In the Nick of Time (86 page)

“Well,” Oliver said, rubbing his cheek up and down. “I don’t believe he’s gotten that far yet. He doesn’t have much experience in this, but enough. Should he reach a level of infinite expertise, I believe you know what he’d do to them, Nick. I think you know quite well.”

“Has he killed anyone yet, Oliver?”

The man took a while to respond, losing himself for some time in the television screen. “Perhaps. I would be surprised if he hasn’t, actually. He doesn’t enjoy it, though. It can get messy, ruin the collection, too. Therefore, he doesn’t make it a practice.”

Nick closed his eyes in pre-emptive frustration. He had to have patience with the likes of a fucker such as this, but having too much patience would cause more and more girls to disappear.

If I push, he’ll pull back, making it even harder for me to find him… but that’s what I do best.

He smirked, remembering who the hell he was.

I’m the king of hide-and-seek… Time is on my side…

“Oliver, thanks for your time.” He slowly rose from his seat and pushed the chair back in. “I’ve been checking in on your progress. Seems you’re doing really well.”

Oliver nodded, crossed his ankles and looked at the television, a sad smile on his face.

“You do know that I’ll be here for probably the rest of my life, correct?” he said.

“Yes, I know that.” Nick sighed and pushed his hands in his pockets.

“Do you know what’s worse than being caged away and never trusted, Officer Vitale?”

“What’s worse, Oliver?” He slid his card across the table towards the man, grabbed his keys from his pocket and traced a ‘Big Apple’ key chain with the tip of his fingernail.

“Knowing that you’d better stay put, even if you had the chance to leave, because it’s tragically true. You
can’t
be trusted; you know the nature of your internal animal. You’re a horrible person, and no amount of education, therapy, and even your cock being cut off can make it stop!” He looked pitifully at him, his face angry and strangely human.

“And you know what else?” His voice trembled as tears collected in his eyes. “You love
and
hate the cop that placed you here, because you just realized not too long ago that if you ever got out, you’d go and ‘collect’ again…” He let his voice trail away, his tone ominous. “Hurry up and find him, Officer Vitale. The clock is ticking…”

“I miss the
fuck outta you,” she slurred, sleepiness taking over her high notes and replacing them with something silly and off-key. The woman had music playing, and he recognized the song: ‘Purple Kisses’ by The Dream.

“This was supposed to be only for a week, max. You’ve been gone for two…” He reached over and sniffed her pillow.
Crisp, white, cold.
No coconut oil smell lingered upon it from the hair oil she liked to use. No creams, perfumes or powders… And no long, shapely brown legs wrapped around his own. Where was the little black satin scarf he liked her to wear when he fucked her? The one she always wore to bed to protect her hair that always slipped off no matter what she did?

He missed the way she’d bunny hop to the restroom in the middle of the night. It used to irk his nerves, but now he’d do almost anything to hear it.

“I need my baby, my Warrior Princess…” he hissed as he stretched, sat up a bit. “Goddamn it, Taryn… this is crazy. I want you back home.”

“I’ll be home, soon. I promise.”

“Is he hittin’ on you? I’ll rip him to pieces, Taryn. I promise you that.” His anger giving him new alertness.

“Come on, Nick,” she said with a light laugh. “You know I can handle this and no, he isn’t being disrespectful in the least.”

“Yeah.” He rolled his eyes and slid his arm under his pillow as he looked up at the ceiling. “I bet that bastard is on his best damn behavior… Tell me anything, right?” He chuckled listlessly.

“I’m serious.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “So, enough about me. How’s work been? Good?”

“Yeah, just trying to figure some things out, but good.”

“Does your boss know that you’ve been moonlighting as a homicide detective? You went on and promoted yourself behind their backs. Nice touch.” She chuckled.

He closed his eyes briefly while he massaged his scalp, just as she used to do on his behalf.

“Of course he doesn’t know, but I can’t be worried about that. They are no closer to getting this guy… and children are missing.”

“Yes, I’d have to agree with you there. Well, honey.” She yawned. “I’ve pulled another all-nighter. I have to check out these models they sent in for the online catalog. We are planning a big fashion show in Manhattan soon, too. Anyway, they’re going to take some photos for the booklets, and of course I will be there every step of the way.”

“That’s because you’re a control freak,” he teased. “If you weren’t, you’d be back home by now!”

“It’s true, you’re right. Look, I love you, miss you so much… Call you tomorrow, okay?”

“You better. Love you too, baby…and hey?”

“What, baby?”

