Serial Separation (10 page)

Chapter 25

The pine scent brought back boyhood
memories of Boy Scout camp. The rustic cabins had bare wood, and when I closed
my eyes I could see our bunk beds and the knots in the pine. However, it was
tough to close my eyes. I tried not to study Mercedes consuming the cold meal,
but she was like a painter’s canvas with many contrasts. It was hard to take it
all in.

She made me feel uncomfortable from
the moment I met her. Now alone with her, I could study her more closely. What
I saw was a beautiful flower thriving for the sun of attention. She craved it,
and the more she received, the brighter she seemed to reflect the light.

We didn’t talk, but I knew she knew
I was examining her. The way she ate her food was slow and deliberate, her red
nails hypnotizing. I expected she may have been uncomfortable, but I was glad
to have company. I think I would have given up driving in the storm earlier if
she hadn’t been with me.

“Scott, you seem to be bothered by
something. Have I done something wrong?”

“No, Mercy, you haven’t done anything
wrong. I was just thinking about the drive here. I would have stopped long ago
if you weren’t with me.”

“I’ll have to admit I was very
nervous on that last stretch of road. It is hard to believe you were able to
get us here safely—but I’m glad you did.” She looked like she wanted to add
something more, so I kept quiet.

“Do you think its fate that we’re
here together like this?”

Her question caught me off guard. I
had to think quickly before answering. She added, “I make you uncomfortable,
don’t I?”

I took a deep breath and looked
into her eyes, but I noticed her lips curl.

“Yes.”

She leaned back in her chair. I
wanted to ask her what she was thinking about, but decided against it.

“Scott, I don’t think you should
feel uncomfortable. Since you gave me an honest answer, and we have some time
on our hands, I want to share some secrets with you.” She paused, adding,
“Don’t worry . . . you might even enjoy what you hear. Do you want to know, or
should I keep it to myself?”

I used the last of my food to
evaluate the consequences. “Why don’t I get the fire started?”

“That’s a great idea.”

* *
*

While I did my thing with the
fireplace, Mercedes turned on the TV and looked out the window at the storm.
“The snow is still coming down, and your car is just a big white lump.”

I turned to her voice. She was
facing me, leaning with her hands behind her against the window sill. I wish I
had a camera to capture the striking pose, but my memory will never forget it.
One could have hours of conversation and not have said what she said in that
moment. I could feel my face flushing and turned to light the fire.

“We might want to see if we can
hear a weather report on the TV.” It struck me that if we couldn’t get out of
here tomorrow; we didn’t have enough money for another night’s stay.

She came over and spread the afghan
out beside the hearth, knelt beside me, and just watched the fire as it came
alive. Neither one of us said anything, but her question was still hanging out
there. It took a few minutes of patient attention to get it going, but soon we
heard snapping, the orange glow lighting up the room.

“Scott . . . I found you attractive
from the moment I met you in Paddy’s office. I had done some research on the
earlier task force and learned about you and your involvement.”

I glanced at her, and she seemed to
be welcoming the opportunity to get it out.

“I had pictured what you would look
like, but when I first saw you I was shocked at how much more handsome you
were. During those first few moments, I decided to have you notice me. I could
tell you were looking at me, and I could see you trying to focus elsewhere. Would
you like me to stop?”

Again, she was asking questions,
increasing my vulnerability.

“No.”

It was interesting getting her
impression of our meeting.

“I know you saved your girlfriend’s
life from that other killer . . . what was his name?”

“Jimmy. Jimmy Ballou.”

I was now able to get the first log
on the fire, but I still had to pay attention to it.

“Weren’t you scared?”

I had put the details of that event
out of my mind, but her question brought the images back.

“I wasn’t thinking about being
scared or the danger. I needed to act quickly. It all happened so suddenly,
it’s a blur now.”

“Do you think about the recent
murders?”

“As a matter of fact, I can’t seem
to get the images out of my mind. I think about what these guys went through
and the horror of it.”

“Why, do I make you uncomfortable?”

Her sudden change of topics threw
me. It took me a moment to answer. “Mercy, it’s hard for me to talk to you
about this. My only—what’s the word I’m looking for—intimate relationship has
been with Lisa. I fell in love with her almost from the moment I met her. We
first met the day President Kennedy was assassinated. We were more vulnerable
that day, but I guess in hind sight it was meant to happen.”

“You still haven’t answered my
question.”

“I know, and I’m trying to get to
it.” I felt exposed without answering her question.

She studied me. “I know the answer,
Scott. I guess I like pushing your buttons. I’m like a hunter and you’re my
prey. Seeing you react . . . is like the thrill of the hunt.”

Her frank words concerned me, so I
reached for another log. She grabbed my arm, and when I looked at her I could
see tears in her eyes.

“Scott, I’ve had no one to love. I
was so focused on getting into Harvard and getting good marks that I missed
growing up. I had one infatuation period, but that passed like a bad dream.”

