Femme Fatale (Black Rose Book 2) (7 page)

Melanie

My phone rings, pulling me away from my research with Charles. If I thought looking at the pictures of Richard’s victims was hard, it didn’t compare with trying to talk Evelyn down. I barely got in a hello before she started babbling. Now that she’d slept on it, she seems even more upset today than when she actually walked in on a killer. Convinced she’s going to be the next victim, my coworker continues to work herself into a full-blown state of panic, no matter how hard I try to allay her fear.

“Evelyn, Charles and I aren’t going to permit anything bad to happen to you. Besides, let’s look at it logically… If Richard went after you, it would be akin to admitting he was attempting to kill Lisa. Right now, it’s all speculation.”

“I know what I saw; he was getting ready to smother the poor girl with that pillow. The only thing that saved her was me walking in and catching him in the act.”

“Well, the only thing you can do is continue monitoring her room. If we place an officer at her door, we’ll be going against her wishes to not involve law enforcement. Don’t you think this girl should be afforded some modicum of control over her life, especially given all this craziness she’s had to endure?”

Though my true motivation is to keep Evelyn from involving the police, there is an element of truth to my words. The last thing I want to do is get into a race against the clock, trying to kill these guys before the police apprehend them.

Of course, I can’t divulge the real reason I don’t want law enforcement involved. Having Richard locked up and protected behind bars where we can’t get to him would severely complicate things. Out here, not only can we kill him when the time comes, but before then, we can monitor his actions so no one else gets hurt. These senseless killings have to be stopped. The women are innocent victims with no hero, and we are their unconventional saviors.

“You need to calm down, Evelyn. You have to keep your wits about you. Just be smart. Set your alarm, and bring your dog inside. If you have a gun, then keep it on the nightstand while you sleep. I’ll check in on you, and if you need me, you can always call. You’re not in this alone. Just keep that patient safe, and don’t breathe a word about what’s going on to anyone.”

I finally calm her down and get off the phone. Charles and I have another stake out planned, but we won’t be spying on Kimberly Regis tonight. This time, it will be none other than Richard Roundtree himself.

The Killer

Standing around the corner, I listen as the nurse who almost caught me suffocating one of her patients talks on the phone. I can hear the fear in her voice, and instead of the excitement I would normally feel at provoking a woman’s terror, I am preoccupied with finding out who’s on the other end of that line.

The fact that she’s spilling her guts to someone and telling them about me isn’t putting my mind at ease. I’d planned on coming here and finding out who she was and where she lived. It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance trip so I could do away with her at a later date. I’d intended to kill her off before she had a chance to run her mouth. Since it’s too late for that, my only hope is that the nurse didn’t recognize me. It’s a hope that shatters when I hear her next statement.

I’m certain it was him. It was Richard Roundtree, the guy on TV.

This isn’t going well. I continue listening from my spot around the corner, resolving to get my hands on that phone so I can take a look at her call history. I’m not overly worried about her talking to someone. After all, it would take a lot more than that to tarnish my sparkling reputation. When it comes down to it, it’s her word against mine. A woman in a dimly lit room, who thought she might have seen a man behaving suspiciously, won’t be enough to bring me down. Logically, I know all this, but my gut is still screaming that this bitch is going to be trouble. I need to get my hands on that phone.

The opportunity arises quicker than I believed possible when she hangs up and then leaves the phone unattended in the pocket of her lab coat—the lab coat she takes off and leaves behind the nurse’s station before making her way to the bathroom. I waste no time going behind the counter and pulling up her recent calls. I use a memory stick to quickly copy the rest of her data and then calmly walk out of the hospital.

I’m on the right path to remove anyone who might possibly have any information about the patient I tried to kill. This is escalating into much more of a problem than I’d anticipated. I need to get things under control before it becomes any more of a threat, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.

Charles

“I want you to meet me down at the warehouse later. I’ll be caught up most of the day with business errands, but I’ll be there to join you this evening.”

“You’ve never let me see that place before. Why now?”

“I think we both know the answer to that. If you’re going to kill with me, there can’t be any secrets between us.”

“So, you’re showing me your kill room? That’s a lot of trust.”

“I should be able to trust the woman I’ll be sharing every part of my life with, shouldn’t I?”

I slowly walk toward my wife, studying her face for a reaction to what I’m about to ask her. I wait until I am standing so close her breath tickles my neck, and then I lightly grip her throat—my thumb over her pulse point—as I question her.

“Don’t lie to me. Have you ever been to my kill room?” Her pulse rapidly speeds up beneath the pad of my thumb.

“I was digging through your office and found its location, but I never got up enough nerve to go there.”

“As curious as you are, I find that very hard to believe.”

“I have no reason to lie to you.”

“No, I guess you don’t.”

“I am curious to see how it’s set up. If I know you, everything has its place.”

