not without me.

  The operator comes back on. “I’m sorry, she’s not here. May I take a message?”

  I don’t bother saying no and instead click off. Okay, let’s say Adam did do something. Where would he have put her bo—?

  No.

  No-no-no.

  I head straight to Patch and Paw, and I’m out of my Jeep before it’s fully turned off. On these afternoon shifts, I typically go straight in the front door, but today I go around the back—the same way I came in with Adam when we disposed of Ted’s body.

  I come to a stop at the security pad and I remember that night. Adam was standing right beside me. He could’ve easily seen me punch in the code. I stare at the pad and the area around it, but nothing seems odd.

  Quickly, I type in my code and I walk right in the back door.

  “Hey, Lane,” Dr. O’Neal greets me, her usual grin in place.

  I give her a slight nod of acknowledgment and head straight to the incinerator room. As usual, it’s empty and I flip the latch on the crematorium and open the door. A light automatically comes on and illuminates gray ashes and bone fragments, all of which weren’t here yesterday.

  Putting on gloves, I take the broom and sweep it out, saving a few of the bone fragments. After I put the ashes into a box, I take one of the bones and disappear into the lab. One of the techs stands over to the right, testing several vials of blood.

  I don’t think twice about stepping up to a microscope and sliding a chunk of bone underneath.

  “What do you have there?” The tech asks.

  “Just something I found in my yard.” I dial the knobs to my specification and give the bone a good study. Animal bones have a brick like structure and human bones have more of a ring-like structure, like a tree trunk.

  I zoom in, rotating the bone, and sure enough, it’s human. Adam did it, he really did it, and I taught him how.

  49

  AFTER MY PATCH and Paw shift, I go straight to Adam’s house and ring his bell. His mom answers, and she barely acknowledges me as she turns away, waving her hand up the stairs. “He’s in his room. You can go on up.”

  This woman put up with an alcoholic, abusive husband. She now knows her oldest son, Scott, was sexing it up with minors and is connected to Ted Lowman, who everyone thinks is The Strangler. What would she think if she knew what Adam was up to? It’d either send her over the edge or retract her further into herself.

  I only really know this woman, the D.A., through the media and the things Adam has told me. Somehow, though, I find myself liking her. She’s a hard ass with good intentions. My kind of person. Though to my knowledge, she still has not handed over the sex tapes to the investigative team. She doesn’t lose points in my eyes for that. She’s banking on finding Ted without exposing Scott’s connection to him.

  I get it. I do. I’ve buried more than one secret about my family.

  “You made a bad decision.” This is what I say to Adam the minute I walk through his bedroom door. I like to get right to the point, and he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

  He swivels away from his computer to look at me. “No, you are the one making ridiculous decisions.”

  Well, at least he didn’t deny anything. I close his bedroom door. “Excuse me?”

  Adam folds his arms. “Waiting weeks to make a move. Following them. Waiting. What’s up with that? I didn’t tell you what I had in mind because I knew you wouldn’t approve.”

  “You’re damn right I don’t approve. You got rid of her because you wanted to. You wanted to see what it was like. That’s what drove your actions.”

  Adam lifts his chin. “I was serving up justice.”

  “Oh, bullshit.”

  With a sigh, Adam turns back to his computer. “I thought we didn’t have to pretend with each other.”

  I thought so, too.

  He click-click-clicks with his mouse, closing out of (surprisingly) a website about celebrities. Adam doesn’t strike me as the type to really care about that type of thing. “Okay,” he says, “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to ruin the trust between us.”

  I stay standing behind him, staring down at the crown of his dark curly hair. Despite what he did, I’m trying really hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. To understand. But he crossed a line, and I feel like a lesson should be in order.

  Adam turns off his monitor and spins back to look up at me. “Listen, you know I killed Ted. You know I killed my dad. And now I’ve killed Mrs. Garner. You know a lot about me that can hurt me. I’ve trusted you with all of that information. This friendship with you is important to me. What do I need to do to prove that?”

  “A little remorse might be nice.”

  Adam folds his arms again. “Why? You would know I don’t mean it. I’m not sorry I killed Mrs. Garner. I didn’t leave any evidence. I was careful.”

  “Yeah, so careful you left bones in the crematorium. You’re lucky I found those bones. Anybody else could have and would have known something was up. We know every animal we cremate. You’re talking about experts in the field that can look at a bone and know it’s human and not animal. What don’t you get about that?”

  Adam smiles. Smiles. “But you cleaned it up, so all is good.”

  “You won’t feel so ‘good’ if you get caught.”

  His smile falls away. “We live in a big area. The cops will think she’s been taken. Or she ran off with a lover. I’m not worried about it. Her disappearance will blend in with everything else that’s wrong.” Adam pushes up out of his chair. “Listen, this is the nature of friendship. Sometimes we’re going to agree and other times not.”

  He’s sounding a lot like Victor saying that.

  Adam crosses the expanse of his room and opens his door. “I’ve got stuff I want to do. I’ll see you later.”

  Adam thinks he’s got things figured out. He thinks he’s untouchable. How wrong he is. A lesson is definitely in order.

  50

  I’VE SPENT MY life with a wall around me, letting very few people in. I won’t say all, but many of the people I have let in have disappointed me. Like Adam currently is. Tough love. Isn’t that part of being a good friend? Yes, yes it is.

  This is what I tell myself as I take the box containing Mrs. Garner’s ashes and bones, divide them between two containers, and seal them both up.

  I spend the entire night going back and forth on what to do with them. If I give the contents to the cops, then they’ll raid Mr. Strangler’s condominium, find his Fifty Shades trunk, watch the videos, and he will officially replace Ted as the number one suspect in the strangler case.

  All neat and tidy.

  If, however, I give the remains to Mr. Strangler, then I get to watch what he does. He’ll either hand the evidence over to the cops, or he’ll dispose of it and begin weaving a tale as to where his wife went.

  There is a very small chance this man is not The Strangler, and if he is innocent of killing those girls, then he’ll hand the ashes over. Which means I’m back to square one in my search for the real Strangler, and Adam took out an innocent woman. Unless Mrs. Garner was the sole strangl
er, and the mister had nothing to do with the final act.

  Either way, if that’s the route Mr. Garner goes, then he would be smart to clear his condo of that trunk under his bed. Surely he knows that would raise major flags.

  But then that gets me to thinking that might be a smart move. Handing the ashes over and clearing his condo of that hidden trunk will make him look innocent, and then he can continue on with his strangling ways.

  It’s like a game of chess and this is what I love most—waiting to see what someone will do.

  I’m possibly giving up The Strangler in doing this, but a lesson to Adam seems more important right now.

  Which is why I ultimately decide to deliver two boxes: one to Mr. Strangler and the other to the cops.

  First stop, Mr. Strangler.

  51

  “I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” a fellow nurse cries into the camera. “She was such a good person. Who would do this? They’re saying the killer was a pro. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would a pro-killer go after Mrs. Garner?”

  Pro-killer? That’s a new term.

  The camera switches to her condo building and the cops going in and out. Mr. Garner is nowhere to be seen, but I know he disposed of the sex toy trunk. I watched him.

  I decided to deliver his present first and twelve hours later I delivered the next present to the cops. But in those twelve hours, Mr. Strangler disposed of the evidence. I followed him all the way to a landfill located a county over where he dumped the trunk, then I followed him to a local precinct where he walked right in with the box of ashes and bones under his arm.

  Of course, the cops received a similar box of ashes hours after that, but I did want to see how Mr. Strangler would handle everything. Now, of course, there’s a new killer on the loose. So much for the strangled girls, now there’s someone running around burning people.

  Oh, what trouble I stir up.