Chapter 5

As Jack came running by, his attention focused on the glow in the distance, Jeff tripped him, causing Jack to hit the ground hard on hands and knees. After rolling over quickly, he saw Jeff and put it together. “You son-of-a-bitch, you set my house on fire,” he yelled while scrambling to his feet.

“Yeah, I did, Stupid. You fucked the wrong women,” Jeff ground out, hitting Jack across the mouth with a forearm, rotating his body with the blow, letting loose some of the pent-up emotions boiling inside him. Jack hit the ground on his ass, his jaw feeling as if it had exploded.

Jack could barely comprehend what Jeff had done. Hell, he outweighed the guy, and he was a lot younger. He staggered to his feet, spitting teeth, boiling mad — and met a back kick to the groin, purposely angled slightly up to crush his balls against his pelvic bone. Jack went to his knees and threw up, leaving his side open as he grabbed his balls.

A snap kick took out four ribs on his right side. As Jack flopped onto his back, Jeff stomped his balls and dick to make sure he had the younger man’s attention. He felt something break and hoped it was Jack’s balls. If not, he would make sure in a couple of minutes. After taking the .45 out of its holster, Jeff grabbed Jack by the hair and inserted the barrel into his mouth — not too gently. Jack’s mouth hadn’t been open enough, so the front sight and barrel broke off two more of Jack’s teeth and did a job on his lips. Jeff cocked the hammer as Jack stared cross-eyed at the Colt protruding from his face. There was the pungent odor of fresh piss.

Whispering in Jack’s ear, Jeff said, “Punk, you’re not even in the same league with me. So just sit tight before I have to kill you. You have fucked my wife and daughter — maybe knocked them up. If I ever lay eyes on you again, I will kill you where you stand. And if they are knocked up, I’ll kill you anyway. Right now, it’s all I can do to keep from pulling this trigger. You’re young and obviously stupid, and I’m going to give you one chance. But if the cops hear about this, you will be dead. I have a very good friend who is an assassin for an agency you have never even heard of. I’ll talk to him tonight, and if I don’t report in regularly, he’ll kill you. You will never know whether it will be with a rifle, or a fake robbery gone bad, or a chemical on a car door handle to give you a fatal heart attack, or any one of a dozen other ways, but the end result will be the same. Dead. If you ever mention any of this to anyone, it will happen.”

Jack tried to say something, but Jeff slammed the gun deeper into his mouth, making him whine and gag. “Remember, if I ever even see you again — ever, I’ll kill you. And incidentally, just tell the people at the hospital that you fell off a ladder at a friend’s house, and stick with it, no matter what they say. If the police show up at my house, I’ll make that call. Your life depends on the things I’ve told you, so you had better burn them into whatever you have that passes for a brain.”

With that, Jeff snatched the gun back and hit Jack in the forehead with it — hard. The punk collapsed, which was a pretty good thing, everything considered, since he didn’t have to feel the pain any longer.

Jeff holstered the .45, then covered Jack with a painter’s plastic drop cloth. After picking him up in a fireman’s carry and dumping Jack into the back of the van, Jeff took the pistol back out of the holster, let the hammer down and safed the weapon. He stood looking at Jack for a moment before returning the weapon to its holster and strapping it down.

Shaking his head, ashamed for the rage inside himself, he closed the back door, then got in and started the motor. A little later, he dropped Jack, still unconscious, a block from the hospital. Wearing his gloves, Jeff covered the handset of a rare payphone with a rag and dialed 911.

When the dispatcher answered, Jeff, changing the cadence of his voice, gruffly said that there was someone passed out with blood all over him at Dearborn and 9^th Street, and hung up. The cloth was to keep any droplets of saliva off the phone, on the extreme off chance that a DNA sample would later be taken. Changing the cadence of his voice probably wouldn’t fool a good voice analyzer, but it would give a lawyer something to argue with, should things go bad. Later, after making sure there were no cameras or people around, he put the cloth and the plastic sheet, along with the two cooking oil bottles and his gloves in a dumpster that was not near enough to a building to cause any problems, and set the trash on fire.

After driving the van back to the detective’s lot, he retrieved the tapes and carefully wiped the vehicle down — just to be sure — then dropped the keys into the mail slot and drove the rental vehicle home.

As he entered the playroom through the side entrance a little later, everyone started to talk at once. “Just hush,” he said in a stern voice. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He noted that everyone had their clothes on except Arnie, who was sitting naked on the couch tied up. He had so much rope wound around him that he reminded Jeff of a mummy. He went up the stairs and into their bedroom, forcing himself not to think about what had been going on in there.

A couple of minutes later, he laid the pistol and holster on a washcloth on the bathroom sink, and stripped off his clothes. Being careful not to let them touch anything, he carried every item of clothing he was wearing, including his belt and leather holster to the washing machine and dumped them in. After putting twice as much detergent as usual in, he poured in a whole bottle of stain remover that was supposed to get out blood and crayon stains. After turning the controls to hot, he started the machine.

He doubted the precautions were necessary since he thought Jack had gone along with his instructions. Jeff had waited for an hour where he could see the emergency room entrance of the hospital, and the cops had not come. Jack must have told the doctor he fell off a ladder. Shit happens.

