“ENOUGH!” Stacy wailed. “I said enough, please! Please, God!” Snot leaking and tears falling, the woman buried her face in her meaty palms.
Anna looked at her, silently, with hollow eyes ringed with tired circles. Her hand rested on the folder still fat with photos. “The pictures go away when you start talking.”
Eyes and face blood red and runny, Stacy glared at Anna. “You’re an evil woman.”
Anna’s face remained cold and emotionless. She clicked the pen’s top and opened the notebook to a new page, waiting for the confession. “Start from the beginning.”
Stacy wiped her face down with the palms of her tiny hands and snorted dangling snot back into her nostril. “I don’t go to bars, I’m just not that type of gal…”
“… hell, I could count the number of times I drank alcohol on one hand and still be two fingers short.”
Millions of stars speckled the sky above the roadside biker bar. It was a small dive with cheap booze, cheaper furnishings, and loud music that pounded your head like a jackhammer. Dozens of motorcycles, choppers, and rusty and battered sedans occupied the gravel parking lot while semi-trucks screamed by the wet, black highway. The first thing Stacy Tipton noticed when she stepped out of the car was the large neon sign of a pig with a comically angry expression. Its red letters blinked like a faulty taillight and the text read “Hangry Porker’s.”
When Stacy was in her twenties that would’ve offended her, but she was forty-four now and comfortable with her figure. What remained to be seen was if her date would share the same confidence. More men than she thought did, but the ones she found, she wouldn’t call handsome. Though it might have been a double standard. Stacy, being raised in the church, had hopes that there was a good man out there worth saving herself for. Was he in the Hangry Porker? Stacy cringed but marched across the gravel parking lot anyway. She could hear rock-and-roll, hearty laughter, and obscene language long before she reached the double doors. A drunken middle-aged woman with a cut-off shirt staggered out of the bar. Tattoos painted her arms and belly with symbols, dates, nude silhouettes, and Scripture. A hairy bull-like man in a leather jacket followed behind, laughing with her and stinking of BO and cigarettes. Stacy gave them space and, like most people, they didn’t pay her mind.
The couple mounted a Harley and revved it up.
“Um, excuse me…” Stacy said as the drunks chuckled and sped down wet asphalt. Fear and guilt clenched her lungs. With an outstretched arm, she supported herself on the side of the bar and struggled for breath. I should’ve warned them not to ride drunk. They’re going to die. You’re a bad woman, Stacy. A very bad... The smell of vomit slithered up her nostrils and caused her to gag. She looked down at the patty of chucky bile at her feet and nearly threw up herself. With a hurried wobble, she distanced herself from the mess and turned her gaze up the bar. The rectangular building seemed so much larger and intimidating than she’d originally noticed. Her Volkswagen Beetle wasn’t more than fifty feet away and tempted her greatly. Teeth chattering, she approached the double doors and pushed against them.
It was a whole new world. Smoky haze hung in the air and smelled of sweat, beer, puke, tobacco, and more nasty things. A half dozen patrons gathered around every table or swarmed each booth. They wore leather and jeans, shirts with naked ladies and big cars, hats with rebel flags, and jackets with skull patches. Two gnarly women kissed one another while a lanky, seedy-looking fellow collected money from his friends. A man with huge muscles guarded the jukebox while a woman an inch over five feet tall danced to the rock-and-roll like no one was watching. Likes hogs at a slop trough, sweaty men and rough ladies hunched over the bar.
The smell, the noise, the haze, all of it made Stacy dizzy and her heart rattle. A terrifying man with a square head and broken nose pushed past her, nearly causing Stacy to fall, and walked on without offering the slightest gaze or apology. Rubbing her shoulder, Stacy frowned. She wore a loose turquoise blouse and black slacks that did not match the attire of the other patrons and instantly regretted not further researching the address or the bar’s name.
With tiny steps, she approached the bar and looked for her contact. She saw patrons order all sorts of different drinks, light and dark, and felt her breath quicken. The haze hung thick behind her and without the exit sign, she wouldn’t be able to see the front door.