She let go of my arm, and I added
the log to the fire, and the sparks flew in all directions.

“Why are you sharing this with me?”
I asked.

She looked like a lost puppy, but
she didn’t answer. I gave her more time.

“Now it’s you asking the tough
questions.” She fiddled with the corner of the afghan. “Let me try . . . this
seems so right . . . you’re a caring person. I guess I feel if I didn’t talk to
you now, I would miss my chance to tell you. Right now, I feel like the hunter
who is staring at his game, regretting having ever hunted . . . I wish I could
change so much, but it is too late.”

I put my arm around her shoulder
and pulled her to my chest. I just held her tightly, and I could feel her
quietly sobbing. Bizarrely, I didn’t feel that uncomfortable.

Chapter 26

The announcer interrupted the TV
broadcast:

We interrupt our normal
programming for the following. This is WBZ TV reporting that investigators were
at the scene on the North Shore, where a body was found in a fishing trawler’s
net. Investigators speculate the body is related to the two other recent torso
slayings but they failed to comment further. We return you to our regularly
scheduled programming.

Mercedes regained her composure and
was sitting staring at the fire.

I thought they would have reported
more, but I guess that was enough. I knew it was Bob Sullivan. I couldn’t
imagine what it would be like for his family to receive this news on Christmas Day.

I placed another log on the fire,
looking over at Mercedes. She no longer resembled a woman who had control of
everything. It was peculiar, but I felt sad for her. I might be feeling the
same way if I hadn’t met Lisa.

I was lucky to have Lisa. Jimmy
could have taken her life, as he had planned. He killed two women and had
nothing more to lose. I was lucky to save her.

What was I doing here with this
woman? I hadn’t planned this. Was it just an accident, or a twist of fate? I
missed Lisa. She was not only away from me now, but she had been away from me
for months. It was also a twist of fate that we were not together on Christmas
Eve, nor would we be on Christmas. Maybe she’d miss me more this way, and hopefully
get over whatever has been bothering her.

Mercedes hands were clenched, and I
could see the white of her knuckles. Was she mad about sharing things with me,
or was she mad that I had failed to react the way she wanted? What did she want
me to do? At that moment, she leaned her back against me, and I could feel her
body relax.

We both watched the fire, each
guarding our thoughts. Mercedes’ strong woman persona was just a well-designed
façade. I was confused and overcome by a strong desire to comfort her.

“Mercy, what do you think of the
newscast?”

“It wasn’t a surprise.”

Her response made me jump. We
didn’t need the television any longer, so I turned on Christmas music. Mercedes
was still seated by the fire. I added another log, feeling the heat on my face.

I recalled her comment about my car
and decided to look out the window. It was just like she said, a white lump in
the middle of a white blanket. The vacancy sign was no longer illuminated,
which made all the sense in the world.

I heard the bathroom door close. I
could feel the warmth in the room and realized how tired I was. I laid down on
the bedcovers, hearing the water running behind my head, blending with the
music. I hoped Lisa had made it safely to her parents’. I was concerned she
would be very upset that I couldn’t make it there. I regretted telling her
mother I wasn’t alone here and hoped she would not mention it to Lisa.

My thoughts were interrupted by the
image of those poor men, tortured, mutilated, killed, and dumped like garbage.

Chapter 27

She heard the news broadcast about
the body being found. Her thoughts drifted to his killing. She gave him his
just reward. He and his friends had raped her for an entire weekend. She had
trusted him and had given her body willingly, but he was just using her.

Earlier, she had commented about
his looks to her friends on the cheer squad; they told her about rumors that he
and other football players had raped several girls.

She had refused to believe the
rumors and persisted in seeing him. It was easy to be with him since he lived
next door. He was about two years older. She had been successful in having him
see her and eventually spend time together.

Her parents and sister were away
most weekends. She had to stay home for cheer. The time they had spent together
made her a woman long before her time. It gave her the confidence she longed
for.

However, she never saw it coming,
but when it happened, her wonderful world crumbled. During her rape, she asked
Bob ‘why?’ and he just laughed at her. He said he had used her because she was
convenient. She was naïve to think anything else.

She recalled all of their positive
comments about her looks and body, but she took away the most important thing—revenge.

When he threatened her sister, she
promised herself he would never have a chance to get to her if it was the last
thing she ever did.

There was no blindfold when they
were about to dismember him. He had already realized his fate. She had the
honor of showing him the knife before she removed his manhood. However, she
reminded him about his laughing at her during her rape, more importantly his
threat to her sister.

Two of her friends had consummated
their revenge in the same manner and for similar reasons. She relished the ice
cold shower water, which reminded her of his ordeal. This last killing was her
trophy—three down, one more to go.

She felt her body tremble.

Chapter 28

Damn this storm.

