Chapter 17

Sunday, Aug 26, 9:04 am

Lou's hand was shaking as he talked. Not much had been revealed by the media, but reading between the lines was easy enough. Something bad had happened to Karen, something really bad. The only thing mentioned besides the fact that her death was brutal was that there were 'signs of sexual assault.'

This was getting beyond his mind's ability to cope with. He just wasn't built to conceptualize things like this. Yes, he had lived on the West Side of Syracuse for most of his life, but this was just growing beyond his capabilities to handle.

His hand was still shaking when he set the phone in it's cradle. He needed a buzz and he needed it now.

Tom sat on the front steps to his apartment building smoking a cigarette. The phone conversation with Lou had happened about 10 minutes ago and he was still wrap his mind around it.

Karen was a bitch, but she was one loyal bitch who would take care of those closest to her. He had known her almost as long as Bill had, although never as close as those two were.

Bill always seemed able to slip past that bitchy front that she wore like an apron, and never took things personally from her. Tom never did understand what Bill saw in her, nor why I asked Bill Partridge to give her a job.

She was just pure bitchiness as far as Tom was concerned.

But bitch or not, no one deserved what she got.

He flicked his cigarette away and stood wearily.

He needed a buzz and quick.

Bill Partridge looked in the mirror and winced, dropping the soiled bandage into the waste basket near the toilet. Two rapes in less than a week had taken toll on him, especially his face. The gouge and scratch marks were still rather raw looking and he needed to do something about it before the police came by the bar for questions. He wasn't looking forward to it, but he could only think of one way to make sure that the wounds didn't look so obviously from finger nails.

Considering what Sarah knew, this could be not only a waste of time but unnecessary suffering. If she were going to speak, she would have by now ... he was pretty sure, anyway. That rational stood strong until his mind considered where her head would be now that a coworker was found dead.

He growled, looking down at the straight razor and soldering iron.

He didn't want to have to kill Sarah but that was mainly because of the risk of getting caught. This new-found ... lust within him; he didn't know where it had come from, had no idea that it was at this level. There had been a few occasions in the past with hookers; he had gotten a bit rough with them, and seemed to cum harder when they actively resisted. Like, the more indignant they got, the more scared they became, the harder he would be.

And there was the his wife. One night after the insurance company she worked for threw a Christmas party, he had gotten a little rough with her. Nothing serious, except for the black eyes, but she wouldn't let him touch her in any decent way ever since. The only reason she hadn't left was because he had told her to say goodbye to the kids - she sure as hell wouldn't see them again especially as good as his lawyer was.

But this ... hunger to hurt, to take, to break he could barely control it and darn sure couldn't keep it fed. At times it seemed it was worth any risk, any price for the power he had over those girls.

Looking again at the soldering iron and the straight razor, he nodded and wasn't even conscious of the nodding.

Yes.

Any price.

He picked up the straight razor with a steady hand and watched in the mirror as he raised it to his ravaged cheek.

Sarah sat with one leg tucked under her on the couch and watched Bill pace.

Really wasn't pacing per se; no back and forth patterns. But it was pacing none the less.

He would enter the room and sit in his chair, watching the cable news channel that Sarah had on. She had turned to it ever since hearing of Karen's death and she was waiting for more news and chewing her lip.

It was time to go to the police, regardless of her parents forcing her to come home. She should have done it in the first place; if she had, Karen would not have gone through what she had and she would still be alive.

This Sarah knew.

But Bill wasn't having it. Normally so Liberal you could almost picture the hippy parents that must have raised him, Bill had laid down the law -

Sarah, no, he had said. This is not happening this way. You did not kill Karen nor did you have a hand at killing her.

She had tried to interrupt but sobbing as she was, it was hard enough for her to put words together and Bill easily over-road her: If you had known that Bill was capable of doing something like this, you would have gone to the police. Am I right?

She had nodded vigorously, tear drops flying as she snuffled mucus.

I would have taken you myself whether you told me no or not, if I had known he could ... he could...

But Bill, she had began.

No. Sarah, no. What's done is done. He won't do this again. That I promise you.

Her eyes had gone wide. Why?! Why do you say that?! Bill, you can't - can't - Bill, you would be as bad as -

He had tried giving her a grim smile, and it was a good try, but she could see the uncertainty behind it.

Trust me, Sarah. I won't kill him, but he's going to pay for what he's done. And I'll make him understand that it stops here.

