Scott Maxwell ordered a rum and coke from the bartender. His older brother had once again shown his ass. Robert promised Scott tonight would be different. This was, after all, the only twenty-first birthday Scott would ever have. After the big two one, a birthday simply marks the passage of time, as one inches closer to the grave…
Scott spent way too much money on new clothes today; purchasing a white sweater, a black turtleneck and a new pair of Tommy jeans to celebrate. He had shorn his shoulder length, dark brown hair military-style short to show how serious he was about “officially” becoming an adult. He’d even grown a goatee although it hadn’t completely filled in. Scott had always been “wise beyond his years” as his mother used to tell him, but no one really took him seriously because he was still officially “a kid”. The biggest point of contention? There were actually two, the first being Scott’s career plans.
“I think I’m gonna study Photography at Hughes Hill College,” he told Robert after his graduation from Hughes Hill High.
“Scotty, what the hell are you talking about?” Robert admonished, sipping from his beer bottle. “You don’t have a clue what you want. Talk to me in a couple years when you’re not so... young. You’ll change your mind. Maybe be a lawyer or something...”
“Rob, I don’t want to be a lawyer! All they do is sit around in court all day and yell at each other. I want to be outside. I want to record life. I want to capture the moments that make history. When I see a beautiful sunset, the first thing I think about is my camera. I want to capture the beauty in this world and preserve it. And I’m good at it too; my teacher says that she sees potential in me. She says...”
“Look Scotty, I don’t want to bust your bubble --- but you’re only eighteen years old. Do you really think you can make a good life for yourself by taking snapshots? It ain’t gonna happen.”
Majoring in Photojournalism at Hughes Hill, Scott earned a 4.0 grade point average for his tenacity. He was rewarded with a highly coveted internship at the Evanston Herald. He was so talented they already made him an offer to start in the fall as a Junior Photographer!
Meanwhile, Robert had simply watched. Not once did he admit that he may have been wrong. Scott hoped that his brother would finally come around. And for a long time, it seemed as if he had. But then, not long after Scott left home for the dorms, the other shoe dropped. Scott finally told Robert his big “secret”: he was gay! Bone of contention, the second…
“You’re what?”
“I’m gay.”
“Ha fucking ha!”
“Robert. I’m serious.”
“You mean, you actually think you’re a... I mean, you’re... NO! I won’t have it! No brother of mine could be... that!”
“Oh, grow up! I am a homosexual. I don’t know why you give a damn.”
“Scott, I refuse to talk about this anymore. Don’t bring this shit up again! ”
After that, the brothers rarely spoke. Months passed, and Scott saw Robert only during special family dinners and at holidays. Scott recalled had brought his new boyfriend, Todd McAllister home to meet her, Scott didn’t know what to expect. Robert was there, but said nothing. Strangely, after Todd broke it off, Robert came by to make peace. Neither of them broached the subject again.
Scott was shocked when Robert offered to take him to the Harbour, THE local gay dance club, for his twenty-first. He was thrilled, though a bit wary, of his brother’s gesture. But maybe the two of them could finally put everything behind them, if only for Mom’s sake.
Scott had always been close to his mother. Janice Maxwell was his best friend and sometimes confidant. She had served the role of both mother and father figure after Dad died. When Scott told her he was gay, she simply smiled and nodded knowingly. They talked about everything, including Todd. In fact, if not for his Mother, Scott would have gone insane when Todd left him. Scott told himself that she probably coerced Robert into this. That was the most logical explanation. She had always tried to be the peacemaker.
The brothers had agreed to meet at seven that evening in Scott’s dorm room at Hughes Hill. They would go have a nice dinner and from there they would go to the Harbour. But at six-thirty, Robert called and said that he still had one more client to meet with at Garrington’s, the advertising studio where he held the position of Senior Art Director. He suggested that Scott eat without him and take a cab to the bar. He would join him as soon as his meeting was over. Scott assumed Robert would meet him by eight-thirty or nine.
But when the clock struck nine, Scott wasn’t really surprised that his brother hadn’t yet arrived. After all, those artistic types tended to be long-winded. Todd was a painter and would go on for hours after they had made love talking about colors, shades and landscapes. As a photographer, Scott had similar feelings, but it was hardly the same passion. Only Todd himself managed to inspire such passion in him. If only he were here now.
They had been together on his last birthday. Todd had surprised Scott with a cake and dinner with both their mothers. He remembered making love to Todd that night...
“Happy Birthday, Scott,” Todd had said afterward.
“Thank you,” Scott answered. “Tonight was wonderful. I love you more now than I ever thought possible. This has been the best night of my life.”
“I love you too. And I swear to you that I will always be with you.”
“Always?”
“And forever,” Todd reached across the bed and began kissing him again...
Always and forever apparently didn’t have to same meaning to Todd as it did to anyone else.
Enough, he thought to himself. Todd was part of his past. Today was the beginning of a new chapter in his life. He’d be damned if memories would keep him from having the a new best night of his life. He excused himself from the barstool and made his way to the restroom.
Once inside, he looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. Just over a year ago, Scott had weighed 230 pounds. Now, after six months of dieting and exercise, Scott was down to an impressive 180. At 5’11”, he carried the remaining weight very well. His face was still a bit pudgy but everyone told him it was cute, especially when he smiled and his dimples showed. He felt really good about his appearance for the first time in years. He ran his fingers through his newly shorn hair, exited the bathroom and returned to the familiar barstool.
*** Morgan Cramer pulled the shudders of his two-story townhouse apartment closed. He loved the night. It was a magical time for him, a time when anything could happen. Morgan always wrote his best material while surrounded by the unyielding darkness, with only a dim glow from his desk lamp to guide him.
Morgan switched his computer on and lit a cigarette as he waited for it to boot up. Tonight, he would begin his great masterpiece. He inhaled deeply, and blew the smoke out as he placed the cigarette in the glass ashtray next to his CPU. Staring at the screen intently, he decided to check his e-mail. He placed the cursor over the familiar icon of United Online and double-clicked the mouse.
Once the painfully long process of connecting to United Online was completed, Morgan immediately went to check his mail. No new messages. Dejected, he decided to check out the chat rooms. He found “Evanston M4M” and waited anxiously.
Morgan had been a member of United Online for a little over six months. He had been surprised that the sleepy little town of Evanston had enough homosexuals to support a M4M, or male for male, chat room. But he had made several friends and even a handful of sexual partners in the short time he had been a member.
As he went into the room, he searched the list of “names” of people that were currently logged on. His best friend, Ryan, was online. Ryan used the nickname “Rye101.” . Morgan’s was “WriteStuff”. Morgan quickly sent Ryan a Quick Message...
“Hey! What’s up?” he typed. As he waited for a response, he berated himself for being on-line when he should be writing.
“Not much.” The screen lit up. “It’s been pretty slow in here tonight.” Morgan smiled. That meant that no one had tried to pick Ryan up yet. He wouldn’t know what to do if he couldn’t be on the prowl for meaningless sexual encounters. Not that Morgan was a prude. He had more that his share of one night stands. But Ryan lived for them. Morgan sometimes thought his buddy was actually addicted to sex...
Before Morgan could respond, he received another message from Ryan.
“Maybe I spoke too soon about nothing going on. Check out ‘Number 1’ in the main room.”
Morgan looked at the main chat room and let out a slight gasp. Number 1 was addressing the whole room...
“SOON YOU WILL ALL COME TO KNOW ME. All of your will feel my deadly touch. But for tonight, I will choose 1. He will be the first, my CHOSEN ONES.”
Underneath Number 1’s announcement, came a flurry of jokes and quick responses. Everyone in the room was treating it as a joke. But he did manage to get things going. Morgan didn’t think it was funny at all. Something felt very wrong. He sent another message to Ryan.
“What’s up with this Number 1?,” Morgan typed.
“I don’t know but I think he’s kinda sexy.” Ryan quickly responded. “You know I like those dangerous types.”
Figures.
Deciding that he wasn’t in the mood to talk any longer, Morgan quickly said his good-byes, saving the conversation onto his hard drive as he always did, and logged off the service. He tried unsuccessfully to start working on his book, but after a few failed attempts, decided that his heart just wasn’t in it. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling inside. Something just wasn’t right. Morgan turned on the television anticipating a night of cold pizza and bad television. No matter what he did though, his thoughts returned to Number 1...
Suddenly the night didn’t seem all that safe. ***
[ January 11, 2004, 01:53 PM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Scott looked around the Harbour. He was amazed at the care taken in the interior of the bar. In the center of the large room was an enormous dance floor that was barren, considering the early hour. He could only imagine how exciting it must be when the room is full of men moving around each other to the beat of whatever popular song was playing. He couldn’t wait to get out there and dance the night away.
The Harbour was fairly typical of the teenage clubs he had gone to with the obvious exception of alcohol . There were two bars at opposite ends of the large room, a wall of television sets displaying the Video of “Me Against the Music” by Brittney Spears, and advertisements on the walls for upcoming events. There was a concert that Scott wanted to attend in January.
There weren’t a lot of people in the club, due to the early hour. In a way, Scott felt he had the whole place to himself. Happy Birthday, he thought...
One hour and three rum and cokes later, Scott began to doubt that Robert would show. He was vaguely aware that his current favorite song, “Love Profusion” by Madonna had come on. Deep down, he knew that Robert wouldn’t let him down. He was probably just dawdling because he really didn’t want to go to a gay bar. The one time Robert actually bothered to talk to Scotty about it, Robert had said he didn’t understand why Scott had chosen to be gay. Scott tried to convince him that being gay wasn’t something he had any say in. It was like having blue eyes or blonde hair. Sure, you could wear tinted contacts or hair dye, but underneath it all the true colors were still there. He tried to make Robert understand that he couldn’t turn his feelings off on a whim. Robert changed the subject. Hopefully, someday Robert would get it.
Looking around again, Scott eyed the bartender dancing around the bar while getting drinks for a couple of guys who sat across the bar. He smiled, amused at the bartenders’ antics, and motioned for another drink as soon as he was finished with his new customers. Finally, the bartender returned to Scott. He smiled warmly.
“Are you sure you want another one? I mean, I know it’s your birthday and all, but you’re guzzling these things like water,” the bartender said his voice tinted with concern. He had long dark hair, almost ebony, and green eyes. He was a little chubby, but Scott thought that made him look better, more... real.
“I’m fine, uh...” he realized that he didn’t know the bartender’s name.
“The name’s Marcus,” he replied, “and I won’t harp on you any more. Unless you get out of hand, of course. After all, I’m not your mother.”
“No, you aren’t. But I do appreciate the concern. By the way, my name’s Scott.”
“Nice to meet you, Scott,” Marcus said as he handed Scott his drink. “Enjoy.”
Scott felt the alcohol clouding his thoughts. He noticed Marcus watching him and smiled reassuringly. He wasn’t nearly as confident as he hoped he looked. He felt very wobbly. Looking at Marcus reminded Scott of Todd. They had similar features, although Todd had been much trimmer that the pudgy bartender.
“Bartender’s a nice guy,” came a voice from behind. Scott turned around, expecting to see Robert but was instead faced with a complete stranger. The stranger mesmerized Scott with his blonde hair and pale, almost ghostlike features. He couldn’t help but stare. What a beautiful man he was!
“Yeah, he seems to be,” Scott answered. What a well though out response, Scott chided himself. Might as well have said, “I’m an idiot.” Something about this guy was making him very nervous. Or maybe it was the alcohol? No, it was definitely the stranger...
“He’s very protective of his customers, though. Especially the good-looking younger ones like yourself.”
“I see.” Scott face felt hot. The stranger thought he was good looking! He wondered what he should do next. Should he buy the man a drink and flirt shamelessly? Should he sit demurely and wait for the dark stranger to make a move? Should he walk away from this before things went too far? What next?
“I mean, you can tell the bartender likes you, right? You had to have noticed the way he looks at you.” The dark man inched closer, never taking his eyes off Scott.
“Yeah, I guess I did.” He lied. Scott really hadn’t paid that much attention and really didn’t care at this point. He felt so good! He stared down at his drink as the song changed to another he didn’t recognize. He looked up and saw that Marcus and the stranger were both staring at him from different angles. He felt a sudden chill. What was that old phrase Momma used to use? Something about walking over my grave?
Marcus lingered a couple seconds more before returning to greet a couple of new arrivals. Scott downed the last of his drink, slamming the glass so hard against the bar he thought it might break. The stranger took the seat next to Scott’s and ordered a draft beer. The silence between them was becoming more uncomfortable with every passing second. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, “I didn’t catch your name. Mine’s Scott.” He put out his hand.
“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to be so rude. My name’s Janus.” He took Scott’s hand and shook it, holding it a few seconds longer than necessary. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in here before.”
“I’ve ah, I’ve been out of town for a while.” Scott lied, not wanting the stranger to know his age.
“Really, then welcome back. Y’know, I really like this song. Would you care to dance with me?”
“Sure, I guess so, but...” Scott remembered that Robert was supposed to be there soon. He decided against telling Janus about his older brother. It might scare him off. Who wants to date someone whose older brother has to come to the bar and “baby-sit” him? He stood up, wobbling as the alcohol took effect. His feet almost gave way beneath him. Janus held him up, steadying him. After a few seconds, the dizziness subsided and Scott allowed Janus to lead him to the dance floor.
By now, there were several people on the floor moving to the heavy, driving beat. The music surrounded Scott. The lights were flashing and they enhanced his buzz. He began to move to the heavy bass line of the song. Everything vanished for Scott except Janus and the music. When Janus placed his arms around Scott’s waist, he could barely contain his excitement. They drew closer and closer as they moved as one to the beat. Scott couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive. Not even when he was with Todd.
After he danced so long he could barely stand, Scott led Janus back toward the bar. How long had they been dancing? It felt like hours. “That was great,” he gushed. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “I didn’t realize how hot it was in here.”
“Getting crowded, too.” Janus agreed, putting his arm around Scott. “Do you have somewhere... more private we could go?”
“Uhhh, I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” He smiled briefly, flashing his pearly whites, then raced to the bathroom. He made his way to one of the toilet stalls and felt his stomach erupt in a violent frenzy. He gagged as the taste of the alcohol returned to his dry mouth. This agonizing process continued for several seconds until Scott was sure that his stomach was now completely empty of any matter whatsoever. He flushed the toilet and returned to the mirror he looked into so proudly earlier.
He was anything but proud of himself now, as he stared at himself. His hair and clothes were disheveled and his eyes bloodshot. His insides felt raw and empty and his head was fuzzy. Why would anyone want to do this to himself? And now, a complete stranger named Janus wants to go home with me. What a mess. If only Robert had been here when he was supposed to be.
He washed his face and wetted down his hair until he thought he looked somewhat presentable. But now what? He had to go out there and give Janus an answer. He thought about sneaking out of the bar and just going home, but how would he get there? Robert was his ride...
Dammit, where was Robert?
Scott looked up at the mirror and gasped. He saw Todd standing behind him! What the hell was he doing here? For a moment, his memories hit him hard. He remembered every kiss, every touch... everything. All the times they shared seemed like yesterday. He forgot about the fights and misunderstandings. Todd was here! Everything was going to be OK! He smiled, and turned around to face him.
He turned around and no one was there. The alcohol must be playing tricks on me, he thought. Anyway, there was no way Todd could be there. He had always hated bars: there was no way he’d be at the Harbour. And anyway, who cares. Janus was there and he was ready to go...
Scott returned to the barstool and placed his arm around Janus. Janus was smoking a cigarette and offered Scott one. He accepted and Janus lit it for him. Scott took a deep drag and blew the smoke quickly from his nose. “So, are you ready to go?” he asked.
“You mean you want to?”
“Sure. Why not? My dorm room’s empty and the campus over at Hughes Hill is practically bare this weekend.” He took another drag off the cigarette. He noticed that Marcus was studying them from across the bar. He smiled at the bartender and returned his attention to Janus. He was going to have fun...
“Are you sure about this?” Janus asked, his eyes piercing through Scott’s very being. He looked so gentle, so caring. But at the same time, there was something dark boiling below the surface. It was the darkness that Scott wanted to access.
“I’m sure. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Lead on.” Janus left a couple dollar bills on the bar. Scott hadn’t even thought about a tip but was relieved and even touched somehow that Janus took care of it for them.
[ December 06, 2003, 02:47 PM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
The drive to campus was filled mostly with silence. Scott turned on the radio so that neither one of them would feel they had to say something. The campus was only ten minutes away by car so the drive was mercifully short. Reality had once again set in for Scott since they had left the bar. After all, picking up a strange man in a bar wasn’t the safest thing to do these days. And what the hell kind of name was Janus anyway?
When they arrived at campus, Scott directed Janus to park in the visitor’s lot and led him to his dorm room in Moreland Hall. As they walked into his room, there was a faint scent of cologne hanging in the air. Scott took off his shirt and motioned for Janus to sit on his bed. Scott sat beside Janus and placed his hand on his leg. God, it felt so good to be touched by a man again.
“They say a girl committed suicide that lived in this room last year. No girl wanted to live in here after that, so they made this the men’s floor. Actually, hardly any guys want to live here either. Which is why I have no roommate. I think it adds a bit of mystery to the room.”