“Stacy!” A familiar voice called. “Stacy, get over here, girl!”
Over the noise, Stacy followed the voice to a tall, skinny man a few seats down. He was dressed in a simple t-shirt with jeans and camouflage boots. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes grey, but overall his face was handsome, and the graying ponytail running down his back gave him a rural, rebellious look.
“Hey, Ed.” Stacy greeted him politely, but he didn’t hear her.
“I was afraid you wasn’t gonna show!” Edger Strife usually had a soft voice but when he got drunk, the man could yell. Stacy and him were cousins so she was used to his antics by now, and even though he was affiliated with some-less-than savory groups, they were blood and blood looked out for one another. “This is the guy I wanted you to meet.”
Edger gestured to the man next to him who wore a button up shirt, classy pants, and leather shoes. He turned to Stacy and gave a smile that made her blush.
“Will.” He extended a hand.
Stacy shook it and immediately realized how sweaty her palms were compared to the stranger’s soft, warm hands.
“Stacy, ” she replied.
“I hope she ain’t too old for you, buddy.” Edger chuckled and punched Will in the shoulder.
Will didn’t take his eyes off Stacy. “No, she’s perfect.”
His voice was silk to Stacy’s ears, and she could tell her face was turning cherry red.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” Edger announced and swiveled out his seat. He grabbed his beer. Waving goodbye and chuckling, he vanished in the haze.
“Please,” Will gestured to the now-vacant seat beside him.
Stacy bowed her head and lifted herself onto the stool. Her whole body shook, but it wasn’t because of the wobbly seat.
“I’ll admit, Edger hasn’t said much about you,” Will said with a small grin. His face looked like any other but was soft and blemish free. Behind his square-framed glasses with a dark finish, his eyes were curious and inviting in a way that made butterflies flutter in Stacy’s belly.
“The whole situation caught me off guard, too.” Stacy said and brushed her hair behind her ear. “I’ve not been on many blind dates.”
“Exciting, huh?” Will said, looking her in the eyes.
Stacy blushed again and nodded. I really need to stop doing that. Blushing.
“What do you, uh, do for a living?” Stacy asked, trying to fill the empty air.
Will shrugged. “A little of everything.”
“Mysterious,” Stacy joked.
Will didn’t laugh, only grinned slightly and looked at the suds at the bottom of his glass.
“Real estate,” he eventually admitted. “There’s a market for buying and selling properties anonymously and cheap, especially in the Midwest. I provide the necessary means to do so. It’s a great way to stimulate the economy without giving money to the government.”
“Where did you learn to do that?”
“My foster father taught me the business. My real dad died when I was eight,” Will let that statement sit for a second before he asked, “You thirsty?”
Not sure what else to do, Stacy nodded.
“We talked the whole night,” Stacy said, remembering. “Him more than me, but I liked hearing about his life, and he was glad to have someone listen.”
Anna packed away the Missing Persons printouts in front of Stacy, but left out the horrific pictures of Keisha and Lily.
“After the second date,” Stacy continued, her cheeks puffy from tears that had stopped falling, “we met on a week-to-week basis. He took me to the finest restaurants, invited me to his vacation home in th
e woods, bought me clothes, and told me how beautiful I looked every morning and every evening. I don’t know why it took me two mouths to realize the type of stupid money he was making. I was too lovestruck to care. He told me to quit my job one day, and I did it without question. In return, he bought me a house and put it in my name. In his eyes, I was a queen--”
“When did you find out?” Anna interrupted as she jotted on the notepad.
Stacy glared at her. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”
“I care about all the missing girls he’s captured and killed.” Anna locked tired eyes with the woman. “I want to know when you learned what he truly was.”
Stacy went quiet and slouched back in her seat. She sighed and continued. “I was on my way back from the mall when I noticed his front door ajar…”
Birds chirped and leaves rustled. The picturesque cabin fit perfectly amidst the oaks that carpeted the Ozark mountains like fluffy green spears. Stacy couldn’t help but chuckle at the sounds, sights, and sappy smells of nature. To say it was a juxtaposition from where she met Will three years, four months, and seventeen days ago would be the biggest understatement of the century.