“I’m so damn proud of you. You’re amazing. Don’t let my possessiveness make you think otherwise… I just…doesn’t matter.” He sighed. “Just know that I’m proud of you and I’ve got your back, okay?”

“I know you do, Nick. I know you real well.”

“Good, ’cause it’s nothing against you. I just know what I’ve got, and I know if others are around you, they’ll see it and know how good you are, too… and I trust you, I do. You’re my woman, my baby… you inspire me. Anyway, I know you’re tired. Goodnight.” He took a deep breath as his heart pounded faster within him. The damn thing wept, wanted her beside him as soon as possible.

“Goodnight, baby!” She blew him a kiss from the other end, then, the call was over.

He lay there for a good while, loosely holding the phone in one hand and looking off into the distance. Out the corner of his eye, he saw the darkness of the night through the sheer curtains of their bedroom. Running his fingertips down the center of his chest, he caught the dark, silky hairs in his grasp. Closing his eyes, he continued to touch himself, imagining her hands on him,
all
over him…

“Shit… baby… Taryn, proud of you baby… but hurry home to me… I need you so damn bad… want to feel you… kiss you… I miss your body pressed under mine.” He swallowed deeply, clamped his eyes closed as he dipped his hands deeper and deeper until he’d reached his pubic hair. He skimmed them over his inner thigh, then the side of his left nut and, after that, he gripped his shaft.

It’s not the same… can’t even rub one out the same! She’s got me all fucked up! Shit!”

He snatched his hand away in frustration, held his forehead and sighed, wanting to almost sob in her memory.

Want to be inside you… so deep inside you, baby… Never missed somebody so damn bad! Maybe Frieda was right. Maybe I’ve replaced one addiction with another. My new one isn’t Hennessey, it’s Taryn, and I’m not going to rehab for it. I like being high off her love; I wouldn’t have it any other way… just waiting for my next fix…

T
hree in the
morning at the 73
^rd
precinct was a sight to behold. For his first five years as a cop, Nick drove the streets at the witching hour, witnessing some of the strangest shit known to mankind. One time, a guy had walked around wearing a red turd cutter and an albino snake wrapped around his body in the middle of the damned winter. Another night, he’d broken up a fight between two drunk people, each only three feet tall. One was deaf and the other refused to speak anything but Pig Latin. Ahhh yes, home sweet home…

He moseyed about, people asking what the hell he was doing there at that hour as the damn phone rang off the hook. He only offered a friendly grin and acted as if he’d showed up to finish up some more work. Waltzing inside with blue jeans and a t-shirt on, he tried to blend in and not bring too much damn attention to himself. He slung his black leather jacket over his chair, shuffled some papers around, then stole glances towards the back room… where the little girls lived…

Back room, dark room, deep and hidden…

Hide-and-seek…

Where are you, ‘Doll Collector’?

Where is your Doll House?

My time is running out, isn’t it? Tick Tock… Tick Tock.

He casually got to his feet, grasped his coffee mug, and headed to the break room. While filling the thing up until it almost ran over, he fell into a well of ideas, lost himself in murky thought. He cracked the break room door open, his eyes shifting from one side to the other as he stayed close to the wall, not daring to look anyone in the eye. He spied the discussion area, taking note that the lights were off within. Setting his coffee mug down on a nearby desk, he took a few cautious steps.

He drew closer until he had his hand on the knob and turned it, the steel cool against his palm.

“Uh.” He winced when the door made a slight cracking noise as it broke away from the frame. Taking a deep breath, he slipped inside faster than melted grease down the crack of an oiled ass. Once inside the dark room, he slicked his phone out of his pocket and used it as a light to guide him to the other side.

I can’t take a chance on someone seeing a light on in here… They may come over to try ’nd shut it off.

The scent of stale coffee perfumed the place and a chill remained in the air, as if heat were not allowed in the quarters, be it morning, noon or night. He was certain he’d soon be able to see his own breath. Once he’d reached the other end of the room, he flipped the switch on a small desk lamp that provided minimum light and set his cell phone down.

Do I need to light a fire in here? Damn it!

He brought his hands up to his mouth, blew in hot air, and proceeded. He scanned from left to right, taking notice of every single photo, the new maps, the circles and Xs marking possible suspects—all leads had come up empty, day after day, week after week. He stepped back and grabbed his phone. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, he looked back at the board and began to snap shot after shot after shot in fast succession. The scribbled notes, the names of the missing girls, the whole shebang. As he wrapped up his information collection, he heard voices approaching.