“I see. Tell me, how did she die?” If Scott didn’t know better, he would swear that Janus’ eyes lit up at the mention of the word ‘suicide’. But then, he really didn’t know better, did he? Who was this guy?
“I - I’m not really sure. I think she took an overdose of pills or something. Other than that, I don’t have many details. I lived across campus then.”
“All right,” Janus said, seemingly agitated. The features of his face seemed to contort to an almost frightening visage. But then, as quickly as the look came over Janus, it vanished. He smiled and pulled Scott closer. “Have I told you that you look really hot tonight?”
“Thank you,” Scott replied, blushing again. “I did dress up a little. Today’s my birthday.”
“Why didn’t you say something before? Happy Birthday. I guess that means I should give you a present.” Janus reached over and pulled Scott into a kiss. It was a long and lingering kiss. Scott could feel the warmth from Janus’ probing tongue. Soon, Janus and was massaging his chest and roughly pinching his nipples. Scott’s hard-on became all too noticeable as it bulged against his jeans. Janus noticed too and smiled as he unbuttoned Scott’s button-flys and roughly tore the jeans to Scott’s ankles. Janus knelt to meet the erection and Scott tumbled into a world of both fear and ecstasy. The moist warmth of Janus’ mouth caressing his hard-on made Scott writhe in ecstasy. His muscles tensed as he slowly inched toward the all-important climactic moment. Finally, after he could stand it no longer, Scott came. Todd had never made him feel like this!. The danger of it all added to the pleasure.
“Thank you so much,” Scott told Janus as soon as he caught his breath. “You have done more for me than you will ever know. Would you like me to return the favor?”
“No. I get my pleasure in other ways.”
“What do you mean?” He asked, surprised. He had just had sex with a complete stranger. The only thing he knew was his name. And what the hell kind of stupid name was Janus, anyway? Scott shuddered as he saw Janus undoing the buckle on his pants. Realization dawned on him. A sick feeling came over him. “Oh, I don’t think we should do that. I mean, we don’t know each other that well and...”
Suddenly, Janus was on top of him, forcing him to the floor. He hit his head on the bedpost as he fell. He felt a sharp pain as Janus entered him and his world went black...
***
Janice Maxwell knocked on her son’s door. She had a large bag in one arm and a set of keys in the other. It was so sweet of Robert to take Scotty out tonight, she thought. And while they were gone, she would decorate Scotty’s room! Wouldn’t he be surprised? When no one answered, she smiled and turned the doorknob. That’s strange, she thought. Why didn’t he lock it? He must’ve been excited about going out. She opened the door and walked in. She could still smell Scott’s cologne in the air but there was another scent as well. Something she had smelled before but couldn’t place her finger on where.
She walked inside, groping for the lamp. She stepped on something wet, and immediately moved her foot. Scott must have spilled a soda or something. Those kids were always making one mess or another. Like that time Scotty and Robert decided to make scrambled eggs on the sofa. Those were the days. Although raising the boys without a father was never easy, she had managed and pretty well too. Both of them came out great. She had to wonder, was the fact that Scotty didn’t have a father around the reason he turned out the way he did? No, she rebuked herself, Robert didn’t have a father either and he isn’t gay. No, it was just one of those things...
She found the lamp and turned it on. She looked to see what is was she had been stepping in and stopped. It was a very deep red, almost brown in some places. She panicked, knowing what it looked like. No, it couldn’t be THAT. It’s gotta be paint or something. She was shaking as she moved toward the bathroom, dropping the bag she had brought in with her. She turned on the light and was relieved it was empty. Thank God, she thought.
She returned to the outer room and sat on the edge of the unmade bed. She had to calm down. Scotty was at the bar with Robert. Everything was fine. It was paint or something on the floor. It had to be. Maybe Todd had come back to Scotty and did a painting. Wouldn’t that just be the best birthday present ever? She sat for a moment collecting her thoughts when she felt someone watching her.
“Mom?,” came a voice.
“Scotty?” she hoped.
“Guess again.”
“Robert?” Robert looked very similar to Scott except that he was more muscular and had darker hair. Both of her son’s were good looking and she was very proud of that. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Scotty were going out tonight?”
“Well, I was with a client and it took forever. I tried to call but I got no answer. I told him to go without me. I just dropped by here on my way to make sure....” He noticed the stain on the floor. “Mom? What the hell is that?”
“I thought it was paint or something. I don’t know.”
“That isn’t paint, mom.”
She sat there and nodded her head. She knew, deep down she had known all along. She leaned back on the bed and felt something hard against her back. Startled, she jumped into Robert arms and screamed. She turned and faced the bed. There was a hand protruding from the jumbled mess of sheets. There was something in the hand but she couldn’t make it out through the tears.
Robert removed the comforter and stood, dumbfounded. He tore off the sheets. The sight of his brother Scott’s lifeless body in a heap jolted him into a world without sense. He couldn’t hear his mother’s screams. He couldn’t feel her weeping face buried against his chest. Robert Maxwell was empty. And nothing in the world was going to be the same again. He screamed...
[ December 06, 2003, 03:01 PM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Harbinger on :
Janus = Number 1 = vampire?
Thats my guess anyway. Kewl!!
Is Hughes Hill a real place Matt?
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Heh, no supernatural this time...
And let's just say Hughes Hill is based on a real MidWestern University...
BTW, I started this story in 1991. I have had to go back and change the current songs about 15 times. LOL
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
There is a VERY SMALL tie in with Midnight Investigations though. Did you find it?
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
CHAPTER 2
One week after Scott Maxwell’s funeral, Robert walked out of the Silver Bullet Bar arm in arm with a red-haired girl of about twenty-five. She was moderately attractive with her pretty face and average build. She had nice tits. Robert thought that she said her name was Suzanne. It didn’t really matter, anyway. He’d never see her after tonight. Last night it had been Meg, the night before Jenny and on and on and on. He kept hoping that something would take away the emptiness inside. And for a couple of hours, something did.
They walked down the block to the Sundown Hotel where he’d become a regular over the past week. The clerk smiled as Robert paid for the room. He could take the girls back to his place on the East Side but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do that. It didn’t seem right. Another young woman entered behind him, a brunette. He noticed at once how pretty she was. So did the redhead with the tits.
“Excuse me, Robby. Our room is ready. Let’s go.”
“Oh, okay, sorry, hon. Let’s do it.” He smiled and shrugged at the brunette. Then he returned his attention to Suzanne. He picked her up over his shoulder and carried her through the hallway. They came to the room numbered 103. He unlocked the door and they went in. Robert slammed the door shut behind them. He dropped Suzanne roughly onto the bed. She giggled as he took of his pants and began kissing her. He reached over for the bottle he had stashed in his trench coat pocket and took a large swig. Most of it missed his mouth and landed in Suzanne’s hair. She took the bottle from him and downed the rest. She took off her top and bra and moved closer as she returned his kisses. He unbuttoned her pants and she slowly slipped them the rest of the way off... ***
“That was great,” Suzanne enthused. “Best I’ve had in a while...”
“Hmmm.” Robert grunted, lighting a cigarette. Why won’t she shut up? God, why does she have to drone on and on? He prayed that she would just stop talking for a couple minutes. But then something happened to her voice. It grew deeper and strangely masculine. It was a voice Robert knew very well...
No longer was he talking to the red-haired woman he picked up at the Silver Bullet. In her place was Scotty!
“Why did you let me die?”
“Scotty??? I-I didn’t mean to. I mean, I was on my way,” Robert choked.
“You kept putting it off, didn’t you? You didn’t want to be seen in that fag bar! Admit it!”
“No, that’s not the way it was, I swear it! The client, Thompson was his name, he was late and then he kept wanting to talk more. I had to make that sale. I had to convince him, Scotty, it’s my job. I’m so sorry, this shouldn’t have happened to you. I should have been there.”
“Excuses.”
“No, I swear I’ll find whoever did this. You won’t go unavenged...”
“You don’t have it in you. I may have been the fag, but you were the pansy! Look at you, you’re a pathetic mess. Booze and women, like that’s gonna help me now. Good going, Robert. You Fuck-up!”
Robert jumped up. Suzanne was still talking about nothing. He must have dozed off for a second. He stared disgustedly at the naked woman beside him. This was all wrong. He wasn’t going to feel any kind of peace until Scotty’s killer was found. Maybe not even then. Having sex with a different woman every night wasn’t helping. Neither was getting drunk. No, he had to find the person who killed his brother. He rolled over and looked at Suzanne. She had been a great lay...
“Get out.”
“What did you say?”
“I said get out.” He handed her a ten- dollar bill. “This should cover your cab fair.”
“Are you serious? What kind of shit is this? You fuckin’ prick!”
“Whatever, just go on. Get outta here. I’ve got some thinking to do.”
Suzanne mumbled some choice expletives as she retrieved her clothes. Finally, after she had gone on for a full fifteen minutes about what a jerk Robert was, she slammed the door in a huff. Almost immediately, he heard a knock on the door. He sighed. So much for peace and quiet.
“Did you forget somethin’, Suzanne?” he stammered. “Come on in and get whatever it was.”
No one opened the door. Then, another knock
“Suzanne, are you deaf? I don’t have time for this shit.” Still no response. He groped for his boxers and fumbled to put them on as he staggered to the door. He opened it. But Suzanne wasn’t at the other side. It was the brunette that he saw earlier in the lobby. She smiled brightly. “Who the hell are you?”
She was beautiful with her long brown hair and ballerina’s figure. Her eyes were blue and her face without blemish. She wore very little make-up; only a bit of lipstick and blush. She was wearing a dark green blazer with a matching skirt, accented with a multi-colored scarf of Aztec design.
“My name is Kaysie Dupris,” she said simply. Her voice was gravely, reminiscent of Demi Moore’s. She extended her hand. Robert was unsure what to do. He was standing in front of a beautiful woman he didn’t know and he was almost completely naked! Quickly, he took her hand and shook it. He then hurried to the bed and covered himself with one of the crumpled sheets. A bra tumbled to the floor. Robert reached quickly to pick it up, throwing it back behind him. “I’m a reporter for the Evanston Herald.”
“The Herald? What the hell do you want with me?”
“What would you say if I told you I was investigating a local call girl ring?”
“Oh -uh.” Robert stammered. He had just given that twit Suzanne money! What if they were setting him up all along? In his drunken stupor he was easy prey. Of course, the money was only to pay for a cab, but still. “Then I’d ask you what you wanted with me.”
“Relax, Mr. Maxwell. I’m not here to write an expose about your cheap one-night flings. I could care less what you do. Although I would think you could do better than that floozy. But anyway, can I please come in?”
“Su -- sure, uh, make yourself comfortable.”
Kaysie looked at the rumpled bed and then at Robert.
“I’ll stand.”
Robert crossed in front of her. Their eyes locked momentarily until finally Kaysie spoke.
“OK. First, I just want to tell you how sorry I am to hear about what happened to your brother. The last thing I want to do is intrude on your grief, but....”
“My brother? My God, is THAT was this is about? He’s not even cold yet and you’re coming to me wanting an exclusive? Do you have no scruples?”
“Mr. Maxwell, remain calm. Have you forgotten that Scott worked at the paper? He and I were good friends. Believe me, I’m not here to do anything that would hurt you or your family, I can assure you. But I have reason to believe that whoever did this isn’t going to end it with your brother. All I want to do is find him, or her, before it happens again. And yes, a part of me wants revenge for his death.”
“And sell a few million newspapers in the process? And let’s not forget about the movie rights!” His sarcasm hung in the air and a brief and awkward silence followed. They were at a stalemate.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Morgan sat at the computer screen. His eyes couldn’t move away from the E-mail he had just received. He read it again.
Dear WriteStuff, I have chosen you because your online biography indicated that you were a gay writer. By now you know that I wasn’t joking the other night in the chat room. I told you that I would strike and I did. The Maxwell boy is now free of the shackles of this world. There will be more to come. You should know that I have taken steps to ensure that I cannot be traced through this service and that I have also taken the time to find out your name and address. (Morgan Cramer; 3211 High Street Apt 3. Do NOT try to stop me or someone YOU love will be next. I have chosen you for a very special task. I want you write down everything I tell you. You will serve as my recorder. But for now, you will tell no one. After I have finished, I want the world to know what I have done. YOU will tell them. Goodbye for now. You WILL hear from me again soon. Maybe even tonight... NUMBER 1
Morgan fumbled for his cigarettes and quickly lit one. He inhaled deeply as he scanned the message for a third time. Jesus, of all the times to be right about something. He had read in the paper about the Maxwell kid but he hadn’t made any connection before. There was no reason to. The papers didn’t say anything about Maxwell being gay. That “Number 1” guy from online did it! He picked up the telephone and dialed a familiar number. There were four rings and the familiar line about how Ryan Womber wasn’t home and to leave a message at the beep.
“Ryan, this is Morgan. Call me as soon as you get in. It’s an emergency.” He hung up the phone and sat alone in silence. *** “Look, no matter what you believe,” Kaysie said, “I’m not in this to get ahead in the newspaper industry. If the paper sells, it sells. That’s all fine and good; but I want to find the person that killed your brother. And that’s the important thing.”
“Tell that to my brother, Miss Dupris. Not that I’m putting stock in anything you say, but why do you think this man will do this again?” Robert was incredulous. How dare this woman intrude on his family like this? Thank God Mom was in Florida. She wouldn’t be able to handle this.
“Well, I know that the Evanston Police found a numeral “1” from Scott’s dorm room door in his right hand.”
“How did you know about that?” Robert remembered seeing something in Scotty’s hand, but at the time he was in no shape to make anything of it. The Police had told him and his mother not to mention it to anyone.
“I have my sources. But they don’t want the press to get hold of it.” She smiled as she spoke and Robert was somewhat comforted by that. “What the pea-brains don’t understand is that I have several sources in the Evanston Police Department. We know lots of things at the Herald. But we don’t always report them. Not because we don’t have the information but because we simply want to help the police however we can.”
“You sound like a damned infomercial,” Robert said flatly.
“Even so,” Kaysie retorted, “I think your brother was killed because he was..,” she stopped. She looked down at the floor as she continued. “Well, because of his lifestyle.” The word “lifestyle” struck Robert. If she meant what he thinks she did....
“Are you saying my brother was killed because he was ...,”
“The politically correct term is homosexual,” Kaysie interrupted.
“Listen, I know Scotty said he was gay. But that was all just a phase. I know it was. Even when he introduced me to that artist guy, I didn’t understand. And you know what, that goddam bastard didn’t even show up at the funeral. And now you are telling me that that’s why he was killed. What the hell kind of people are they?
“Mr. Maxwell... Robert, please calm down. You’re missing the point. Gay people are like everyone else. Some are good and some aren’t.”
“And how would you know, Ms. Kaysie Dupris, know-it-all? Are you gay?”
“That certainly isn’t the issue at hand.” She returned her gaze to Robert. He could tell that she really wasn’t trying to be evasive. But if what she told him was true, Robert had a lot of thinking to do.
“Look, this is a lot for me to take in. I’ll need to think about it. And I’ll need to do it when I’m sober.”
“And dressed, I would hope.” Until that very second, Robert had forgotten that his only covering was a sheet. He could feel his face turning a bit red. He wondered if Kaysie noticed. If she did, she didn’t say anything. She reached for her purse and handed him her card. “Take my card. Call me when you decide you want to help.”
“If I decide,” he corrected.
“If you decide,” she repeated. She got up from the couch and went back toward the door. He smiled slightly. “I really like the sheet.”
“Thanks.” Blood rushed to his face. How embarrassing! “Goodbye Ms. Dupris.”
“Goodbye Mr. Maxwell.”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
CHAPTER 3 Ryan Womber knocked on Morgan’s door. Finally, Morgan answered. The look on Morgan’s face told a thousand stories. But Ryan couldn’t see a happy ending in any of them. Ryan followed Morgan in his apartment. Without a word, Morgan handed Ryan several pieces of paper.
“What’s this?” Ryan asked. “Is this what you were rambling about on the phone?”
“Read them.” Morgan answered. “I received the last one just a few minutes ago.” Ryan read them all as Morgan paced the room. Finally, he read the last one.
WriteStuff: I realize that you may think I’m a crackpot. If you want proof of my work, go to the Mother of God Cemetery. I think you’ll be quite interested in what you find there. Make sure you tell no one. I’ll know if you did. And they will die. I will spare your other friends for now. After all, you are my muse. I’ll want to see your work soon. I’ll be in touch. Now go.
“Oh my God.” Ryan didn’t know what else to say.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you into this. He said that...”
“Look, I don’t give a rat’s ass what he said. I’m your best friend. Of course you called me. I don’t regret it for a minute and I won’t no matter what happens.”
“But Ryan, you can’t say anything to anyone or he’ll...”
“I know buddy. Don’t worry. We’re in this together. Besides are you sure that this guy isn’t just some harmless sicko?”
“No. But he seemed to know all the details about Scott Maxwell’s murder.”
“That’s the kid they found in the dorm room, right? Y’know, there’s only one way to find out for sure.”
“You think I should go to Mother of God Cemetery?”