Stacy brushed her fingers across her pristine jade necklace as she hiked up the inclined road. The kiss of the cold stone made her wish she had a wedding ring, but Will forbid it.
“Married men don’t last long in my line of work,” Will explained, kindly but firm, and Stacy never asked the question again. He’ll change his mind, she thought optimistically. I’ll be with him until he does.
As she neared the cabin, Stacy noticed something amiss. Will’s car was parked at an odd angle and black smoke pumped out of its exhaust. Slowly, she approached the vehicle. There was no one inside. Confused, Stacy opened the door and extracted the keys. The car shut off. Using the handrail as support, Stacy heaved herself up the stairs and froze. Wind chimes clamored together. The encased porch light functioned not. The cabin’s front door was open six inches.
“Will?” Stacy called out.
Thump. A noise from within.
The hairs rose on Stacy’s arms. She pushed open the door. Creeeeeeak. With tiny, careful steps, she entered the cabin. The lights were off and something inside told Stacy not to turn them on. Dishes were still in the sink. Groceries had yet to be unloaded.
Thump!
Stacy felt her heart race and suddenly she found herself short of breath. She sucked up her fears and turned into the hallway. The door to the master bedroom was wide open.
Thump! Followed by indistinct mumbling.
Rubbing her palms together nervously, Stacy walked closer. A thousand fears cut through her head and into her heart. Another woman was the strongest of them. She shook out the thought. Will could have any woman he wanted as long as she was first. The thought hurt, but that’s what she’d tell him. Please don’t let it be true.
Hiding by the threshold, Stacy spied on her man pulling on the closet door with both hands. His hair was disheveled and his glasses lopsided. A damp handkerchief hung up out of his back pocket.
“Open up,” he said with a playful grin and slammed his shoulder against the oaken door with a thump.
“Will?”
The man swiftly turned to Stacy standing in the doorway, surprised by her presence. Will’s smile faded. “What are you doing here, Stacy? You weren’t supposed to be home for another few hours.”
“I finished early,” she said whimsically and unblinking. Her hands involuntarily caressed the heavy jade necklace. “What’s in the closet, darling?”
Will moved his lips as he searched for words. His hands stayed on the knob. His face appeared calm but his knuckles were bone white. “My niece. She hid in the closet and I’m trying to get her out.”
“You said that your only sister died,” Stacy remembered the story. How could she not, when Will told her that his sister had been destined to be a master clarinetist until she was found strangled in the woods. Will had flexed his hands as he told her that a year ago.
Just then, a darkness overtook her kind, soft-spoken lover. The look that made her feel priceless had changed to black anger at the drop of the dime. “Go wait in the hallway and do not move until I say so. Do I make myself clear?”
“I have the right to know what’s going on,” Stacy replied.
She thought then that Will would kill her. The cord of muscles on his forearm tightened as he gripped the doorknob tighter. “Wait. In. The. Hall.”
Without another word, Stacy turned back and exited into the hallway. Part of her thought of climbing into the car and driving away, but then she remembered all of the gifts Will had given her. She sat down on the floor and waited.
Thump! Bam! She heard the closet door sling open. A girl screamed but was quickly muted. Heels smashed and knocked against the wood floor rapidly. There was a rustling of fabric. Stacy’s heart pounded. Tears trickled down her plump cheeks, but she didn’t say a word and she didn’t move from her spot.
Eyes cast on the floor, Stacy saw Will’s boot and the tail end of a wrapped bedsheet dragging across the wood as her lover exited the room. He halted. Stacy felt his eyes on her like laser. When she didn’t look back at him, he stomped through the hall and stopped again.
“Keys,” he commanded.
Trembling, Stacy pulled the car keys from her purse and slid them across the floor. They jiggled as Will retrieve them. Stacy never looked up from her lap. She heard the front door slam and then the car’s trunk. Will returned inside.
“Get up.”