After putting on fresh clothes, he field-stripped the .45 and cleaned it with a chemical that he knew would obliterate any traces of blood. He hadn’t shot the guy, but cramming the gun in his busted mouth had certainly gotten some blood on the barrel and sight, not to mention hitting him in the head with the gun. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he stuck the .45 inside his belt in the small of his back, put the washcloth in the washing machine, and set the machine up for a second cycle, starting it again. After thinking a minute, he went down the stairs to the playroom.

Before anyone could say anything, Jeff said, “Diana, you and Arlene go make some coffee. Arnie and I need to be alone for about five minutes. And I’m hungry. If you have any sweet rolls or anything like that, I need a snack.”

Diana looked at him and started for the stairs, but Arlene was worried about Arnie. “Dad, please don’t hurt Arnie. I can explain...”

Jeff turned to Arlene, and almost growling, said, “Get your ass upstairs now before I lose my fucking temper.”

Jeff knew that Diana, and maybe Arlene, had put things together: the gun on his hip when he had first come in, the delay upstairs, the washer running. Diana probably thought he had killed Jack and was getting rid of the blood on Jeff’s clothes. From the worry on Arlene’s face, she thought Arnie was going to join Jack. Diana grabbed Arlene by the arm and snatched her out of the room before she could even open her mouth again.

Arnie, at least, has the sense to keep his mouth shut, Jeff thought, but he would bet there was a wet spot on the couch. At least it was leather, so maybe the piss wouldn’t soak in too badly. Right now, he didn’t care.

Jeff sat on the couch, not too close in case some leaked out from under Arnie, and casually laid his arm across the boy’s shoulders. “You and I have to talk, Son. After that, we’ll get you untied and get your clothes back on.”

There was an odd look on Arnie’s face. From the smell, Jeff thought he definitely had the young man’s attention.

A couple of hours later, Arnie was the owner of a new hard drive, preloaded with the latest operating system and several new programs, plus a new faster and larger flash memory card for his camera. Vacation pictures had been uploaded with the same filenames as the pictures Arnie had stored on his website, three times, with different pictures, but the same filenames. Jeff sat in the playroom on the freshly cleaned couch where his wife had been fucked earlier, his wife and daughter sitting on either side of him. Arnie’s old hard drive and flash card for his camera were on the floor in front of them. Jeff had gathered up the microphones, cameras and other equipment, and put them in a bag ready to return them to Wilson when he had a chance.

Both women had cried until their eyes were red and swollen, but Jeff had sat without expression while they told their story. Neither of them even thought about lying. They just told it the way it was.

Jeff finally asked questions — many questions. In the end, he knew everything they could remember to tell him. He sat staring at the floor, occasionally sipping from a cup of coffee. Eventually, he put the cup down and picked up the phone. A couple of minutes later, he was talking to someone that Diana had never seen but knew that Jeff talked to him from time to time.

After the amenities were passed, Jeff said, “I know it’s late, but I need a big favor.” After a pause while the other person said something, Jeff continued, “I need some morning-after pills or whatever, for two women who have had non-consensual sex for the past week, and I need them now. I don’t want to buy anything over the counter and this needs to remain between us, and it needs to work.”

Again there was another pause while the other person said something, then Jeff said, “No, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything. I owe you. I’ll see you there in twenty minutes.”

Diana was silently crying again, and Arlene had an odd look on her face. Jeff got up, picked up the bag of equipment and left without saying anything.

A little over an hour later, he walked in and handed two small prescription pill bottles to Diana. “Each of you take one now, and if your periods haven’t started in twenty-four hours, take the second pill.”

“Where did you get these?” Diana asked. “You can buy over-the-counter morning-after pills at any drugstore, but I’m afraid to take something like this. I...”

Jeff interrupted with, “Look on the bottles; they’re legal prescriptions. That doctor is from out of town, but the prescription is real. Carl just filled it, that’s all.” Looking at first Diana, then Arlene, he continued, “Take them now, one pill each.”

“I’ll get the water, Mom,” Arlene said, hastily getting up.

After they had taken the pills, Arlene went upstairs, returning a few minutes later with a tray laden with coffee and sandwiches. Jeff looked at the tray, and took a fresh cup of coffee, but refused a sandwich. “I’m not hungry,” he said, his voice listless.

Arlene wouldn’t move the tray away but pushed it back in her dad’s face. “Yes you are, Daddy. We all need to eat. That sweet roll wasn’t enough.” With her voice quavering. “Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.” Diana hugged Jeff, almost causing him to spill his coffee as Arlene started crying again. He put his cup on the end table and started to say something when the phone rang.

“It’s after ten,” Diana said, getting up and starting toward the phone. “Mom would never call this late unless something was wrong. I can’t think who it would be unless it’s her.”

Diana answered the phone, paused a moment, then said, “Hold on.” She turned to her husband. “It’s a Mr. Wainwright. He says you know him and it’s important that he speak with you.” When Jeff nodded, she released the mute button and handed the phone to him.

After a long conversation, Jeff got up and replaced the phone in its charger. A frown on his face, he sat back down on the couch.

Diana turned to her husband. “What was that all about, Jeff? I mean, I heard what you said, but it doesn’t make sense. What is this Learjet at seven in the morning? Where are you going? What...”

Jeff stretched out his long legs and stared at the floor a moment. “I didn’t mean to tell you two this, yet. Certainly not this way. I was saving it until it was a done-deal, but I guess it is just about...”

“Jeff, you’re driving me crazy,” Diana said, “What’s going on, Baby? Please?”

Chapter 6 »