“No, I think we should both go. No way I’m gonna let you do this alone. You may be the writer, but I’m the savvy one.” He grinned. “You need me.”
“I can’t risk it. What if he sees you there?”
“Believe me, I can be inconspicuous. I’ve had to hide from one too many wives that got home earlier than expected.” Morgan smiled at that. Ryan hoped that his attempt to lighten Morgan’s mood would succeed. This was all just too incredible. Thank God I didn’t agree to meet Number 1 that first night. Something told him not to meet that guy.
He remembered the conversation he had with “Number 1” on-line.
“So, how about you make me your first victim,” he had typed.
“What makes you so sure you aren’t already?” The response was quick.
“Point taken. So how about it?”
“Maybe. But don’t worry. I’ll get to everyone.”
“Well, if I can’t be first I don’t wanna be anything. Seeya pal.”
“As you wish, but I will come for you,anyway. Be ready.”
My God, it could have been me! Ryan felt as if he were living on borrowed time. Maybe that’s why he volunteered to help so readily. Besides Morgan was his best friend. If they couldn’t count on each other, what did they have?
“Well, I guess you’re right. Let’s go.” ***
Robert thought that he would have no trouble falling asleep after his encounters with Suzanne and Kaysie. He was drunk and spent. Unfortunately, sleep still eluded him. Every time he closed his eyes, he thought of Kaysie and the things she said. As much as he didn’t want to care that a mass murderer might be on the loose stalking homosexuals, he did. At the very least because of Scotty. But he wondered how he would feel about the whole thing if Scotty hadn’t been killed. Robert knew the answer. He would have said, “It doesn’t have anything to do with me.” And that would have been the end of it.
He tossed and turned for what must have been hours. Finally, Robert shrugged off his sheets and stood up. His aching muscles begged to return to the warm comfort of the bed. His mind, however, was an entirely different matter: Robert found himself unable to focus on any particular thing. Instead, he jumped from one thought to the other without any particular consistency or viscosity. He walked into the bathroom; fumbled for the light switch, finally turned it on and stared at himself long and hard.
“God, I look like Grizzly Adams!” he exclaimed in a tone spliced with anger, disgust and self-pity. He was referring to the week-old scruff that had almost sprouted into a full-grown beard. He hadn’t shaved since the funeral. The girls hadn’t seemed to mind. But enough was enough. He retrieved his suitcase from the bedroom and pulled out a disposable razor and shaving cream...
As he splashed his face, the warm water felt good against his coarse skin. He filled his left hand with shaving cream. In the back of his mind he heard the haunting melody of an old Depeche Mode song. For the life of him he couldn’t remember the words. He wasn’t sure why, but that bothered him.
He returned to the task at hand. He began shaving by placing the razor against his Adam’s apple as he had thousands of times before. But this time something was different. There was a slight pressure against his neck that he had never felt before. At first, he thought it was because the stubble was so thick. He had rarely gone this long without shaving. But then, the pressure turned into something else; it became pain.
Robert looked up into the mirror and gasped. Horrified, he saw his brother standing behind him, pressing the blade further into his neck. Scotty’s grip was like a vise. Blood began to trickle down his chest toward his stomach. Oh God, the blood! Robert’s stomach knotted up.
“Your fault! All your fault!” Scotty said. His voice was garbled and barely audible. Robert shivered as Scotty spoke. The pain, instead of dulling his senses, only served to sharpen them. By now, the blood had formed a large pool on the vanity. “Why didn’t you help me?”
“S-- Sorry,” Robert choked out. The pain was like a fire when he tried to speak. But he had to make Scotty understand. “Sorry.” The word seemed so powerful and yet so completely useless.
“Sorry!” the brother mocked. “Yeah well, I’m dead. You let me die and all you can say is ‘Sorry’? Like I said before. You’re pathetic!”
Robert didn’t have the strength to say anything else. He was blacking out. He embraced the thought. It was nothing more than he deserved. He should have been there that night, he could have put that client off and he knew it. He had been making excuses for himself. But no more. He closed his eyes and felt himself drifting away. He could see a pretty blonde woman beckoning him. She was wearing a white dress and humming that old song. Her voice grew louder. Robert finally remembered the words:
“I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumors But I think that God has a sick sense of humor And when I die, I expect to find him laughing”
The volume of the music increased dramatically. The pain disappeared and Robert slowly opened his eyes. He reached for his throat and was surprisingly found no blood. He shook as he realized that the music was coming from his clock radio. He must have mistakenly set the alarm for 11pm instead of am. It was now 11:07. The warmth from the comforter replaced the sticky heat of his blood. The encounter with Scotty and the razor blade had been nothing but a dream.
He rose out of bed, feeling a sense of deja vu’ as he did, and walked into the bathroom. He still felt he looked like Grizzly Adams but he thought better of shaving for now.
The dream had made him realize one thing, though. He couldn’t do this alone, though. Robert was many things, but a detective he was not. Like it or not, he needed Kaysie Dupris. He found her card and began to dial her number... ***
Janus shut off his computer and sat silently at his desk. Why couldn’t he forget about what happened with that Maxwell boy? The answer was silly really. Because that night was a turning point, and there was no going back now. He had to admit, it was a bit frightening at first, when Scott hit his head. How could he be so damned awkward? He almost blew it. But after that... Well, everything fell into place. It was as if at that moment, all his hopes and plans were made possible. Now he could move forward.
He got up from the chair and walked by a stack of unopened newspapers. Since that night, he hadn’t bothered to read a single one. He was free now, what news could possibly compare to his own? And soon, he would tell everyone. Tonight, he thought, he had come one step closer. It would only be a matter of time...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Ryan and Morgan walked through the Mother of God Cemetery. They couldn’t move very fast because they didn’t want to trip over a headstone and alert anyone to their presence. It was so dark that neither one of them could see more than a couple feet in front of them.
“I told you we should have brought a flashlight,” Ryan said. He almost tripped again. “Dammit,” he muttered.
“Shhhh. You know we can’t take that chance, I’m sure there is a security guard around here. The last thing we need is to get caught roaming around in a cemetery in the middle of the night.” Morgan was actually getting into this. But that was hardly a surprise, Ryan mused. After all, Morgan was very imaginative. He probably sees himself as a character in one of those books he’s always talking about writing. Funny thing about Morgan though, he’s always talking about writing. But he never mentions actually working on anything. Why is that?
“I know. I know. But what the hell are we looking for?”
“I’m not sure. You read the same notes I did. He said we’d see evidence of his ‘work’.”
“His ‘work’? Y’know he talking about himself like he’s some kind of...”
“Oh my God,” Morgan interrupted. He pointed straight ahead. Ryan looked forward and gasped.
“Jesus. But that’s --” But then, Ryan saw a light approaching. “Morgan, we’ve got to get the hell outta here. Someone’s comin’.”
No answer.
“Come on, Godammit!”
Still no response.
“That maniac might still be here! We’ve got to go... Now!” He extended his hand to Morgan. “Please, I don’t want to lose you.”
Finally, Morgan snapped out of his stupor. He grabbed Ryan’s hand and together, the two of them ran. Ryan had never run that fast in his life. He prayed that no one saw them. All they could do was hope. ***
The downtown office of the Evanston Herald, located on the corner of Fifth and Roanoke Streets, was the only building left from the 1800’s in the whole city. The city itself had been founded in 1832 and found itself thriving until the so-called “Great Fire of 1926” wiped out almost everything. The Evanston Herald Building, a ten-story high-rise, had minimal damage. Kaysie didn’t really care for the architecture of the building itself, but she was proud to work in a building full of such history. Part of her wished that she’d been around back in those days. Covering the fire could have been the pinnacle of her journalistic career. But of course, back then all the good stories went to men. Until now, reporting entertainment news, she hardly wrote the hard-edged stories she wanted to. Maybe this serial killer story would show that she had what it takes. And Scott was a great guy, he didn’t deserve this. She remembered the day she met him...
“Ms. Dupris, do you have a minute?”
“Uh sure,” she had said. “What’s up, uh--”
“I’m sorry, my name’s Scott Maxwell. I’m working here part-time.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’ve seen you around. What can I do for you?”
“I read that story proposal you did about the dangers of Crime Alley. I thought it was great stuff. That area needs to be cleaned up and maybe your story will help make people see that.”
“If it gets approved.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will. You seem pretty popular here.”
“But I’m a woman.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, that means my idea will get used. But a man will get to cover it. Y’see, everyone here thinks that tough assignments are for men only.”
“That’s bullshit, I mean that story is your idea. You should be able to cover it.”
“Y’know Scott Maxwell, I like you.”
“Enough to let me be your photographer if you get it?”
“We’ll see.”
“C’mon, I can be Jimmy Olsen to your Lois Lane.”
“Nope. I don’t need any Superman to come and save me.”
“Somehow, Miss Dupris, I believe that.”
“Call me Kaysie.”
She smiled as she thought about that encounter. The story did get approved and sure enough it went to Jack Robbins. But something else happened then, she and Scotty became friends. It tore her up inside to think that Scott was dead. He was wonderful. But still, she wanted to get this story. Maybe...
Maybe nothing. If Robert Maxwell wouldn’t help she had nothing. She needed that angle. Every good reporter knows that you’ve got to have a good angle to have a good story. Anyone can simply recite facts.
But this wasn’t just another story. The whole subject of homosexuality was touchy in the time-forgotten town of Evanston. If there was really a killer stalking gays, how would the community react?. It was a well-known fact that “Simple” Simms Leef, the city Sheriff, had publicly denounced homosexuality as morally reprehensible. What will happen if there are, God forbid, more killings?
Kaysie stared out at the darkness outside her third story cubicle by the window. She jumped as someone grabbed her shoulder. She let out a small squeal and leaped out from her chair.
“I -- I’m sorry Miss Dupris, I didn’t mean to scare you, but - but,” said a balding man with plastic rimmed glasses and a paisley tie that ended three inches above his navel.
“That’s okay, Bob. I shouldn’t have been sitting here minding my own business anyway. What can I do for you?” Kaysie immediately berated herself for being so rude but sometimes Bob Myler drove her completely insane. He was a nice enough man, and Kaysie had known him ever since she started working at the Herald two years prior; but Bob Myler had a way about him that annoyed the piss out of her.
“I-I heard it on the police scanner,” he stammered.
“Heard what?” Kaysie asked patiently. It was probably about Bingo Winners or something.
“They found another body.”
“What?” Okay, this was big. “Another body?
“I said they found another body.”
“Okay, Bob. Where?”
“Over there on my scanner.”
“No, no! Where was the body found?” She was pulling on her coat even as she asked. She had to see the body before the police moved it. Assuming it was connected to Maxwell’s, there might be a clue.
“Mother of God Cemetery.”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
and that's all for today...
Gotta get some stuff done...
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
So long as that 'stuff' includes writing more of this we'll forgive you....
You're moving this along at a good pace and still filling in lots of personal detail about the characters - great stuff Matt!
Posted by STU on :
Wow, this is terrific! I'm looking forward to seeing more...
(And for now, I'll hop on over to Midnight Redemption... )
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
The Mother of God Cemetery was located five miles outside of Evanston on State Route 7. Kaysie drove the car as fast as she could the entire way. She knew that she had to get there before the Police removed the body. Dammit, another victim already? Now, now Kaysie; don’t jump ahead of yourself. The two deaths are probably not connected.
She reached the outskirts of the old cemetery just as a second police cruiser pulled to the end of the long, shadowy lane. Kaysie followed and parked beside it. As the cop left his car, he watched Kaysie leave hers and aimed his flashlight toward her Geo Storm. The cop motioned for her to come toward him. She did as she was told.
“Miss, the cemetery is closed,” said the tall, dark and decidedly ugly red-haired man in the police uniform. “Come back tomorrow morning.”
“Ah’m so sorry, officah,” Kaysie said. The twang surprised even her. She had practiced it for just such an occasion. But she never thought she could pull it off. She just hoped that he didn’t recognize her from her by-line picture. “Ah’ve come such a long way to see mah poor cousin Jeb. He died o’ leukemia last week an’ I missed the fun’rel on account o’ mah job. Ah’m waitress down in Cyan City. I jus’ wanted to pay mah respects, thas all.”
“At one o’clock in the morning? Look Miss, I feel bad about your cousin Jeb and all, but you can’t just come in here at this time of night.”
“Ah just got off work sir. Tomorra is mah only day off and ah’ve got so much ta do. This was mah only chance ta come up this way. Ah’m not here ta cause no trouble if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Miss, normally I might make an exception. But tonight just isn’t a good night. Do me a favor and get back in your car and turn around.”
“Officah, wah would anyone care. Has somethin’ happened? Damn grave robbers.”
“No ma’am, nothing like that. It’s just too late for anyone to be here.” His voice was stern. Kaysie could tell he was getting impatient with her.
“Ah’ll only be a minute officuh,” she said. She sauntered past him toward the other light shining off in the distance. “Ah know just where he’s buried.” The redheaded cop followed her.
“Miss, you really can’t...”
“Of course Ah can, ya silly. Ah even brought these here flowers for ‘im. Ya gotta let me do that, right?” She smiled. Thank God she thought to pick some up on the way. They may be cheap, but he’ll never know in the darkness.
“Look Miss, I’ve just about had it. I can’t let you take another step. Come back another day. Jeb will still be here.” But it was too late. She saw what the Officer had been trying to steer her away from. And now, she almost wished she had let him. Kaysie was sickened. The redhead had finally managed to catch up to her. “Miss?”
The sight before Kaysie was almost more than she could bear. She had seen dead bodies before, but only at funeral homes and in pictures in textbooks. Nothing in all her journalistic experience so far could prepare her for what she was now facing...
Lying against an unmarked tombstone were the remains of a young woman. She had long blonde hair. Kaysie guessed from her style of dress that she had been no older than thirty. Her throat was been slit open and she stared into space as if she were looking at something beyond the real world.
After the shock wore off, Kaysie turned her attention to the tombstone behind the woman’s body. Someone had written a message with what looked to be the woman’s blood on it. Scribbled in dark reds and browns was a very distinct message...
First was the Roman numeral “II”. Directly following was the name “Lorraine Peterson.” She committed the name to memory, not wanting anyone to see her write it down. Finally, there was a triangle outlining the name and number. The blood has trickled so it wasn’t geometrically perfect, but it was definitely a triangle... ***
Robert dialed the number on Kaysie’s card. He knew that if he didn’t make the call now, he never would. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but this Dupris woman was his best shot. He knew it was late but he decided to leave a message so she would call him first thing in the morning. He was quite surprised when someone actually answered the phone.
“Evanston Herald, Kaysie Durpis’ extension. May I help you?”
“Yes, my name is Robert Maxwell, and...”
“Hi, I’m Bob Myler. Nice to talk to you.”
“Uh, yeah. Listen, is Ms. Dupris around?”
“Around what?”
“Is she in her office?” Robert’s tolerance for the buffoon was minimal. He was going to yell if he didn’t get an intelligent answer.
“No, she’s out. It is one-thirty in the morning.”
“I realize that. I just wanted to leave her a message.”
“OK.”
“Can you tell her that Robert Maxwell called and would like her to call him?”
“I’ll tell her as soon as she gets back from the cemetery.”
“What?”
“I said, I’ll tell her when...”
“No, no. I heard you. Why is Kaysie at the cemetery?”
“Because they found... Uh, I really shouldn’t tell you this. I don’t even know you.”
“Look, you pathetic dimwit. Tell me why she’s at the cemetery or I will come through this phone and rip out your fucking heart. Is that clear?” God, that felt good.
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to get so testy. They found a body at the Mother of God Cemetery. Ms. Dupris went up there to check it out.”
“Thank you. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“No-no.”
“Bye.”
Robert put down the receiver and got dressed. He knew what he had to do. Within minutes he was on his way. Mother of God Cemetery? Another body? Looks like Kaysie may have been right. Damn
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Morgan and Ryan hurried back to Morgan’s apartment. They had stopped several times to make sure no one was following them. Morgan locked the door behind them. He couldn’t stop shaking. Ryan didn’t appear to be much better off. They looked at each other and embraced. That had been the single most horrific incident of Morgan’s life. Neither one of them spoke. They just held each other. Finally, Morgan broke free and walked over to the computer.
“I really don’t want to turn this on.”
“Then don’t. I don’t want to know what that maniac has to say. Cancel your account. That will end this nightmare.”
“I wish it were that simple. Remember, he knows my name and address. If I don’t do this his way, people close to me are gonna die.”
“Like Lorraine? My God, what did that sick bastard do to her?” The thought of Lorraine being killed because of him made Morgan sick to his stomach. She had introduced Morgan to Ryan and many others. She had been like an older sister. It was she who started the GLIG Group in Evanston. GLIG stood for Gay/Lesbian Interest Groups. Both Morgan and Ryan had joined at Lorraine’s request.
“I don’t want to know. But I’ve got to make sure nothing happens to anyone else, especially y-,” Morgan couldn’t finish the sentence.
“You think he’s gonna come after me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you were thinking it.” Ryan walked over to the desk. By now, Morgan had logged in. “What are we gonna do?”
“Follow instructions,” Morgan answered. “For now.”
“So any more messages?”
“Nope.”