So now he would sit in the chair and watch the news channel. It repeated the same program every half hour for four hours unless something new happened, with the exception of the weather reports and traffic reports. Each time the story would come on in it's minute and a half entirety, Bill would get up and leave the room. Sometimes she could hear him fiddle with a guitar in the den. Sometimes she would hear him in the kitchen.

Inevitably he would end up back in his recliner, watching the news.

This is how the day went, with Sarah using up half a box of Kleenex as she wept silently.

Sunday, Aug 26, 11:33 am

"She left early last night," Bill said, scratching his head as he looked at the floor as if concentrating. "I know that much, because she wasn't here to help close."

The detective picked up a pretzel from the wooden bowl on the bar. The bar was closed on Sunday, but Bill had met the police detective here at his phoned request.

Chewing on the stale pretzel, he said, "You didn't actually see her leave?"

Shaking his head, Bill's closed mouth turned down in a frown, increasing the depth of his jowls. "No, I didn't. We were pretty busy last night.

Nodding, the detective pushed the second half of the pretzel in his mouth. "Karen ever have customers that were - overly attentive?"

Relaxing a little, Bill sat one large cheek on the edge of a table. "You mean someone that could have turned stalker? Not that I ever seen. Karen was an attractive girl, though, with some very visible ... assets, if you know what I mean." He grinned a quiet communication to the detective.

The cop gave a small smile back. "Yeah, I get you. What about recurring friends, boyfriends? Any incidents that were public or that she might have talked about." He reached into the bowl for another pretzel as he looked around the bar.

Bill shook his head. "Nope. She didn't have a boyfriend that I knew of, not since the idiot she dropped about 2 years ago."

Chewing, he asked, "This old boyfriend, he ever make any return appearances?"

"Nope. She said something about him moving to Georgia. In fact that may have been why they split."

The detective looked down, contemplating the piece of pretzel in his hand. When he looked up his eyes locked with Bill's so suddenly that Bill was slightly taken aback (although he thought he covered it very well). "What happened to your face, Mr. Partridge?"

Bill's hand went to the bandage. With an embarrassed smile, he explained, "I had a tumble in the alley way last night. Bit too much to drink. Bit of broken beer bottle made a mess of my cheek."

"That bad? How many stitches?"

Bill waved his hand dismissively. "Didn't see a need. I've had far worse than this just from shaving."

"I hear ya. Still, should have someone take a look at it. Mind if I see what a beer bottle will do to a face? Never seen that before."

Bill frowned just slightly. "Well-"

"C'mon. If its that bad I might even have someone who can take care of it."

"Thats quite alright, officer. I've taken good care of myself for a while now."

"I'm sure." He finished the last bite of the latest pretzel and said, "Let me put it another way. You can let me look at it now or we can take a better gander of it downtown."

Bill pushed himself up off of the table, no longer relaxed. "You have a warrant for something like that, officer?"

"Its 'detective', Mr. Partridge. And given that the victim put up a fight, and her employer's face is marked in some kind of way, I'm thinking probable cause is more than enough to get a peek under that bandage."

Bill scowled, towering over the rather average height detective. "I wonder if my attorney would agree."

The officer held his gaze for a moment. "I guess we're going to find out, aren't we?"

Sunday, Aug 26, 8:42 pm

Sarah watched Bill set the phone in the charge cradle and waited. He stared at that phone but wasn't seeing it, she was sure. She hadn't over heard enough of the conversation to make sense of what was going on, but she wasn't very happy with the resolve she saw in him now.

He turned from the phone and came to sit on the couch near her. "Bill's out."

"W-what do you mean? He made bail?"

He shook his head, looking at a spot across the room. "No. He was released. He was questioned and released."

"Bill..."

"I know what you're going to say, Sarah. I know. Give me - give us a chance to fix this." He turned to look at her now. "Okay?"

She nodded, her chin visibly quivering.

He moved to her, taking her into his arms. Her forehead went against his chest as she felt a hand rub slowly up and down her back. "It'll be fine. It'll be fine."

Slowly but surely she melted into his arms, her anxiety trickling away like drops of water from a melting ice sickle.

After a time she pulled back just far enough to look up at him. The light in the room was getting scarce, the sun having set just recently and no lights on. She could see his eyes looking down though, she could see the concern and worry there - and more.

Again she wondered how they could have gotten so close so quickly. It made her mind swirl when she thought about it.

She decided she had had enough thinking for the day.

Her lips still had a quiver to them as she leaned upwards, and so did his as he returned her kiss gently, oh so gently. Hands traveled over respective bodies slowly, exploring as the kiss went on. She could taste him beyond the various tastes his mouth contained, taste the same taste she had savored the night before.