The number her mother gave her just
rang busy. She tried it several times but was unable to reach Scott. Lisa went
back into the living room with her parents to find them hovering around the
tree. She was on her second eggnog, but she didn’t know by how many her parents
were ahead.

“Hon, any luck reaching Scott?”

“No, I tried several times and just
get a busy signal. The storm has probably knocked out some of the phone service
. . . who knows? I really wish Scott and I had driven up together, at least we
would be somewhere together
.
”

“How are things going between the
two of you?”

Lisa was slow to respond. “We’re
okay, and now that school is out for a few weeks we’ll have time to see each
other. Both of us have been busy finishing our school work and haven’t had much
time for romance.”

Her father picked up on her
response. “Lisa, are you okay?” Lisa just looked at her father, who rarely
spoke unless asked something. “Your mother and I are both concerned about how
you’ve been behaving—you have not been yourself. Care to share anything? We
might be able to help.”

“Daddy, things are okay . . . I’m
okay.”

Her dad came over to her and put
his hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes. He hugged her. Lisa started
crying, and her mother joined them in a group hug. Her mother was quick to add
her tears.

The television station interrupted
their hugging:

We interrupt our normal
programming for the following—this is WBZ TV reporting that investigators were
at the scene on the North Shore, where a body was found in a fishing trawler’s
net. Investigators speculate the body is related to the two other recent torso
slayings, but they failed to comment further. We return you to our regularly
scheduled programming.

Lisa responded to the announcement.
“Scott has joined the task force investigating these killings. He’s going to be
tied up, and we will miss some time together. I think he’s purposely creating
distance from me.”

Her mother jumped in. “Why in the
world do you think he’s doing that?”

Lisa’s tears were now showing. “The
last few times we’ve talked on the phone . . . well, we’ve had words. We’ve
never had words before. He’s not close to being on his way here if he’s in
Topsfield on Route One. I’m not sure he loves me anymore. That’s maybe why he’s
not here tonight . . . and with someone else.”

Lisa went over to the couch and
tried to deal with her emotion.

“Lisa you’re overreacting to things.
We’ve seen the love Scott shows you. I think you’re not reading Scott
correctly. He was probably headed up to the North Shore where that body was
discovered. You said yourself that he’s on that task force, and he doesn’t take
responsibility lightly . . . you of all people should know that. You wouldn’t—”

“You’re right, mother; I wouldn’t
be here if it wasn’t for Scott. Maybe that’s the problem, maybe I shouldn’t be
here . . . maybe I’m sorry I am.” Lisa paused, realizing what she had said.
“I’m sorry . . . I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry.”

Lisa started sobbing and buried her
head in her mother’s waiting arms. Her father gave the thumbs-up sign.

“Honey, we need to get you some
help. You’ve been through a life-threatening event, and you obviously haven’t
dealt with it. You can’t, really, without some professional help. You never
really shared what happened; maybe what happened is creating the friction. We
can talk about it more later, but we need to get you help.”

Harold gave the thumbs-up sign again,
and Rose just smiled, hugging Lisa. He said, “We’ve got our own therapy, which
might help right now.”

Lisa sneaked a look from her
mother’s hug like she used to. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled. “You know we always like
to open a present Christmas Eve. Well, I think it’s time we carried out that
tradition. Are you up for a present?”

* *
*

Lisa was glad she had made it to
her parents’ but worried about what she had said. Lisa knew she needed some
help and wondered why she was resisting so much. Maybe it was the holidays, and
maybe she didn’t want to tell what really happened that night with Jimmy.

“I think we could all benefit from
a present,” she replied after wiping her tears and kissing her mom on the
cheek. She went over and picked up one of the presents she brought. “This is
just something for the house, but I thought you would like it.”

Her mom took it and opened the
package. “Oh, Lisa, how did you know we were looking at this in the store the
other day? Thank you . . . we’ll have to play it tomorrow.” She held up the
Beatles’ album ‘
Help’
to Harold.

Lisa felt better now.

Lisa’s father pulled a small
wrapped package off the tree and handed it to her.

“This is just a little something we
picked up the other day, but you might enjoy it.”

Lisa felt the very light package
and thought it might be a piece of jewelry. She opened it to find a note:
The
present is too big to wrap so you’ll need to follow us!
  Her dad waved to
her to follow both of them. They were headed to the back hall and the attached
garage.

They opened the door, saying,
“First, close your eyes.” They guided her to the door, and her mom said, “You
can open them now!”

Lisa opened her eyes and had to
study what she saw—it was a brand new 1965 Mustang. The bright yellow
convertible brought tears, and she started crying again.

“You have got to be kidding me . .
. thank you . . . thank you so much.” She rushed down the stairs and got behind
the wheel. The cold leather bucket seat and new car smell reminded her of
Scott’s car, more specifically, how she drove him crazy with her caresses while
they were driving to the Balsams.

It’s too early for a New Year’s
wish, but she already knew what she would wish for.