“Thank God.” Ryan touched his shoulder. It felt so good to have him there. Although he still felt guilty for bringing Ryan into this, he never would have made it this far without him. Now all they had to do was stay alive and find a way to stop this maniac. Then they would be free from this nightmare. ***
By the time Robert reached the cemetery, an ambulance was just driving away. There were several police cars and other vehicles just outside the gate. Robert guessed that these belonged to reporters. Damned vultures. In the distance, he could see spotlights aimlessly traveling through the darkness. He followed them onto the grounds. He could make out a few blurry images in the distance but nothing specific.
“I don’t think you want to go any farther,” said the female voice. It was Kaysie. “It’s not a very pretty sight.” She was wearing a black overcoat and a red scarf. She was smoking a cigarette.
“Who was it?” This was it. The moment of truth.
“It was a young woman, named Lorraine Peterson. At the moment that’s all I know. I’m gonna run a check later.”
“Do you think she was killed for the same reason as my brother?”
“Not a doubt in my mind. Same MO and everything.” She stopped and looked at him. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“I called your office and some guy said you were here.”
“Oh? What did you want?”
“I called to tell you that I wanna help you.”
“I’m glad you came to your senses.” There was no sign of excitement. Robert had expected her to be jumping for joy at his decision. At least a smile. This woman had a heart of stone! “Let’s meet tomorrow around 7:20 at your hotel room. Or have you decided you go back home?”
“I think the hotel would be best until we solve this.”
“It’s your money. But it is a good idea. I’m actually impressed.”
“Thanks,” Robert found himself blushing. “Uh, Miss Dupris?”
“Yes?”
“How was she killed?”
“Her throat was split open.”
“Jesus. Do you know when this happened?”
“It was on the scanner about 12:30 am. I found out that the night watchman usually checks the area at least once an hour or so. I would say it happened between ten thirty and eleven thirty. But that’s just a guess. Why?”
Robert told her about his dream. He also mentioned the alarm clock and the time he woke up. He watched Dupris’ face as he relayed the information, looking for a change of expression. Instead, he received a cold stare.
“Have you thought about how we’re gonna nail this guy?”
“Yep. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it much.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you are going under cover.”
“Under cover? What the hell are you talking about?” Then he stopped as he realized what she meant. He knew exactly what she wanted and she had been right: he didn’t like it. Not a damn bit. “Oh no. I don’t think so...”
“Look, it’s the only way,” she interrupted. “We’ll go over everything tomorrow. Oh, and dress properly. You’re going out.”
“Properly? You’ve got to be kidding. I don’t how to dress ‘properly’.”
“Obviously.”
“Look, Miss..”
“Kaysie.”
“Whatever. Kaysie. I don’t think this is gonna work out. I mean, I’m just not made that way. Anyway, why can’t you do it?”
“Because my face is plastered on the newspaper every day. I was lucky none of those cops over there noticed who I was when I first got here.” She pointed toward the police officers who were packing up their equipment. “Can’t you even try to do this?”
“I just don’t think I can. I want to help, but I don’t know if I can pretend...”
“The thing you’re not getting Robert, is that you don’t have to pretend to be anything other than you are.”
“But I’m not gay. I’m simply not gay.”
“You know that and I know that, but what you have to realize is that the only difference between you and a gay man is sexual preference, everything else is personality. Be yourself.”
“Okay! You’ve made your point,” he didn’t believe her but there was no point arguing now. He and Scott had the same discussion and they went round and round. Robert knew that there was something he just didn’t understand. A truth had somehow eluded him that Kaysie and Scott had been aware of. Hell, even their mother was aware of it. Why couldn’t he understand?
“You realize, of course, that the reason this has an excellent chance of succeeding is the fact that you resemble your brother so closely.”
“I see.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll cover everything tomorrow, I promise. Let’s just get the hell out of here. It’s been a long day.”
Robert didn’t expect that the days were going to get shorter anytime soon.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Morgan awoke to the sound of birds singing in the distance. He stumbled into the living room where Ryan had fallen asleep on the couch. He’d hoped that Ryan was comfortable. Morgan would have asked him to share the bed but thought better of it. With everything that was going on, comfort might turn into something more. Best to avoid that possibility altogether. They didn’t need that complication on top of everything else.
He looked at Ryan’s sleeping body and decided to get on the computer. If the maniac was expecting him to write he damn well better do it. He checked his e-mail. As expected, he had received a new one. It read:
WriteStuff: I assume you saw what I did to your little friend Lorraine. She was a lovely young girl. But you need to know that I expect you to be finished with accounts of what I have told you so far by tomorrow night at midnight. The salvation is at hand. More to come...
“My God, he’s insane,” Ryan said from behind him. Morgan jumped.
“Jesus. You scared the hell outta me. I didn’t know you were awake.”
“Like I can sleep knowing that our lives are in danger.”
“Not as long as I do what he says.”
“Yeah, but for how long?”
“Until we can find some way out of this.”
“Well, I did some thinking last night. I’m gonna do a little bit of detective work on my own.”
“Are you sure? If he finds out...”
“I know. But you have to spend your time writing. If you don’t, something bad is gonna happen anyway. I can move around while you do what you are told. I’ll find out what I can and report back to you.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I’m not terribly fond of the idea either. But I don’t see any other choice. Do you?”
Morgan shook his head.
“Good, Morgan. Look, I’m not blaming you for this. I’m glad you called me.”
“I really am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Morgan got up and tried to face Ryan. He couldn’t look at him. The guilt was overwhelming. But Ryan grabbed his chin and pulled it up so that they were staring into each other’s eyes. Ryan drew closer and they kissed. Morgan found himself responding more passionately than he expected. So was Ryan. “I really am glad you called me.”
“Do you have any idea where to start.”
“A couple. I want to talk with a couple people.”
Morgan nodded. He was only half paying attention to Ryan’s words. What was happening between them? This was a dangerous flirtation. They shouldn’t be doing this and yet, it felt right. ***
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Robert said aloud. He didn’t usually find himself talking to thin air, but the situation was positively ludicrous. He shook his head. How did he ever allow that woman to talk him into this? He was wearing a flowered hot pink and electric blue silk shirt, a black vest and black jeans. His hair, usually styled with a conservative part on the left side, now stood up two inches higher than it naturally would with no discernible part. He had gone out and bought the shirt and styling gel earlier. After all, he really didn’t have anything that would do for this occasion.
He left the bathroom, trying to avoid his reflection in the mirror. Walking into the bedroom, he put on a splash of his favorite cologne, Dolce’ & Gabana, and sat down on his mahogany bed. All he had to do now was wait for Kaysie to show up so that they could map out a strategy. He still had plenty of time before Kaysie was due to arrive. He decided to lie down for awhile. Before long, sleep overtook his mind and body. ***
The archives room at the Evanston herald was located on the top floor of the building. It’s dustiness and gloom made evident that it was rarely used in these days of computers. Oddly enough, the room was immaculate except for the area around which Kaysie had planted herself. She had been there all day searching for information on Lorraine Peterson. She hadn’t found anything that could help. A whole day wasted. Dammit.
“Shit,” she murmured as she checked her watch. 7:40. She was supposed to meet Robert at twenty after seven. She began to return all the files to their proper place. As she did so, a photograph fell out from one of them. She glanced at it for a second, deciding that something was familiar about it. She searched for the accompanying article, finally found it, and began to skim through. A smile formed on her lips.
“I’ve got it,” she said aloud. The headline read: “Gay Rights Group Arrested for Rioting.” The article was dated almost two years ago. The picture depicted four men and two women handcuffed by the police. She couldn’t make out all of the rioters, but one of the women was Lorraine Peterson! The article stated that all six were released form custody later that same day on their own recognizance. The names of the rioters weren’t given out.
Kaysie quickly stuffed the page and photo in her knapsack and finished putting the rest of the papers away. She checked for the negatives of the photo and found them among some notes the author made for the article. She was startled as the phone rang. She knew that it was an internal call because the sound was two short rings instead of one longer one.
“Kaysie Dupris,” she answered.
Silence.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” This is Kaysie Dupris. Can I help you?” She was just about to hang up when a voice finally came from the receiver.
“Do you really want to help me?” The low-pitch voice reverberated. “Is that what you really want?”
“Who is this? What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Miss Dupris. You’re supposed to be an investigative reporter. Figure it out.” There was strange music coming out of the receiver. Carousel music? “I’ll give you a hint,” the voice continued. “You’ve been writing about some of my recent work.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’ve been writing about the salvation of Scott Maxwell and Lorraine Peterson.”
“Salvation?”
“That’s right. I think of myself as their savior.”
“What?”
“I’m saving them. I’m saving them all.” The music continued. Kaysie shivered.
“Save them all? Who? From what?”
“You decide.”
“Okay. Why did you call me?”
“I’ve read your writing. I want it to stop.”
“You want me to stop writing? Why?”
“I’ve chosen another. Someone else will be my muse. My deeds will be recorded, but by one of the chosen themselves.” Still the music.
“You know that what you are doing is drawing attention to the media. Even if I did stop, there will be others.”
“Let them write as they will. I’ll be watching. In fact, I’m watching you now. In fact, I know what you are wearing right now.” Kaysie’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered that this call had been an internal one. But had someone from downstairs transferred the call or was this man in the building somewhere? She couldn’t panic. But where the hell was he? Was he here? “You’re being terribly quiet, Miss Dupris. Don’t you want me to tell you what you are wearing?”
“Go ahead,” she whispered. She took a deep breath and waited for his response. Her eyes, sore from the dry contact lenses and the dust in the archive’s room, began to itch.
“You are wearing a white turtleneck with a gray blazer and matching slacks.” Kaysie compulsively looked down at her clothing. The voice had described her outfit perfectly.
“Where are you? Where the hell are you?” She knew that is was still possible that the man wasn’t in the building. Maybe he had seen Kaysie at lunch. Maybe nothing. She knew in her heart that he was there, watching her.
“There is no reason to be scared. I don’t want to hurt you. Just do as I say and you won’t be hurt.” The music seemed to be growing louder.
“Why are you doing this?” The investigative reported in her was goading him. And although her eyes were itching more vehemently, she focused on one thing: getting answers.
“Don’t play stupid, Kaysie. You know what I’m doing. I’m saving them.”
“Who exactly do you think you are saving?”
“The chosen ones.” The chosen ones? That’s the second time he used this phrase.
“Come again?”
“The ones forced to live a lie. Forced to hide and cower while the rest of the world ridicules and despises them. And for what reason? Because they simply have the audacity to love someone within their own sex.”
“Look Mister. I don’t know why you think you have the right to play God but you aren’t convincing me. In fact, how do I know you really are the killer? For all I know, you could be playing some sort of stupid trick.”
“A trick, Miss Dupris? Do you think it was a trick when I slit the Lorraine’s throat? Do you think I was kidding around when I killed Scotty?”
“You can’t do this. They don’t deserve this. No one does.” Kaysie’s eyes were tearing up to the point where everything was becoming a distinct blur.. She had to remove her contacts.
“They deserve to be free. But look, I have to go now. I hope you’ve enjoyed our little talk as much as I have. Remember what I told you: no more writing. By the way, I really didn’t mean to put tears in your eyes.”
Kaysie froze. Tears in my eyes? My God, he was here! And he was close enough to see her. She removed her contacts as quickly as she could and searched her purse for her glasses. But they weren’t there. She must have left them in her car.
She squinted to improve her vision. She could make out the blurry form of the elevator on the other side of the long room. Suddenly, the elevator doors opened and something moved toward them. Then the door abruptly closed and the figure was gone. She scooped up her briefcase and ran toward the elevator. She was close enough to tell that the elevator had only made one stop. Whoever had been up in the archive’s room with her was now in the parking garage. Rather than waiting, for the next elevator, Kaysie opted for the stairs.
By the time she reached the garage, she was panting. She saw her car and stumbled toward it. On the windshield, there was a note held down by the wiper. Kaysie grabbed the paper and held it close to her face.
BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!!!!!!!!!!
Gasping, Kaysie unlocked her car and, after a few moments, began to drive to Robert’s hotel room. It was now 8:09.
[ December 14, 2003, 06:01 AM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Ryan made his way into the crowded restaurant. The Secret Garden was well known as the hangout for gays before heading to the bar. The vegetarian menu was not Ryan’s cup of tea but this was a good place to find some answers. At least it beat sitting at Morgan’s doing nothing...
Ryan thought about the kiss he and Morgan shared. It had been a shock to both. But it was nice. Very nice. But there would be time to sort all of that out later. Hopefully. Now he had to find a way to get them out of this mess. The Secret Garden would be a good place to start.
After all, the Secret Garden was the place where Lorraine and the other GLIC members had their meetings. It was about the only place where they were all seen together in public. That’s the only way Ryan could imagine the stalker would know a connection between Morgan and Lorraine.
He found a table and sat down at toward the back of the restaurant. He looked around nervously at various people seated inside. Most were gay couples enjoying a light meal before facing the rigors of alcohol and dancing. But next to him was a nice looking man sitting alone. The pale-featured man smiled as Ryan looked at him. After a few moments of awkward glances, the man finally spoke up.
“You’re eating alone?”
“Yup. My friends are gonna meet me at the bar later.” One lie. No one knew where he was. Ryan wondered now it that had been such a smart move.
“Oh. Well, I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not, like I said, I’m all alone. Um, why don’t you join me.” The guy was cute, if a bit too pale for Ryan’s taste. Ryan wondered why the man was not with someone.
“Okay. If you’re sure. By the way, my names Ryan.”
“I’m Janus.”
Somewhere in the background, a plate broke .***
“What in the hell are you wearing?” Kaysie demanded.
“Don’t you like it?” Robert retorted. “It’s my gay outfit.”
“I... see,” Kaysie said, “So you think wearing an electric blue shirt and having hair up to the ceiling is what defines ‘gay’?”
“Isn’t it?” Robert grinned.
Kaysie sighed and rolled her eyes. “You just don’t get it.”
Kaysie had just finished giving Robert the details of her encounter at the Herald’s archive. It was only after she unloaded that information that she turned he attention to Robert’s hideous get-up.
“This isn’t what I should be wearing?”
“Let me ask you this. Did you ever see your brother dress like that?”
“Of course not.”
“Okay, case closed. Go change.”
“You mean your little encounter with that psycho didn’t change your mind about this crazy idea?”
“No.”
“You could have been killed.”
“Coulda... Woulda... Shoulda... I have no time for introspection. And neither do you. That unfortunate little encounter already messed up our timetable and now you are running around like a member of the Bee Gee’s fan club. I’ll be surprised if we get anything done tonight.”
“The Bee Gee’s? You wound me.”
“Well, you’re gonna wound someone with all that hairspray. Go wash that out!”
“Okay then, Miss Know-it-all, what should I wear?”
“Anything you would normally wear out.”
“Okay, I’ll go change. Just don’t preach to me anymore. Okay?”
“It’s a deal,” Kaysie smiled. “For now.” ***
Morgan stared at the screen before him. He had finished the assignment and wondered what he to do next. Ryan was out doing God knows what and here Morgan was... alone. Ryan. Morgan sighed. Could he actually have romantic feelings for Ryan? It seemed crazy and yet... No. That was inappropriate. This was not the time to be worried about a relationship.
He quickly turned on his connection to United Online and joined the chat room. There were several people logged onto the Evanston room so Morgan knew he would have no trouble striking up a conversation. This was a nice diversion. Almost immediately, he found himself messaged by someone with the screen name ThePaintr.
“Hi there.”
“Hello.” He typed.
“What are you doing?”
“Not a damn thing.” Morgan was amused at himself. He could have typed “I’m waiting to hear from my friend who I just kissed for no reason give me information on a psycho killer that is forcing me to write for him.” But that might be a bit much for a first date.
“Me either. Do you have a pic?”
The familiar picture question. Morgan was used to that now. That was one of the first questions asked when someone was looking to hook up online. He type in the word “Sure.”
“You send and I’ll reply.” ThePaintr typed.
After the process was completed, Morgan looked at the picture he had been sent. “ThePaintr” was very attractive in a college boy kind of way. Morgan thought that he could do this. It had been a while...
“You there?” “The Painter asked.
“Yeah, you’re place or mine?” Morgan was surprised by his forwardness.
“Yours if you don’t mind. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Morgan.”
“Mine’s Todd. Nice to meet you Morgan. Directions?”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kaysie and Robert entered the Harbour at exactly Midnight. Robert looked around the bar to see that Kaysie had been right. Not a single flowered shirt in sight! He smiled as he looked at her. She was quite beautiful. Maybe he had pegged her wrong. She seemed like a decent enough person. But then again, that was her job...
“What are you thinking?” Kaysie asked.
“I’m thinking that I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Kaysie sighed.
“If you tell me to be myself again...”
“No. But you need to figure it out for yourself shortly. I have another lead to follow up on and you’ll be here without my help. Think you can handle it?”
“I guess I’ll have to.” He didn’t want to be alone in there, but it would do no good to protest. He walked away from her and took a seat at the bar. He motioned for the bartender as Kaysie caught up with him.
“I need to go now,” she said. “But I’ll be back at 3AM sharp to pick you up. Don’t get into any trouble.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and walked away.