Staggering, Stacy heaved herself to her feet and followed Will to the kitchen.
“Look at me.”
Stacy hesitantly turned her gaze up to her lover. A fingernail scratch had peeled back a line of skin on his cheek in the same way Stacy had done to her sister Tara back in elementary school. The darkness in Will’s eyes was gone. He smiled sweetly at her and stood next to the knife rack on the counter.
“I love you,” Stacy said, crying. Her whole body trembled.
“What did you see, Stacy? I want the truth.” He rested his bottom against the counter. His fingers gripped the edge.
“Nothing,” she blurted out quicker than she could think it. “I didn’t see anything because… because I was at the mall.”
“That’s right. You were.”
Stacy couldn’t control the shaking any longer. Her legs felt weak and almost gave out when Will caught her. He was so much stronger than he looked.
“I love you.” He whispered in her ear as his arms wrapped around her. “No one will ever replace you. You believe me, don’t you?”
“I do,” Stacy sniffled. “If you needed to tell me something, you would. That’s what you always say, ain’t it?”
“I want to tell you everything,” Will replied with a solemn sadness to his voice. “But I can’t. I’m not ready.”
When Stacy got her footing, Will kept his hands around her wide back and looked her in the eyes the way he did the first time they solidified their relationship. “I might ask you to do things that we can’t talk about. Will you? Will you do them for me?”
With runny tears and a runny nose, Stacy nodded. “Yes.”
Stacy studied her stubby fingers as she spoke. Her lip twitched slightly. “I didn’t ask him questions after that. He’d ask me to drive somewhere and leave the car, I’d do it. He’d ask me to follow a girl. I’d do it. The unspoken agreement was that he kept me from the nasty business and we stay lovers. After a while, I learned that it wasn’t his true name, but I never brought it up. It’s just a name after all.”
“And Keisha Rines?” Anna asked.
“Yes… her,” Stacy frowned. “Will told me to talk to the parents while he… while he took the girl. Will you put away the pictures now?”
Anna swept the horrific images into the folder. She made sure no edges were sticking out and closed the flap. “Are you hiding Cain--Will--now?”
Stacy sighed. “I ain’t seen him since the news blast
ed his face all over. The last thing he told me was to use the boat if the cops came. Will’s not a bad man. He has an addiction and he fights it every day. He’s constantly reading philosophies and holy text in search of a cure. I know you’ve seen them.”
Anna didn’t have anything to say to that. “Did he say where he would go if anything like this ever happened?”
Stacy hesitated and grinded her teeth. “There’s a document hidden in my mattress. It has a list of addresses of different properties he’s sold. A sort of reminder of his successes. He might be hiding out in one of those.”
Anna shot a glance back at the tinted glass behind her in the place where she imagined Agent Rennard to be standing.
“How many are on the list?” she asked Stacy.
The older, plump woman shrugged. “Fifty. A hundred.” She smiled smugly. “Once he knows you have me, he’ll skip town and you’ll never find him.”
“Let’s hope not.” Anna handed the confession paper and pen to Stacy. “Or you’ll have more blood on your hands.”
And the woman looked like she was going to cry again.
8
Crescendo
Anna didn’t know what to expect when she entered Stacy Tipton’s home. The welcoming smell of lemon and lime greeted Anna like a long-lost lover and, as Anna stepped farther into the living room, she noticed handcrafted furnishings, a shelf loaded with hundreds of one-of-kind cat ornaments, and pricey paintings hanging on the recently painted walls. In contrast to the house’s bland suburban exterior, there was a subtle wealth to every object within. Small wonder Stacy loved the man.
“Brilliant facadé,” Rennard said as he slid on his plastic gloves. “I’ll give him that. Keeps the lady happy without raising too many brows.”
Other local investigators spread out among the perimeter, branching off into the kitchen, guest bedroom, bathrooms, and closets while others snapped countless photos of odd ball baubles and pictures of Stacy that rested on the counter tops and side tables. After, they popped open the back of the frame in search of a secret message from Cain.
Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection Page 62