“Yes, it does. How are you going to react to seeing a room set up for the sole purpose of killing people?” Giving her no time to answer, I continue, “You’re going to see implements and devices you’ve never seen before. You’ll need to know what the tools are and how to use them. There are so many different ways to get the truth out of someone before the final act of taking his life. Every time is thrilling in its own way. I get immense satisfaction out of finding new methods to kill those who deserve to be eradicated from the earth.”

“Well, I guess I’ll just dive right in, head first into the deep end; it’s the only way to know how I’ll react.”

“I’m looking forward to it, love.”

Melanie

I put on the bravest front I can manage and hope my husband doesn’t see right through me. In truth, I do have some anxiety about how I’ll react to being inside the warehouse, knowing it’s where he has spilled so much blood. I’ve always known he’s a killer, but I’ve also always been able to compartmentalize and separate that part of him from our marriage. Going to the warehouse—the place where he takes his prey—is going to break down all the walls I’ve built in my mind. Knowing he’s a killer and seeing the implements he uses in the room where he uses them are two completely different things.

How will I deal with this new reality? Somehow, I know that walking into that room is going to hit me in a different way than just accepting he’s a serial killer. Seeing something in person makes it more real; it’s the reason they say
a picture is worth a thousand words
.

I’ve always wondered about the wives of serial killers. So many of them say they never knew the man they married was a killer. I don’t believe that. I do, however, believe they didn’t want to know. If they didn’t admit to themselves they married a monster, then it wasn’t real. After all, if their husbands weren’t beasts, then they weren’t the depraved creatures who were attracted to and willfully stayed with them.

I pull my thoughts back to the present as I park my car in my space at the hospital. I think it might be a good idea to check in on Evelyn and see if there have been any more issues with Richard showing up. It will also give me a chance to catch up on my messages. I don’t want to be swamped with a backlog of work when I do return from my
vacation
.

I make my way up to the small office space my husband insisted upon renting for me. I have to admit, it’s nice to have somewhere to get away during lunch hours to eat or just decompress from the stress of a hospital shift. Things can get crazy here, and though I had been against the idea in the beginning, I am now glad he had insisted. I smile as I unlock the door, remembering all the times he’s pushed me over my desk and taken me.

Something doesn’t seem right when I enter; it feels as if my space has been invaded. I’m OCD when it comes to my territory, usually able to tell if even the smallest item has been moved. I need things to be precise. It’s one of the reasons I clarify facts more than once. I’m faced with life or death decisions on a daily basis, so my information has to be clear and detailed. Now, I’m not only dealing with the intensity of the hospital, but the stress of knowing if I make a mistake, my husband and I could go to prison for the rest of our lives.  Looking around the office, I check all the items on my desk. Nothing seems to have been disturbed, so I chalk it up to paranoia. I grab my cell and send a text to Evelyn for her to come meet me.

Starting up my computer, I begin the tedious task of going through countless e-mails as I wait for her. There’s pretty much nothing of importance, just junk mail, which is good. It’s better to stay on top of things than to be overwhelmed at a later date. I’m just finishing up as Evelyn enters.

“How’s it going, girl?”

Thankfully, she’s brought me a cup of coffee, and she sets it on the desk before sitting down across from me.

“Pretty good, I haven’t seen our killer again.”

“Alleged killer. Speaking of that, did Lisa say she ever witnessed any killings?”

“No, she just said that one day, the girls would be there, and then the next, they would simply disappear. She said that when they would take them, one of the scariest things was never knowing if they would be brought back or if it was their turn to disappear. From the way she talked, the women bonded because they were all in the same situation.”

“Did they keep them in cages or what?”

“Lisa said the men had some kind of setup in a warehouse they specifically renovated to hold their victims captive. All the women were kept in one room but in different cells. There were four men total, with Richard being the one giving the orders. Most of the time, they only took one woman, but sometimes each man would take a woman out for himself. She said the hardest thing about it wasn’t when they tortured her; it was witnessing the torture of others. The poor girl still has nightmares where she wakes up swearing she’s still hearing the other women’s screams.”

Evelyn pauses for a bit and visibly shudders before she asks, “What are you planning on doing if you find these guys?”

It’s the first time she has come right out and asked me, and it catches me off guard. Luckily, I’ve given some thought to how I’d answer should the need arise, and I’m able to respond.

“I am hoping we can find another live victim, one that will be willing to testify, and we can see these guys behind bars where they belong.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to that day.”

“I am too.” I look at her as I get up to leave and speak.

“Hey, do me a favor and keep an eye on my office.”

“Do you think someone has been in here?”

“No,” I lie. “I just don’t want to take any chances.”

I wait until she leaves and take a good look at the doorframe and lock, though I doubt it will tell me anything. Even I can see it wouldn’t take much more than a credit card to break in. Installing a deadbolt on my hospital office door isn’t something that’s ever crossed my mind before, but I’m living in my husband’s world now. In other words, it’s time to up security.