Robert turned to watch her leave. When he turned around, the bartender was right in front of him. “I’ll have a rum and coke.”
“Ummmmmm, sure.” The bartender was looking at him very strangely. Robert felt a chill in his spine. He watched as the bartender poured his drink. He was shaking like a leaf! He soon returned with the drink. “Th---that will be ummm...”
“Yes?”
“That will be $2.50.” The bartender regained his composure. Still, he was staring a hole through Robert. “ I hate to ask this, but have you ever been in here before?”
“No, why?”
“You look familiar.”
“Oh, I get that a lot. I must just have one of those faces.”
“I guess.”
“Anyway, what’s your name? Mine’s Robert.”
“Marcus here.” *** Kaysie knocked on the door of Lorraine Peterson’s house. After several knocks, a frumpy woman of about 38 opened the door. She was obviously drunk as the smell of alcohol almost knocked Kaysie down.
“Yeah?” the woman muttered. “What the hell can I do for you at midnight??” The woman had obviously been crying. Mascara streaked down her face and her eyes were bloodshot. Her brown hair was flat and seemed to Kaysie to be in need of a wash. She was wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“Hello. I'm so sorry about calling on you at this hour. My name is Kaysie Dupris. I work for...”
“I know who you are. Your damn picture is plastered all over the news. What do you want?”
“I want to ask you a few questions.”
“About Lorraine?” The woman held tight to the door as if clinging to it for her very life. “Yes.”
“I don’t think so.” The woman started to shut the door but Kaysie quickly blocked the way with her shoulder. Ow. That hurt...
“Hear me out. Just for a second, OK?”
“Suit yourself.” The woman swaggered back into her apartment. “What the hell are you waiting for, a formal invitation? If you want to come in, come on!”
Kaysie accepted the invitation and looked around. Chaos abounded. There was trash everywhere. On the coffee table was a picture of Lorraine and the woman taken in one of those instant photo booths found at most malls. She studied the picture briefly before turning her gaze back to the woman. “So you were Lorraine’s lover?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” She picked up a beer can and took a large gulp.
“I want to find whoever did this.”
“Leave it alone.”
“Why?”
“What good will it do? My Laney is gone. Nothing is gonna bring her back.”
“You’re right of course. But I want to find the freak that did this.”
“I will tell you one thing, Miss Dupris. If I ever find out who did this to her. Heaven help him. Or her.”
“Ms?”
“Petersen, I had my name legally changed to Lorraine’s about a year ago. But you can call me Bette.”
“All right, Bette. Will you help me?”
“I will do whatever it takes. I want to fry the sick fuck.”
“Fine, we’ll deal with punishment after we catch him. Have you seen this?” Kaysie held up the photograph taken from the Herald’s archives.
“Yeah, that was taken the day Lorraine went to jail. I always teased her about being my little jailbird.” She picked up a tissue and wiped her eyes. The mascara was even runnier.
“Do you know any of the other people in this picture?”
Bette took the clipping and put a monocle over her left eye. “I’ve got an astigmatism.” She stared at the picture for a few more seconds. “I know one of the guy’s in it. He works at the Harbour..”
“Do you know his name by any chance?”
“Marcus is his first name. But I don’t know any more than that about him. Lorraine didn’t talk that much about that stuff to me.”
“I take it you weren’t into the political thing at all?”
“No, I left that to Laney. She was always working on one hopeless battle or another. She thrived on it. It’s one of the things I loved... love the most about her.” Bette’s eyes started to well up. Kaysie decided it was time to retreat. She handed Bette a card.
“I’m going to go now,” she said softly. “But if you need anything. Or if you think of anything else, give me a buzz.”
“I will,” Bette said as she showed Kaysie out the door. “And Ms. Dupris?”
“Yes.”
“Catch this bastard and lock him up before I find him myself.” ***
Morgan paced the floor waiting for a knock. He needed this. It would take his mind off of... everything. He wondered how smart it was to pick a stranger up. But, Morgan told himself, nothing bad should happen unless this guy finds out about Ryan. But that’s impossible. They had been too careful. Everything would be fine. Then they could get back to their crazy lives...
The doorbell finally rang and Morgan almost leaped to answer it. He pulled open the door and smiled.
“Hey," he said, "you Morgan?” Todd was build very well, blonde hair, blue eyes. Yum. He was dressed very casually, in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. He was very masculine, very different from the guy swe usually meets. Very different fro... Ryan...
“Yup. And you must be Todd.”
“You got it man.”
“Well, come on in and have a seat.”
“OK.” they walked over to the couch and Morgan motioned for Todd to sit.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Morgan hoped that he would say no.
“I’m cool, man.”
“Good. OK. Morgan picked up his remote and turned on the television. He turned on the then hit the play button on his VCR. Suddenly, the screen was full of naked men.
“Nice video,’ Todd grinned.
Morgan chuckled. “I like it. Kinda adds to the mood.”
“Well, why don’t you come over here and show me what they are doing on there.”
“Well, you don’t beat around the bush.”
“We both know what we want... Why bother?”
“You’re right.” Morgan sat down next to Todd and before he could even take a breath, Todd was kissing him. Not only that, but he was rubbing his hand against Morgan’s crotch. Morgan felt an immediate stimulation and Todd reacted to it. He looked at Morgan, and smiled. Then he returned to the kisses. “Why don’t we head into the bedroom. I think it may be a bit more comfortable there.”
“Lead on.”
They kissed and groped and finally stumbled into the bedroom, falling onto the bed. Before long, both of them were completely naked and entwined. Then Todd roughly threw Morgan’s legs in the air. Todd paused only long enough to put a condom on and then he roughly entered Morgan. He pounded hard into Morgan. At first Morgan winced in pain, then the pleasure came rushing in as Todd hit the prostate repeatedly.
Suddenly, Todd stopped. Morgan looked at him. Todd’s eyes were blazing as he pulled out. Morgan tensed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s not you. It’s... me. I’ve got a lot going on right now. I’m sorry.”
“Hey dude, it’s fine.” Morgan put on his boxers and stood up. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I really do need to get a few things off my chest man.”
“OK, let’s go back in the living room.”
“All right.”
Todd paused long enough to put on his shirt and boxers.
“Now tell me, what’s going on?”
“Man, my ex boyfriend was just murdered.”
“What?” Oh my God, you mean the Maxwell kid?”
“Yeah, you see. It’s all because of me.” ***
Ryan and Janus made it through salad and the main course on mostly chitchat. They talked about the weather. They talked about their jobs. They even talked about their hobbies. But throughout the whole conversation, Ryan sensed that Janus was holding back aomething.
As their desserts arrived, Ryan spoke up again.
“So, tell me. What’s a handsome guy like you doing out alone.”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“But you didn’t. So I get first dibs. What’s your story here?”
“Not much to tell really, I haven’t been “out” very long if you know what I mean.”
“Ah, so you are new to the scene.”
“Yup, I met a guy at the Harbour a few days ago. But he hasn’t called me back.”
“You’ll get used to that after awhile. There are a lot of not so nice guys out there. After they get what they want from you, you never hear from them again. It’s sad really.”
“I thought this guy would be the one. The Number one. Hell, the only one.”
“Well, everyone thinks that at first.” Ryan paused for a second. What had he said? Number one? Just like the screen name the killer used to reach Morgan? Coincidence? “Ummm. not to bring up any painful memories or anything, but what was the guy’s name? Maybe I know him or something and could hook you back up.”
“He said it was Scott.”
“Scott Maxwell?”
“Yeah, that’s it. How did you know?”
“Have you not read the papers?”
“No, I’ve been kinda ignoring the world since that night. It was so magical. Why do you ask?”
“I have something to tell you about Scott Maxwell.” Ryan didn’t know what to do next. This guy had been with Scott Maxwell. Ryan knew that Scott had just turned 21 on the night he died. He couldn’t have met this guy on any night other than the night Scott died! But the guy acted as though he didn’t know anything about Scott’s death. And he didn’t try to hide it either. If he had killed Scott, wouldn’t he keep the fact he had met the guy quiet? Something wasn’t adding up.
“So you do know him?”
“No, but I’m not sure how to say this. He was murdered a few days ago.”
“What?”
“Yeah, on his 21st birthday. His mom found him dead in his dorm room later that night. She was planning a surprise for him. Guess she got one of her own instead.”
“Oh my God. That was the night I met him! We went back to his place and...”
“Did you two... ummm... I mean, did you have sex?”
“I’m not so sure I should say anything else.”
“No maybe you shouldn’t. I’m going to call the police.”
“No! You can’t do that! I mean, I won’t let you!” He half whispered, half exclaimed to Ryan. Ryan sat dumbfounded as Janus took a butter knife and held it against Ryan’s side. “Now stand up slowly and calmly walk toward the door with me.”
Ryan took a deep breath and did as he was told. The two of them approached the exit quickly as their waiter approached them.
“Did you forget your...?”
Ryan could see that the waiter had noticed the knife. Janus must have noticed it as well because he pushed Ryan hard into a table and ran quickly out the door.
“Are you OK?” The waiter asked as he helped Ryan back up.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Call 911! I’m going after that guy.”
Ryan ran out the door but there was no sign of Janus anywhere. Damn. And then he had another thought. What if he went after Morgan? He raced back inside and asked to use a phone. His cell was in the car, recharging.
He tried to call Morgan but only got his machine. ***
[ December 13, 2003, 07:58 AM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Morgan sat down beside Todd again. He handed Todd a beer and opened his own. He turned off the television, still portraying naked men in all sorts of interesting positions.
“You still want to talk?”
“Yeah, I really need to.”
“All right, you said that your ex was murdered because of you. What did you mean?”
“It’s my fault.” Todd buried his face in his hands. "My own damn fault."
“Whyis it your fault? It's not like you killed him?” Waitaminute. What if this was “Number1”? Could this guy have murdered Scott? Morgan eyed the letter opener on the coffee table. Casually, he pretended to straighten some magazines and let the sharp instrument slide into his sleeve out of Todd’s sight.
“What? No way, man! I loved Scotty with all my heart! I swore to him that I would love him, always and forever...”
“I’m sorry, that was rude of me. How is all of this your fault then?” He could feel the letter opener against his forearm. Just in case... “I left him. I should never have done that. But I was selfish...”
“Selfish?”
“Yeah, man.”
“If you loved him so much then why did you leave him?”
“I saw him the night he died, at the bar. It was his birthday. I had to see him. I couldn't go another day without him. But when it came down to it, when push came to shove, I couldn’t face him. Not after what I had done. But I think he saw me, so I got the fuck out of there as fast as I could. If I had only stayed...”
“Why did you leave?”
“Because I made a promise long ago that I would never speak to him again.”
“I don’t understand. Who did you promise?”
“I doesn’t matter now, none of it matters. I was a fool.”
Morgan was flabbergasted. None of this was made sense. This Todd guy was rambling on like a loon. He really seemed to be on the edge of some sort of breakdown. What if Todd had gone nuts after seeing Scotty at the bar? Could he have killed him in a rage? But how would that tie in to Lorraine? And why would he need a writer?
“You see,” Todd continued. “Scott and I were very, very happy. He was my life.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I had a pretty serious drug problem before Scotty and I met. I was clean by the time we started seeing each other. But I still owed a lot of money to some really nasty people. They threatened me. And worse. They threatened Scotty.”
“So you broke up with Scotty to protect him from these people?”
“No, nothing that noble.” Todd took another swig from his beer. “Someone else found out about my money problems. They came to me, and told me that they would cover my debt.”
“I take it was a large amount of money?”
“$50,000.”
“Damn, that’s a shitload of cash. There must have been strings attached.”
Todd nodded. “The biggest string in the world...”
“What?”
“My ‘benefactor’ told me he would cover all my debts. That’s true. But in return, I had to leave Scotty forever.”
“Someone wanted you that bad?”
“No.” Todd's eyes welled up. MOrgan felt guilty for pushing him so hard. Then he remembered the letter opener and let it drop unseen behind the sofa's cushion.
“Then why would someone want to break you up enough to spend $50,000?”
“He hated me. He wanted me out of Scotty’s life.”
“Who? Who the hell would do that to someone?”
“His goddam brother, Robert.”
***
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Robert mingled throughout the Harbour. The harsh lights hurt his eyes. It had been many years since he had gone “clubbing”. The music was thumping and the place was packed. Robert could barely make a circle around the club. No one seemed concerned about his resemblance to Scotty, though. At least no one he noticed. But there were so many people there… And that bartender had acted strangely. Robert decided to talk to him again.
“So your name is Marcus?” Robert smiled at the bartender.
“Yeah.” Marcus was busy at the bar, barely paying attention to his customer’s flirtatious nature.
“I have a question for you…”
“I’m a top.” Marcus looked straight into Robert’s eyes.
“What?”
“Never mind, what was your question?” “Why did you act so strange when you saw me?”
“I thought you were someone else.” Marcus seemed more comfortable now.
“Who?” Maybe this was going to be easy, after all. But if this bastard killed his brother, God help him…
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not here.”
“Where then?”
“I get off work in about an hour.”
“You want to go somewhere and talk?” Kaysie would be impressed that he got a lead so quickly. Maybe then she would stop being so damned condescending.
“I don’t even know you.” Another customer tried to push Robert out of the way. Robert held on long enough to finish his conversation. But the natives were getting restless. They wanted their drinks!
“I’m a good listener.” Robert said above the growing crowd.
“Y’know, I think I’ll pass. No offense buddy, but I have customers waiting. Some other time maybe.”
“Sure.” What now? Robert decided to try another approach. “Maybe you knew my brother. We look a lot alike.” The young man directly behind Robert rolled his eyes.
“You have a brother?”
“I did. He’s... gone now.”
“Gone? As in moved away?”
“No.”
“You mean...?”
“My brother is dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. How long ago?
“Not long at all, I’m here to drown my sorrows for a little while. We looked alot alike. Had a lot in common, too.”
“I’m so sorry. Look man, maybe we should talk later.”
“Okay.” Robert was happy. Only half an hour and he’d gotten a big break. This was going to be easy!
“Let me write down my address. Can you meet me around 3:30?”
“Sure.”
“Great. We’ll talk more then.”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
“Robert Maxwell paid you to leave Scotty?” Morgan spoke, incredulous.
“Yeah, he hated that Scotty was gay. Thought it was my fault. And although I wasn’t guilty of that particular “sin”, I knew that being with Scotty was worse for him than being apart. So, I accepted the deal.”
“And you never broke it?”
“No man, I kept my word, but...”
“But what?”
“On Scotty’s birthday, I had decided I was going to come clean.”
“What stopped you?”
“He was at the bar with some pale looking guy.”
“So you thought he had moved on.”
I don’t know. But I didn’t have the nerve to face him. And I couldn’t destroy his family. It would have destroyed him to find out that his brother had done this.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“So you just left?”
“Well, I started to follow Scotty and the pale guy. But I had a damn flat tire.”
“So you didn’t make it there?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Did you find Scotty or not?”
“Man, by the time I got there. He was.. He was...”
“You found him?”
“Yeah.” Todd started sobbing uncontrollably. I saw him there. He was still alive. There was... there was blood everywhere. I rushed over to him. Held him in my arms. He opened his eyes and looked at me.”
“He woke up?” This was bad, Morgan thought.
“He said, `Todd, is that you?’ I nodded at him. He said, ‘Why are you crying?’”
“My God!”
“I told him to hush, I was there now. Everything was going to be all right. He asked me, ‘Always?’ and I replied, ‘Forever...’”
“And then?”
“Then he was gone. I held him for a few minutes and then I heard a noise, someone was at the door, I got scared. I didn’t know what to do, so I covered his body in a sheet, opened the window and left.”
“That must have been his mother. She was the one who found him.”
Todd nodded sadly. He was still crying. “God, I miss him.” Morgan instinctively put his arm around Todd.
“At least you got to tell him goodbye.” Morgan and Todd looked up to see Ryan standing there.
“Ryan, how long have you been here?”
“Long enough.”
“Todd, this is my friend Ryan. There’s something I have to tell you. I’ve been getting email letters from a guy that says he killed Scott.”
“What? Why haven’t you told anyone?”
“You know, we could ask you the same thing. Why didn’t you tell anyone about finding Scott?” Ryan said sharply.
“Ryan!”
“What? He comes in here, gives some sob story and you are all over him. For all you know, he could be the one who killed Scotty and Lorraine. He could be sending you those notes.”
With that, Todd let out a roar and lunged at Ryan. Fists flying, he caught Ryan square in the jaw. Ryan crumpled to the floor, wincing in pain.
“How dare you? You smug bastard, I loved him!” Todd was practically screaming. Morgan held Todd back as Ryan slowly stood up.
“Ryan, I think it’s best if you leave for now.” Morgan looked deep in Ryan's eyes.
“Me? But...”
“We’ll talk later, things are just a little crazy right now.”
“Whatever, I don’t need this shit. I’m outta here...”
“Ryan. don’t...”
“Save it, Morgan. Obviously, you believe this guy.” With that, Ryan stormed out...
“Ryan, wait.” But it was too late. He was gone.
Morgan let Todd go.
“I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that.”
“It’s OK, we’re all under a strain right now. Ryan just needs to cool down.”
“Yeah, I think I need to go too.”
“Are you sure you’re gonna be OK?”
“No.”
“Then stay with me.” Morgan was surprised when the invitation came out of his mouth.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” He wasn't, of course. But he needed someone right now as much as Todd did.
Morgan leaned over and kissed Todd again. The passion between the two was overwhelming and had been building ever since Tood first walked in. Finally, they returned to Morgan's tiny bedroom. They made love not out of anger or hate or desperation, but out of a mutual bond they had forged.
Morgan told himself all of these things, and maybe deep down, part of him believed it. But even further beneath the surface, Morgan ached to be with Ryan, as much as he knew Todd was aching for Scotty.
Afterward, Morgan drifted off to sleep in Todd’s arms. He didn’t hear Todd get out of bed. He didn’t hear the sound of clothes hastily put back on. He didn’t even hear the sound of the front door closing. Morgan heard none of these things. Looking back, he might wonder if anything would be different if he had.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Ryan slammed his car door shut in the Harbour’s parking lot. Unfortunately, since it was so late in the evening, there were very few parking spaces, all of them very far from the club's entrance. He would have to hurry if he wanted to get a drink before last call. He looked at his watch. It was now 2:15. If he hurried in, he would make last call, and hopefully Marcus was working and would give him a double shot. That would relax him.
How dare that Todd punk hit him!
And how dare Morgan allow it? Ryan seethed inside as he sat down at a barstool after paying cover charge to get in. Soon, Marcus sat a shot in front of him.
“Hey Ryan, what’s up?”
“Oh hi, Marc. I’m in a shitty mood.”
“Join the club.”
“You too?”
“Yup, see that guy over there?” Marcus pointed toward Robert Maxwell.
“Yeah, what about him?” Ryan hoped that this wasn't another story about Marcus getting turned down by some guy.
“Why the fuck would you want to do that? I don't think he's even gay!"
“Listen, there is some stuff going down that I can’t tell you about right now. But Morgan is in trouble, and I need to talk to this guy.”
“About the murder?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck, what do you and Morgan have to do with all of this?”
“I can’t explain right now, but things are getting fucked up.”
“Are you OK?”
“No, but I will be. Do me a favor, introduce us. I really need to talk to him.”
“I don’t think that a good idea, Ryan.” Marcus would give in, he always did.
“Why not?"
"Look, there’s some stuff I need to tell you too. Stuff about...”
“Marcus, we'll talk later, I promise! I’m sorry, but there is a lot riding me talking to this guy. I guess I could just go up and introduce myself.”
“OK.” Marcus sighed, gesturing for Robert. Robert walked over to greet them. So this was the homophobic bastard that kept Scoty and Todd apart. At least according to Todd.
“Hello, I'm Robert. And you are?”
“Name's Ryan.” Ryan knew that he shouldn't be so cryptic, but he couldn't help it. Morgan was just about the only person he trusted at this point, and now, Ryan even doubted that!
“What is this all about? Why are you looking at me like I killed your cat?”
“I need to talk to you about your brother.” Robert's face changed. He scowled, looking at Marcus.
“You told him?”
“Sorry guy, I guess I wasn’t thinking. Marcus was only half paying attention as the rush of last call, gave him a large line of custoemr's wanting their last drink of the night.
Robert turns to Ryan. “Well, what can I do for you?”
Ryan walked away from the bar. “Come here for a second. I think we need to have a long talk about your brother’s murder.”
“You've got my attention, guy. I’m all ears.”
“OK, but you know, this will be easier if I get my friend. I’ll call him and have him join us.” Ryan reached in his jacket. “Dammit! My cell phone is in my car. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait. What do you know about my brother?” Robert was getting angry, Ryan could sense it. He turned around, quickly answering.
“More than I want to at this point. Most importantly, I know about you and Todd.” Ryan could have kicked himself the moment he said that, that was too much information to be giving out at this point.
“You what?”
“Never mind. Listen, it will be easier to explain when I call my friend. We can explain it to you together.” Ryan hurried out of the bar.
*** Ryan’s mind was racing. So much information was running through his head, too much for him to process. How could he sort it all out? There were just so damn many possibilities. Did Janus kill Scotty? Or Todd? What about Robert? Ryan thought that if he sat down to think, maybe he could piece it all together.
And there was something else, some other piece that was right there, just beyond reach. What exactly was Marcus trying to tell him? And then it hit him, Marcus was probably working the night Scotty was killed. He must have seen Janus, and maybe even Todd! Was that was Marcus was trying to say? If so, then he could be in danger too!
Shit. This was all too much to take. Morgan would know what to do. He always did. But that fucking Todd guy was there. Ryan didn’t know why, but he didn’t trust Todd. Was he jealous? Was that it? Well, right now, all he could do was call Morgan and sort the rest out later. He hadn’t even had the chanceto tell Morgan about Janus yet.
Ryan started to run toward his car. Finally he got there, it was quiet on this side of the parking lot. He fumbled for his keys and unlocked the car door. He reached in for his cell phone. He jumped as it rang.
“Hello?”
“Is Reata there?”
“Ummm, I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.”
“OK, bye.”
“Bye.”
Ryan took a deep breath. He was jumping at shadows. Calming himself, he dialed Morgan’s number. No answer.
Dammit.
The answering machine clicked on. Ryan was about to begin speaking as he slowly turned turned around, startled by a small noise. A figure was standing there, dressed all in black. He saw something shiny in the figure’s hands. In one fluid movement, the object was racing toward him. Ryan tried to avoid it. He was only partly successful as the gleaming object penetrated his left shoulder. He dropped the phone and shrieked in pain. He figure removed the knife and was about the strike again as Ryan kicked him in the groin. Ryan began to run, clutching his bloody shoulder as he tried to escape.
Ryan struggled for air as he ran toward the bar. He could see the lights from the dance floor pulsating. If he could just make it to the front door, everything would be fine. But the stranger was gaining on him. "Oh the hell with it!", he thought. He turned around, facing his attacker. His vision was blurry as sweat dripped down from his forehead. His jaw sore from the punch and his shoulder screaming in pain from the knife. If this was going to be his last stand, he was going down with a fight. The stranger rushed at him but Ryan dodged as the figure in black lunged, missing Ryan and barrellig into him into a car door. The stranger staggered, apparently stunned. Ryan used to opportunity to punch the stranger in the gut. The dark figure keeled over and Ryan unmasked his foe, revealing the face of the would-be murderer.
“So it’s you,” Ryan stared blankly. The figure used Ryan's moment of revelation as an opportunity to lunge at Ryan again with the bloodied knife. Ryan could feel the could feel the cold steel plunge into his gut. He saw the figure standing over him and then a bright light. Mercifully, darkness took him then.
Posted by Nightcrawler on :
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Things aren't looking so good right now, are they? More surprises to come! Another attack, a revelation, a confession of love, and a bomb????
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kaysie pulled into the parking lot after her meeting with Bette, trying to find a place to park. She wondered how Robert had fared inside the Harbour. She really should check in with the paper, she thought to herself.
In the distance, she saw someone running from another dark figure. In the distance, she could see their struggle. This could get violent, she thought as she quickly swerved her car as close as she could get to them. She blocked several other cars in the process.
By the time Kaysie arrived, only one of the two strangers was standing. As the prone figure noticed her approaching, he quickly ran away toward the entrance of the Harbor.
To no avail, she yelled for the man to stop. Maybe he’s gonna call for help, she thought. Then she looked down at the bleeding figure.
“Oh no, it’s happened again!” Her eyes darted to the numeral 3 written in blood on the man’s forehead. She leaned her ear against his chest. He was still breathing! She reached for her cell phone and dialed 911. As she did this, a crowd began to gather around her. Many of them were complaining about being blocked in. Kaysie paid little attention to them.
Please make it, she thought. Please don't die...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Janus walked slowly into the Evanston Police Station. He calmly made his way past several officers leaving, presumably going off duty as the next shift began their duties.
He stopped one of them, a tall, thin man with blue eyes and a shaved head. He looked into the man's eyes and and spoke. The words were difficult, but Janus had to confess.
"It's my fault," he told the officer. "Because of me, Scott maxwell is dead..." With those simple words, Janus, aka Zachary Hall, took at his revolver.
The bald man tried to stop him, deflecting Janus' arm, but the shot was fired. The bullet grazed Janus' temple and as he drifted away into unconsciousness, thought to himself. "I can't even kill myself right..."
***
The Harbour was filled with people, Kaysie noticed as she fially made her way back in. She looked around but Robert was nowhere to be found. She hoped that he hadn't given up on her. She had gone with the ambulance to take the stab victim to the hospital.
Eventually, Marcus emerged from a storeroom with a case of ice. He dumped the ice in a metal bin.
“May I have a Bottled Water please?” Kaysie asked. She noticed that Marcus winced as he bent down. “Hey, You ok, guy?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little sore from working out today.”
“I see,” Kaysie responded. He really didn’t look like he worked out very often at all. She noticed several scratches on his arm as well. “Have you seen the guy I came in with earlier?” “You mean, Robert?”
“Yeah, you’ve talked to him?” Wow. Robert had made progress. Amazing.
“Yup, but I don’t know where he is now. A friend of mine wanted to talk to him about something, but now I don’t see either one of them.”
“That’s strange. Why would a friend of yours want to talk to him?” Kaysie took a sip of bottled water as she looked around the room. Finally, she spotted Robert in a dark corner. “There you are!”
“Yeah, here I am.”
“That bartender, Marcus. He said a friend of his wanted to talk to you. Did you speak with the guy? Why did he want to talk to you?”
“I don't know, Kaysie. He went outside to get his cell phone and never came back in. He said he had to call a friend of his and they would both explain everything. I’m not sure exactly what's going on.”
“That’s strange.”
“Yeah, I think so too. But you know what? I think that Marcus over there knows something. I’m supposed to talk to him after his shift is over.”
“Really?" Kaysie paused. It was time to drop a bomb... "Robert, I don’t know how to tell you this. They... they found another body tonight.”
“What??!!!!! Where??”
“Right here, in the parking lot.”
“So he’s dead?”
“How did you know it was a ‘he’”?
“Oh, I didn't. But look around here! I just assumed...”
“Well, your assumption was right.”
“Who was he?”
“His name was Ryan Womble.”
“Dammit. When is this going to end?”
“Good question.” Kaysie stared blankly at Robert. “So we are gonna go meet this Marcus guy?”
“No. I’m going alone.”
“No way! I found out tonight that Marcus knew Lorraine Petersen. He might very well be the killer.”
“Please, he’s not going to hurt me. I can take care of myself.”
“You know, I’m sure that’s what your brother thought too...”
“That’s a low blow, Kaysie.”
“I don’t have time to be nice. Lives are at stake.”
“Seriously, Kaysie. I don’t think this kid is our man...”
Kaysie sighed, “Fine, have it your way. I have another lead to follow-up on, anyway. We will meet back up tomorrow morning.”
“OK, what time?”
“About 11. I have to get a column written. I’ll stop by when I’m done.”
“You got it. I’m going to go tell Marcus there has been another killing.”
“No, not yet. The media has been asked to keep a lid on it for now. Besides, he might clam up.”
“If you say so.”
“Trust me.” *** Morgan awoke with a start. He looked over at his answering machine. It was blinking indicating that someone had left a message. He hadn’t even heard the damn thing ring. Must have been a sound sleep, he thought. And then he looked over, and realized that Todd was gone! A feeling of dread overwhelmed him as he remembered Todd and Ryan’s earlier encounter.
Morgan pushed the play button on the machine and froze as he listened.
He could hear a shuffling in the background. And then, a shriek followed by a loud thud. Silence. Finally, a busy signal, signaled the end of the message. What the hell had happened? Ryan?
Dammit! If only he hadn’t let Ryan leave. If only he hadn’t been so consumed with this Todd guy. If only...
Quickly, Morgan signed online, dreading what he might find. To his surprise and relief, there were no new e-mails. He shut off the computer and contemplated his next move. He tried Ryan’s cell phone. No answer. What the hell had happened? Morgan jumped at a knock coming from his door. He quickly put on a robe and answered it.
A beautiful woman stood at the other side of the door.
“Morgan Cramer?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Kaysie Dupris. I think you and I need to have a little talk.”
“What about?”
“I have some news about a friend of yours.”
“What?”
“You do know a Ryan Womble, right?”
“Uhhh, yeah. What about him?"
“You might want to sit down, Mr. Cramer.”
[ December 17, 2003, 04:06 PM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Fat Cramer on :
Oh no!!! Where's the rest?
Poor Scott! Poor Lorraine! Poor Ryan! Will Robert find redemption for his guilt? Does he even deserve it? Can Todd forgive himself? Is the murderer really the murderer, or is another game afoot?
It's been a great read, Danny Blaine. Very captivating.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
More soon...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Robert entered Marcus’ third story brownstone apartment, as Marcus set his keys on a table in the dining room. He took off his jacket, motioning for Robert to do the same. Then he walked to the fridge.
“I'm thirsty? Want a beer?”
“Why the hell not? One more tonight isn’t gonna kill me.”
Marcus returned, handing Robert the cold brew. They both opened the longneck bottles and took a swig.
“Why don’t you tell me about the night my brother came the bar.” It was time to get to the point. Robert tried to hide his discomfort. He wanted this over with. No more games...
“Well, it started off a quiet night. See, the bar doesn't really get busy until almost midnight. But your brother got there pretty early. He seemed pretty impatient. I don’t know what he was waiting for.”
“That would be me. I got held up at work.” Robert looked down.
“Oh.” Marcus said, obviously noticing Robert’s guilt. “Anyway, after a couple drinks, some pale guy I had never seen before approached him. I’ll admit it, I thought your brother was cute so I was a little jealous of this guy. But the two of them seemed to hit it off real well, and eventually, they left together.”
"Was anyone else in the bar?"
"A few people. As it got later, more people showed up, by the time they left, we started getting fairly busy."
“And you don’t know the guy Scott left with. I assume the police know all of this.”
“Yeah. They had me sit with a sketch artist. But for some reason, none of the drawings she did looked quite right. I can’t explain it.”
“OK, so that’s it?”
“No. There’s more.”
“What?”
“Well, like I said, I was really jealous of the two of them. Don’t ask me why I did this, I couldn’t tell ya. I heard them say they were going to campus, so as soon as my relief got there, I tried to find them.”
“You followed them? Did you find them?” Robert asked suspiciously. Why would this guy chase my brother across town if he didn't know him?
“Not exactly. The campus was pretty bare, I guess there was a break. But finally, I saw a light coming from one of the dorm rooms. I snuck up to the window and I looked inside.”
“Why in the hell would you do that?” This guy was a stalker! Robert's anger grew.
“I don’t know, something inside me wanted to protect your brother from that guy. I didn’t trust him. I had to know he was alright. There was something about him...”
“Yeah, I know. Scotty was special.” That was a good explanatin but Robert still didnt' quite buy it...
“So I looked in the window and I saw them together... They were...”
“What?”
Marcus sighed. “That guy was giving your brother a blow job.”
Roberts’s eyes narrowed. He was furious with this kid. How dare he say Scotty was behaving so badly. But somehow, Robert held it in. “Continue,” he sighed.
“Well, seeing that kinda upset me, so I started to walk away. I walked back to my car. But then, I heard a crash. So I started to run back toward the room. But then I got scared that I would get caught, so I decided to leave again.”
“So let me get this straight. You got scared and left. While my poor brother was fighting for his life?”
“Yeah, I did. Look, I feel bad enough already. I liked him. Something inside me. I don’t know. I don’t believe in love at first site, but... I wanted to get to know Scotty.”
“So you just left?”
“Yeah. But...”
“What? What are you leaving out?”
Marcus took a deep breath. “God knows why but I got about a mile down the road and I knew I had to go back. I guess it had been about 20 minutes because I stopped and got a beer at the gas station. One of those big bottles. When I got back there, I sat in my car trying to work up the nerve to go in and talk to him. Then the lights in his window went out. I was just about to leave again when I saw someone crawling out of your brother’s window. I couldn’t make out anyone in particular. It was a guy, but that’s about all I could tell you about them. He ran around the backside of the building. And then the lights went back on. A few seconds later, I heard a scream. It was a woman’s. I sat there for a few more minutes. But then nothing else happened. I thought everything was ok, so I left.”
“So the guy crawling out the window, was it the pale guy?”
“I don’t think so, unless he changed clothes. I have no idea who that was.”
“Wait. You’re telling me someone else was there?”
“Yes. I guess your mom scared them away.”
“But I got there about then. I should have seen him leaving.”
“Well, I didn’t see YOU either.”
“Oh, I know why. I came in the back door.” “You must have just missed him then. Since he was running around the back.”
“I guess so. So tell me, did you know Lorraine Petersen?”
“Laney? Yeah, she and Bette came into the bar all the time. We were in the GLIC together.”
“So you knew both of the murder victims.” Robert looked harshly at Marcus.
“Listen man, I’m really sorry about what happened. I wish I had gone back there. Maybe I could have done something.” Marcus started crying. All he could do was repeat “I’m sorry.” over his sobs. Robert found himself instinctively taking the guy in his arms. Marcus looked up at him, and kissed him.
Robert froze. He didn’t know what to do. He felt Marcus’ tongue part his lips. He seemed powerless to stop himself as he responded. In the back of his mind, a familiar voice grew louder.
“That’s it, bro! Fuck him!”
Scotty? Robert seemed powerless as the taunts grew louder.
“Oh, look at the sissy boy! Isn't that what you thought I was? And why? Because you are just like me! A little sissy boy!.”
This wasn’t happening. Robert felt Marcus rubbing his crotch. The voices continued as Robert’s erection grew painfully hard against his clothes. “ Robert found himself responding by returning the passionate kisses.
“Go on! Fuck him! I would! He’s hot! Do him now!”
“No!” Robert screamed as he stood up. He ran to the door and looked back toward a shocked Marcus. “I’m sorry, I have to leave now. Thank you for telling me about that night."
And then, Robert ran as fast as he could. He needed air, he needed to breath. His chest was pounding as he reached his car. He fumbled for the keys, and finally slumped into the driver's seat, resting his head against the steering wheel.
After the pain in his chest subsided, Robert looked up.
"You blew it!" Scotty said. Robert looked into the rear view mirror and saw Scotty's eyes staring back at him. "You wanted him. Admit it!"
Tears streamed down Robert's face.
"I... I wanted him..." Robert could hear his brother's maniacal laughter as he sat there, sobbing like a baby.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kaysie and Morgan rushed to the hospital, with Kaysie at the whell of her Black Focus. Morgan stared out the passenger side, staring into the night.
Earlier, Morgan had bared his soul to Kaysie, telling her about everything that had happened since the arrival of "Number 1". She had said nothing about it as he told his story, but now seemed ready to offer her opinion.
“Well, your story explains why the killer told me he had a ‘muse’ of his own." she began. "I didn’t understand what that meant.”
“Wait! He talked to you?” Morgan was dumbfounded.
“Yeah.”
“Were you scared?”
“Terrified.”
“Me too. I thought I was all alone in all of this. Then Ryan made me tell him, and now... It’s all my fault.” Morgan's voice trailed off.
“No. What happened to Ryan was not because of you. There is a sick bastard out there. I would have told someone too.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” That was a lie. But there was no sense for Morgan to feel any worse right now. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
“I have to be. Ryan doesn’t have any family here. I’m the only one who can...”
“You loved him.”
“You know what, I did. I always just kinda took him for granted. I mean, deep down, I knew. But I loved that man with all my heart. And now, now I’ll never get to tell him that.”
“You can tell him when we get there.”
“It’s not the same. He’s not in there anymore, that’s just a body.”
“Morgan, there’s something I have to tell you, but you can’t tell anyone...”
“What?”
“Ryan...”
Just then, Kaysie’s cell phone rang.
“Kaysie?”
“Yes Bob,” she said, recognizing the squeaky voice. “I’m kinda busy right now. What’s up?”
“Miss Dupris, a package has arrived for you. I think it’s a clock.”
“A clock?” Why would someone send a clock? Unless... “Oh my God, Bob is it ticking?”
“Ms. Dupris, sometimes you are so silly. Why else would I say I think it’s a clock?”
“Bob, get the hell out of there, now!”
“But Miss Dupris. I...”
“Now, Bob! Is anyone else there with you?”
“No, just us chickens.”
“Get out of there!”
“OK OK. You don’t have to tell me twice. Oh wait, you already did. Sorry.”
“Good. Meet me at the Corinthian Hospital.”
“OK I’m on my way.”
Kaysie disconnected the call and quickly dialed 911. “Yes, I’d like to report a possible bomb threat at the Evanston Herald. Yes, I'll hold...”
Posted by Invisible Brainiac on :
And the plot thickens! Great work, Danny!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Marcus paced his living room floor. He walked back and forth many times before finally slumping down on his couch. He tried to relax but his encounter with Robert left him uneasy. He turned on the television and looked at the news. The only thing that caught his interest was a news report on the murders. There had been another attack the night before, Marcus learned. And then he saw a picture of Ryan on the screen! He had been the killer’s latest victim! The attack must have happened when he went to his car to get his phone. Marcus wondered what was so important that Ryan had to talk to Robert about? What had Ryan learned? And if the murder was at the Harbour, why didn't he hear about it last night?
He flicked the TV off and was about to go to bed when the phone rang. Picking it up, he was confronted with only dead air. Must have been a wrong number. He placed the phone on the receiver when suddenly it rang again. Marcus jumped.
“Hello,” he answered, slightly agitated.
“Hello,” the voice was distorted.
“Who is this?”
“Who is this?” The voice mocked.
Marcus slammed the phone down. It rang again. He stared at it as if willing it to stop ringing. It rang a full 8 times, then it stopped. Marcus sighed in relief. But then it started again, ringing twice before ceasing. Marcus hesitantly removed the receiver from the headset as if it were a snake and threw it onto the couch. There, that should be the end of it. He wandered toward his bedroom and turned out the light, falling onto the bed. He wrapped himself in his comforter and tried to force his mind to stop racing. Had he bothered to lock the door after Robert had so abruptly left?
Surely he had. But why was it still bothering him? He tossed and turned and finally, mercifully, drifted off to sleep. THe darkness outside was preparing to give way to daylight...
An indiscernible time later, a noise from the living room brought Marcus back from dreamland. A loud crash echoed in his head. Had he dreamed it? No. He could hear footsteps approaching the bedroom door. Still groggy, he instinctively stuffed the sheets with pillows to make it look as if he were still sleeping soundly. He then maneuvered under the bed just in time for the door to the bedroom to open ever so slowly. The door creaked, one of the loudest sound Marcus could ever remember hearing. Then Marcus saw a pair of feet standing at the side of the bed. He felt the impact as something came down hard against the bed. Marcus stifled a scream and held his hand over his mouth. Tears ran down his eyes as the force came down upon the bed several more times. Quickly, he rolled to the other side of the bed, trying not to make a sound. If he could just reach his nightstand drawer, he thought...
Marcus had always had a gun since he moved out on his own. Growing up in a military family, he had been around the weapons all of his life. He learned to shoot at the age of 16 when his dad bought him his first pistol. Just in case, Dad always said. Marcus never thought he’d be in a situation where he’d need one, but as the impact against the bed grew stronger, he knew this was his “just in case.”
Finally getting his courage up, Marcus reached the nightstand and quickly reached for the drawer handle. In a continuously fluid movement, he opened the drawer, got the gun, stood up and aimed at his intruder. Face to face with a figure in all black, Marcus had no idea who it was he was dealing with. The figure was masked. Could be anyone, he thought. He took a deep breath before he spoke.
“Alright, you motherfucker, put your hands up. Now!” The figure remained motionless. “I said now!” Slowly, the dark figure raised its arms into the air. Marcus saw a large blade in the right hand. “Drop the knife.”
As the knife fell to the floor, the doorbell rang.
“Who is it?” Marcus called out, not taking his eyes off the intruder.
“Marcus, it’s me. Your landlady, Miss Alicia. I heard a crash, are you alright in there?”
“Alicia, call the police.” He kept his gun pointed at the intruder.
“Marcus?”
“Just do it!”
“I already did.” Suddenly, the figure ran toward the bay window leading out to the balcony, crashing through it. Slivers of glass exploded outward. Marcus ran to the balcony but cut his left foot on a shard of broken glass. He shrieked in agony as Miss Alicia came running into the bedroom. Only sparing a second to glance at her, he again stumbled toward the balcony. The figure was long gone. He must have gone down the fire escape.
Marcus returned to his bedroom. Miss Alicia was holding a playing card in her hands. It was the 4 of Spades. Number 4...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
At 6:30 am, Corinthian Hospital was abuzz with activity. Kaysie and Morgan made their way past the emergency room to the elevators that would lead them to ICU. Kaysie pressed the “up” button as Morgan just looked at her in amazement.
“I can’t believe what you just told me, it’s amazing.”
“Remember, not a word.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Right now, I’m more worried about this bomb threat. Bob should have been here by now.”
“How many lives is this psycho going to ruin?”
Kaysie didn’t have a chance to answer him because the elevator door finally opened indicating it was ready to take them up.
“Are you ready for this?”
“Yeah.” ***
Robert emerged from his bed in the hotel and fetched for his robe. He glanced at the clock. God, it was early. He had only slept a couple of hours but he felt as rested as if he had slept a full eight. Then the events of the night before washed over him. He almost had sex with Marcus last night! And Scotty... He heard his voice, encouraging him... What was that about?
There was a loud knocking on the door.
“Maxwell! I know you’re in here. Open the fuckin’ door!”
“What the hell?” Robert knew that voice but couldn’t place it. He hadn’t heard it in a long time. And then, he knew... “Todd McAllister...”
Robert opened the door to the man he never wanted to see again. This was the man who started the events in motion. The man who took away the Scotty he loved. The hatred swelled in Robert as he stared at his.
Todd said nothing as he walked in past Robert. Robert closed the door behind him as Todd punched him hard in the mouth. Robert winced, falling to the floor. Todd kicked Robert in the gut as he struggled for air.
“This is all your damn fault! You and your goddam homophobia!”
Robert gasped for breath as Todd stared down at him. “Wh - what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about what you did to keep me and Scotty apart. None of this would have happened if you hadn’t interfered. None of it.”
“McAllister, if I hadn’t... If I hadn’t done what I did, you would be dead now.”
“Get off your fuckin' high horse, dude. Are you God? Do you have all the answers? Can you see into the future?”
“But the loan sharks, they would have killed you. And maybe Scotty too.”
“Well, look where we are now. Scotty’s dead anyway. You didn’t give us a chance to work things out together! You had to play God!”
“You didn’t have to take the money.” Robert reached for the dressing table and slowly, used it as leverage to pull himself up.
“But you knew I would. You knew I loved Scotty enough to give him up. What I don’t get is if you knew that, why couldn’t you see how real our love was?”
“I was wrong. I know that now. Maybe this is my fault. All of it...”
“Too little. Too late. People around us are dropping like flies. And somehow, somehow it’s all connected to Scotty.”
“More than you know.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Todd's eyes blazed.
Robert turned away from Todd for a moment.
“Answer me, dammit! Don't you dare turn your back to me!”
Todd lunged toward Robert, turning him around. Robert struck Todd in the head with a lamp that had been sitting on the dresser that Robert used to pull himself up. Todd fell to the floor, silent...
“Five..,” Robert whispered, an eerie grin on his face…
Posted by Harbinger on :
What???
oh my gawd!
more soon please Danny!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
I'm going away for New Years. I will try to post more when I return on Friday!
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
you tease, I see your name at the top there, you have no excuses so wheres the rest? C'mon sweetheart, stop being coy now ....
Have a groovy Hogmanay Mattie
Kxx
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Morgan entered the room slowly. Kaysie had waited outside, talking to Bob Myler, who had finally shown up at the hospital. In front of him was Ryan. He was so still, attached by wires and tubes to several machines. But he was alive! Morgan lifted Ryan’s hand and held it.
“Ryan, it’s Morgan. I’m so sorry about all of this. It shouldn’t have happened to you. It’s all my fault. I know that you would tell me to shut up right now if you could. You would say that you were the one who got yourself into all this, not me. But deep down, be both know that’s not true. And then, and then I was stupid enough to be with that Todd guy last night right in the middle of all of this. You must have hated me then. And you know what, I wouldn’t blame you. I was an asshole. You were out doing God knows what trying to save our lives. And the sad thing is, you payed the price for my foolishness, not me. I would give anything if I were lying there in that bed, not you Ryan. Never you. Because Ryan, I love you...”
“I love you too, Morgan.” Ryan spoke, his voice weak. Kaysie had told Morgan that Ryan wasn’t dead. She had found him in the parking lot and he was still breathing. The ambulance came quickly and carted him off. They had worked feverishly all night to save his life. He was going to be fine. But he was still weak, coming off all that surgery. The doctors had warned him that Ryan would sleep for hours. So Morgan was understandably shocked when Ryan started speaking. “I didn’t realize it until I saw you with that guy. I love you. I always have. And I always will. Forever.”
Tears streamed down Morgan’s face as Ryan drifted back to sleep.
***
Kaysie stood in the hallway talking to a police officer. Unfortunately, this was the same officer who she had encountered at the cemetery. She was sure he recognized her although he didn’t mention it.
“Miss Dupris, the Bomb Squad went to the Herald and opened that box that Mr. Myler here said came for you.”
“And?”
“It was a clock.”
“Oh. Was there a note?”
“No, but...”
“But what, officer?”
“It was covered in blood.”
“I see. I assume you are checking to see who it belongs to?”
“Yes, ma'am. I would say that someone wants you off of this story.”
“Really? What was your first clue?”
“Sarcasm isn’t necessary Miss Dupris. This guy means business.”
“I know that. I was the one who found that poor boy in there, remember?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ah know that.” Kaysie caught the accent. The offices was trying to be a smart ass. She would ignore him.
“Good.”
At that exact moment, Morgan emerged from the room behind them. Kaysie pulled him to the side. “How is he?”
“He woke up! The doctor’s are in there with him now. They say he will be fine if he rests and takes it easy.”
“Did he say anything about who did this?”
“No. I don’t think he remembers exactly what happened to him yet.”
“That may be for the best right now.”
“Any word on the bomb?”
“False alarm. But I do think our killer was trying to tell me something.”
“Would you like to give me a ride back to my place and see if I’ve gotten any more messages?”
“That sounds like a plan. But are you sure you don’t wanna stay here?”
“There’s nothing I can do for Ryan here. He needs his rest. The best thing I can do for him right now is to help you.”
“Let’s go then, I have a feeling this is all about to come to a head.”
“You think it’s...”
“It doesn’t matter what I think yet. We need proof.”
“Well, after what I found out from Todd, I’m pretty sure that we both know who’s doing this.
“Pretty sure doesn’t cut it. We have to know.” ***
Ryan knew he was dreaming. He knew that he was in a hospital. He knew he was safe. That didn’t make him feel any safer as he saw the images of the previous night playing in his mind like a movie he couldn’t turn off. He saw himself running from a man with a knife. He saw himself as the knife pierced his skin. He saw as he pulled off his attacker’s mask and revealed the face of the man responsible for this. He saw... Robert Maxwell. Ryan closed in on Robert’s eyes. These were the eyes of a madman. Ryan was afraid. Very afraid. The images played over and over again in his mind. The drugs were making him sleep, he knew that too. There would be no release from this nightmare anytime soon.”
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
bump
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
Matt you sexy thing, is there more coming soon?
pleeeeease......
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Yes, more is coming soon! Exactly when I cannot say. I think it's a great cliffhanger, don't you?
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
I think you're a tease Matt!
Not that that's necessarily a bad thing....
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Robert carried Todd's lifeless body out of his room over his shoulder. He had taken great pains to wrap the dead man in a tarp.
"Make sure no one sees you," said the voice of Scott Maxwell. The voice of course, was coming entirely from Robert's head.
"I know, I know. Damn, he's heavy!"
"Just get the job done, you idiot..."
Robert finally stashed Todd in the trunk of his vehicle. Opening the door of his car, he looked at the package that was on the passenger's seat. At first glance, it looked like any other beer box, empty beer bottles placed in their accompanying slots. But underneath, was a deadly surprise.
He had hinted at it to Kaysie. He had sent a clock to the Newspaper office, but this time, it was the deal deal. The patrons of the Harbour tonight won't know what hit them. Robert smiled at himself in the rearview mirror, his younger brother's face smiling back at him...
"Little brother, no one is going to hurt you again. I'll see to that. It's all their fault anyway, if they hadn't turned you into..."
His voice trailed off as Scott's face vanished, replaced with his own."
"Wait Scotty, please don't go." He was practically begging. "Stay With Me. Please?"
Nothing...
***
***
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Marcus had to open the Harbour doors at 7:00pm. He was running late and had much prep work today before the bar could open. He had thought about calling in sick, but he didn;t want to sit alone in his apartment. Besides, what if the killer came back to finish him off? He was much safer at the Harbour, he decided.
There was a box of empty beer bottles sitting outside. The owner of the Harbour, Louis Lattimore, mustv'e taken the beer home and dropped them off to be returned with the other empties. He picked the box up, and carried it inside...
***
After Morgan returned from the hospital, he crashed on his sofa. Kaysie had instructed him to get some rest then check his computer for any new nessages. She was going to do some more digging and would meet him at the Harbour later.
Of course the killer had left another message:
Writestuff: You made a very big mistake, Morgan. I told you not to tell anyone and what did you do? You told your little friend Ryan everything! By now, you know that I have taken care of your little friend. He put up a good fight, but no one will stop me! I want you to write about your friend and what I did to him, how I saved him. I will be waiting.
In the meantime, I have decided to step up my plans. I am no longer content with my previous methods. Something drastic is in order. You will soon see what I mean.
Morgan finished reading the message and pounded his fist hard on the table. When was this all going to end?
***
Kaysie knocked on Robert's door loudly.
"Robert, it's Kaysie! We have to talk." She could hear movement inside and something else, too. Voices?
Finally, Robert answered. He smiled at her as he opened the hotel room's door.
"Kaysie! What a surprise!" Robert deadpanned. "What can I do for you?"
"Ummm, I thought I heard voices in here."
"Voices? Oh, I had the TV on."
"That must've been it," she said, looking around. "Listen, we need to talk."
"Yes, I think we do." Robert smiled at Kaysie, not the kind of warm, invitig smile that made you feel comfortable. No, this was an eerie cheshire grin.
***
Posted by Harbinger on :
You scare me Matt!
And it's great!
more more more
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Morgan decided that he should go talk with Marcus. The killer had not left him any more instructions and he completed his story on Ryan. He had left out the part about Ryan still being alive, of course. He would not place Ryan in any more danger.
He went into his bedroom and changed clothes. The Harbour would be packed tonight, as there was a concert at the arena. After events like that, the clubs always had more traffic. Morgan wanted to get there early to avoid the rush and get a good parking space.
Hopefully, Marcus wasn't too busy yet.
***
Marcus managed to get the bar ready to open on time. He even had a few minutes to spare. He sat back, made himself a vodka tonic and watch music videos on the main screen.
He hoped that the craziness of the last few days would be over soon. That Scotty kid had really gotten to him. For some reason, Marcus felt as if he had lost his soulmate, although he had only talked to Scotty that one time.
Whoever killed that kid and the others was still out there. The bar owner knew what was going on and had considered closing the Harbour until the killer was caught, but all the employees encouraged him not too, including Marcus. No reason to live in fear, they all said. The owner agreed, but warned them all to be careful.
But Marcus had a made a decision. When all of this died down, he was going back to school to finish his degree in electrical engineering at Hughes Hill.
He had left school, telling his parents and anyone who would listen that he was "finding himself". Marcus knew that was bogus.
He left school because he was lazy and wanted to find an easy way. He was partying and trying to pick up guys and that interfered with his class schedule. Being a bartender allowed Marcus to work as well as continue his philandering ways.
But what had it gotten him? He was still alone.
[ January 11, 2004, 01:33 PM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kaysie nervously sat on the bed. What would Robert say? Did he know she was on to him?
She had suspected from the beginning. There were little telltale clues all along. Little things that would not prove anything. But more than that, it was a gut feeling she had. So she pushed him. Was that a mistake? Had she gone too far? She pushed him into going "undercoving", revisiting the scene of the crime, so to speak.
And after everything that Morgan and Ryan had found out about Todd McAllister, everything fell into place. And now, she was sitting alone in a room with a likely serial killer...
"So are you ready for your next assignment?" Kaysie asked, hoping that she wouldn't sound as nervous as she was.
"Assignment? Surely you are kidding."
"Uh no! We still haven't gotten anywhere yet."
"Cut the crap, Kaysie," he said he name slowly and heavily accented both syllables. The sounds of a crazy man. That's when she noticed, really noticed his appearance. Robert's hair was disheveled, his clothes rumpled. Not at all the dapper Robert Maxwell she was used to.
"What do you mean?"
"The game's over, Miss DuPris. We both know that you know the truth."
"What truth is that?"
"My brother's murderer will never be caught," Robert exclaimed.
"OF course he will," Kaysie shifted gears. "I have to believe that we can catch this person."
"No, it's hopeless." RObert said sadly. "No one can do it. No one can stop him."
"How do you know?"
"I just do. Now if you'll excuse me, Miss DuPris, I think I want to be alone."
"O-of course," she said, relieved. "Please call me if you need anything."
"I don't think you'll be hearing from me any further." He opened the door to let Kaysie out. "I really hope you are right and they catch this bastard."
Kaysie nodded as she hurried out the door.
***
Posted by Harbinger on :
Run Kaysie, run!
I love your work Matt
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Robert looked in the mirror, as his own visage was replaced once again.
"You let her go? You idiot. She knows!"
"She doesn't know anything. Leave her alone."
"Awwww, do you have a sweet tooth for the pretty thing? Forget it. You killed me and you killed Todd, not to mention all the others. You have to go after her. I'm taking over now and I say KILL THE FUCKING BITCH!"
"No, I won't do it."
"Not even for me, big brother. Don't you owe it to me?"
"I-I, okay. I'll do it." Robert slammed the door behind his hotel room.
***
Posted by Invisible Brainiac on :
Oh. My. Gosh.
I can hardly wait!
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
Matt you have to get cracking on this as the an....ti.... ci.....................pation is killing me!
More soon please....
Kx
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kaycie hurried out of the hotel so fast that she didn't realize that she left her car keys inside Robert's room. Should she go back and get them? As she raced down the stairway, she could hear Robert's voice.
"Wait up!" She wondered if she should.
No, something was very strange about Robert now. Kaysie had a feeling that if she went back in there now, she wouldn't get out alive.
But where would she go? She called Morgan on her cell phone while still ducking through shadowy alleys and buildings.
"Morgan? It's me, Kaysie. Pick up the phone!"
For a long time there was no answer, the Morgan picked up. "Kaysie, where are you?"
"Listen, I think I'm in trouble. Robert is acting very strangely. I went to visit him, but I think he's sorry he let me go. I think he's coming after me!"
"Oh my God. Get the fuck out of there! Get in your car and GO!"
"I can't, I was in such a hurry that I left my goddam keys in his room." she whispered as she continued her trek. It was growing darker outside now. The shadows were looming and Kaysie was entering into a part of town she didn't know well.
"Oh shit! Is he following you?"
"I don't know. He very well might be."
"Listen, I'm coming to get you. What street are you on?"
"I'm not sure, somewhere east of the cathedral."
Kaysie looked up, at the other end of the alley she could see the silhouette of a man. He was coming closer. "Oh fuck," she cried, as she began to run.
"Kaysie, Kaysie... what's going on????"
Kaysie knew she would have to turn the phone off if she was going to find a hiding place. She prayed that Morgan would find her before Robert did...
Posted by Harbinger on :
I like Kaysie Matt, please don't kill her.
Unless the story demands it of course
As usual you keep me coming back for more more more.
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kill Kaysie? She's the star of the story. I wouldn't kill her off, would I?
Hehehehehehehehehehehe.
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
Oh just kill her Matt, so long as you continue with the story I don't mind (toooo much!), whatever you do please don't keep us waiting too long....
Posted by Harbinger on :
Don't you dare kill her Matt! Don't listen to him, he's a very bad man you know!!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
Kaysie searched the darkened streets for a good spot to hide. She was certain the Robert had not yet seen her. She could see his movements, slow and deliberate, several yards away as she crouched in the shadows behind several garbage cans.
She began to condition her breathing so that by the time Robert approached he would not be able to hear her. She almost entered a meditative like state. If she made the slightest sound, she might give herself away and the hunt would be over.
She watched as Robert walked past the garbage cans and stifled the urge to gasp as he looked over in her direction. A painful moment of silence followed.
He started to walk over to her direction when a noise further down the alley distracted him. He rushed toward it. Kaysie knew that this spot was no longer safe, though. After he was far enough away, she quickly, but quietly began to move from behind the cans.
Unfortunately, her heel caught itself on a garbage can lid. As she extricated herself from the can, the noise may as well have been a nuclear explosion. She ran back the way Robert had come. She looked around, surveying the surroundings. She had no choice she though, but to go up.
She began to climb up the fire escape and was on the third floor. By this time, Robert had returned and was on the ground. Still moving slowly, he began to climb the fire escape after her...
Posted by Harbinger on :
You are mean leaving us a cliffhanger like this, I would never treat my fans in such a disrespectful and cheap manner
Loving it Matt, keep it up!
Bxx
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
Matt, stop it! Just write it out now already, my poor heart can't take these cliff hanger endings....
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
One big twist is still to come...
[ January 17, 2004, 05:08 PM: Message edited by: Danny Blaine ]
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
The Harbour was full as Marcus surveyed the scene. HE had been afraid that all the killings would keep people away, but the opposite seemed to be happening. Safety in numbers and all that jazz...
Maybe everything would be all right after all. He had told the bar manager that he would be leaving the bar as soon as he enrolled in school. He would find something during the day. It was time to try the 9 to 5 thing...
***
Morgan raced to the cathedral but there was no sign of Kaysie anywhere. He decided that he might have more luck on foot. He parked his car and began his search. But where to start?
***
Kaysie was in trouble and she knew it. Robert was hot on her tail and she had nowhere to go but up. Robert shook the fire escape hard, causing Kaysie to lose her balance. She made it to the platform. This gave Robert time to make up ground. He was only a few feet behind her now. Kaysie knew she had a choice. She could either keep running or...
She stopped and turned around, facing Robert who was on the staircase.
Robert looked at her strangely. He was caught off guard by her boldness.
"I think it's time to talk." Kaysie said, holding the knife in front of her.
"Nore more talking, you bitch!"
"Why Robert? Why are you doing this? Scotty would roll over in his grave if he knew what you were doing?"
"You stupid bitch, don't you see?! I am Scotty! Robert died that night in my dorm room. But Scotty, he lives forever!"
"Robert, I know you're in there somewhere!" Kaysie wsa astounded. "You've got to stop him, get him out of your head!"
"I like it in here, bitch!" It was strange, Roberts voice took on a higher quality and his facial expressions had even changed. He lunged at her again. She held the knife firm, keeping him at bay. "Besides, after tonight, my work will be done. And Robert can have this tired old body back. I won't need it anymore."
"Robert, Scott is dead," Kaysie pleaded. "You murdered him after seeing him with another man. You are not Scott Maxwell, you are Robert Maxwell, his older brother."
She could tell she was getting to him. He was shaking. "No! She's lying! I am Scott Maxwell!" Robert lunged again, knocking the knife out of Kaysie's hand.
Suddenly a gunshot rang out, and Kaysie and Robert both slumped to the ground...
Kaysie looked down at the ground to see who had shot at them. She couldn't believe it! Then unconsciousness took her.
Posted by Sonnie Bloke on :
Kaysie is actually a man??
Can't wait to see what you give us next Matt
Kxx
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
LOL NO even more shocking than that.
Posted by Invisible Brainiac on :
You sure know how to make this suspenseful. I'm on the edge of my seat!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
The figure in black made its way up the fire escape. Kaysie stirred, looking up at the figure. Robert was breathing, but not moving.
"I told you that if I got to this bastard first, I would kill him,' said Bette Peterson. "Bet you didn't know that I was a crack shot."
"Is he... dead?" Kaysie stammered. Lorraine Peterson's lover stood over her, oferring her a hand. As Kaysie pulled herself up, she felt her aching body. She had not been shot. But the impact caused her to hit her head when Robert fell.
"Not yet, but he will be..." Bette cocked her revolver again. She aimed at Robert's head.
"Bette, this isn't the answer." Kaysie could see that Bette was shaking. Tears were rolling down her eyes freely. But she paused, and allowed Kaysie to take the gun from her.
Neither of them noticed Robert as he slowly began to move...
***
Hearing the gunshot, Morgan raced to the source of the loud noise. He looked down the alley and finally saw Kaysie and an older woman slowly walking down the stairs to the ground.
But Robert Maxwell was getting up. "Kaysie, look out!"
Morgan watched as the older woman rushed at Robert Maxwell. The railing gave way and the two of them tumbled off the fire escape. Time seemed to freeze as they fell. The double thud gave Morgan chills.
He rushed over to the two fallen bodies. The older woman was dead, a smile etched on her face. RObert was fading fast too. His breathing was shallow, between coughs, he tried to speak.
"You're... too late... Number One... There all gonna die... just like I did..." With that, Robert Maxwell was dead.
Kaysie joined Morgan and they stood there, sirens screaming in the background...
***
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
The police had found Robert's car. After taking his and Bette's body away. Kaysie and Morgan gave their statements to the police. The serial killer had been caught.
Kaysie was still uneasy. What did Robert mean, "Soon they would all die."? Her question was answered when a report came over the police radio that an explosion had occurred at the Harbour!
"Marcus is there!" Morgan said, as they rushed to Morgan's car.
***
Marcus tried to keep everyone from panicking. The explosion itself had been fairly small, but several people that were close were killed instantly when the bomb had gone off. The building itself was on fire and the patron's were screaming. Marcus knew there was severe structural damage and part of the ceiling had collapsed as well. Marcus knew that if any of them were to survive, he would have to take charge.
"Let's go!" he ordered several people. "We've got to get out of here as quickly as we can. He directed the patrons to the exits as calmly as he could. He managed to keep people as clam as possible as they exited. Just when Marcus thought everyone was clear, a young man about twenty-five rushed toward him.
"You have to help me. My friend Jack and his boyfriend are trapped. When the explsoion occurred, they were under the ceiling when it fell. I can hear them, they are still alive."
Without a word, Marcus rushed back in to the blazing building...
***
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
The biggest twist is yet to come... Keep reading...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
It was easy to find the young lovers. They were trapped together, holding hands. The ceiling had collapsed and they were both pinned to the ground by a large wooden beam.
They were fairly calm, both of them older. They were talking about their life together.
"Remember when we went to Florida?" One of them said weakly.
"Of course I do, you got us lost!" The other one chuckled as he spoke. Marcus knew that there was no way for him to get them out by himself.
"I'm going to go get some help!" He told them.
"No, it's too late for us! We've had a good life. No regrets. But I'm worried about my cousin. His name is Greg. He's in his mid twenties, blonde hair..."
"He's all right," Marcus said through his tears. "He asked me to come find you."
"That's sweet of him." He reached his hand to Marcus. "Please take care of him."
"I won't leave you here!" Marcus could hear the timbers above them. More of the ceiling was going to collapse any minute now.
The other man looked at Marcus. "It's too late for us. Please, go help the boy!"
Marcus stood there for another beat. He ran away as the roof collpased again, crushing the two lovers. The sound of it sicked Marcus, but he found the strength to escape.
The young man was waiting as Marcus exited the Harbour for the last time. By now, the fire trucks had arrived and were hard at work putting out the roaring fire.
"Did you find them," Greg asked, looking hopeful.
Marcus nodded, tears running down his face. "I'm sorry,"
The boy began to cry. Marcus held him tight as they walked slowly away from the building...
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
A few days later, Ryan was well enough to leave the hospital. Morgan had offered to let him stay at his place while he recuperated further. He was looking forward to starting a life with that man. The two of them had been through so much together. Although he was still weak, Ryan was excited about life again.
***
Morgan arrived at the hospital to pick Ryan up. There was so much they needed to say to each other. Morgan still blamed himself for Ryans attack. He had been weak, sleeping with Todd McAllister on a whim. But now, they had a chance at a real life together. The nights were safe again...
***
Marcus was treated for smoke inhalation and minor burns, and was released from the hospital almost immedately. He tracked down Greg Parsons and offered to help him. It seems that his uncle Steve and his lover Frank were the only family Greg had left. Marcus offered to help Greg get on his feet. School would be starting soon, and Marcus would be needing a roommate.
***
Kaysie DuPris got her story. The editors of the Evanston Herald praised her for her fine investigative jornalism. There were even talks about a promotion. Kaysie would believe that when it happened.
So much had happened. Robert Maxwell was dead. The Harbour destroyed. So many lives ruined by the events of one single night. She thought back to the night Scott was killed. Robert killed his own brother, but the guilt was terrible! Scotty became a person of his own inside Robert's head, splintering off into his own personality.
But what had caused Robert's murderous rage in the first place. Why did he hate the fact the Scott was gay so much that he killed him? Kaysie would never know...
***
Janice Maxwell had retired to Florida. She had buried both of her sons within a few days of each other. All of her boys were dead. She looked at a picture of all of them.
She didn't mind so much that Scotty was gay. After all, it ran in the family. Scott's dad...
She remembered the day she caught Ralph Maxwell in bed with another man like it was yesterday. She had come home from work early because Robert's school had called. Robert had a temperature and was sick. Could she come pick him up?
SO when Janice and an eight year old Robert entered the house, Janice walked right in on them! She sent Robert into another room, took out the gun they kept for security and promptly shot both of them dead.
Of course she disposed of their bodies in the river and made up a story about her husband leaving her. She was never caught.
But Robert had seen it all. He never spoke of it, but deep down he knew.
The end...
Posted by Harbinger on :
Well done Matt, you kept up the suspense until te very end!
Don't stop writing now, keep your tremendous stories coming as your fans are champing at the bit for more more more!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
I'm going to finish up Midnight Redemption...
Then I will have time to work on Breath of Life (I got writer's block while working on it before)
After that, I'm sticking with Legion stuff in the near future, unless someone screams at me to do...
Posted by Fat Cramer on :
Great story, Matt. I won't scream at you, but I do hope you continue with your non-Legion fiction. You're really building up an interesting other world with your "Midnight" stories and this one here. So much work has gone into them - it's worth pursuing the lives of these characters you've brought to life. Something like Robert's killing spree would have a huge impact on the lives of the survivors - I'd like to see where they go from here!
Posted by Danny Blaine on :
I have an idea to call the entire thing "Tapestries" and do various types of stories within that universe...
Maybe I'll try a romantic comedy next...
Posted by Harbinger on :
Don't stop writing Matt, do whatever you think is right and please keep posting it here!
Posted by Invisible Brainiac on :
Yes, I'd love some more!
Posted by Mattropolis on :
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