Chapter 24
Jenny stared at the dark stains on the drywall and back at her boyfriend.
“I know it looks bad now, but I know a great company that cleans up after crime scenes and they can make this place look immaculate. The house is in our budget, no homeowner’s association, and we can buy for less than we were going to rent.” Eric said.
The killer kept her eyes locked on the marred surface.
“It’s a murder house, Eric. It’s in our budget because that is a stain from someone’s blood and brains. Are you serious?”
Officer McGill squirmed in his uniform and discretely stole a peek at his wristwatch; he was going to be late if they didn’t decide in the next fifteen minutes.
“I know, sweetheart. It looks terrible and, yes, it’s tragic what happened here. But we can start a life together in this house. It even has a basement with a separate entrance so you can have that craft room you wanted.”
Jenny smiled but restrained herself from showing too much enthusiasm.
“I think we have a home then. After it’s been thoroughly scoured clean, of course.”
The realtor beamed and hurriedly made a call to her office to have the paperwork drawn up. Eric kissed Jenny and hustled off to his shift. The killer stood for a minute gazing at the remnants of the previous tenant’s blood. She could almost taste the copper in the air. It was exhilarating.
***
The summer began with a gentle growth of balminess. Jenny and Eric eased into their new living situation with a combination of movie nights, board games with Lee and Jenkins, and spontaneous lovemaking. The killer kissed her boyfriend and dressed for work with thoughts of how lucky she was that he left the basement ‘craft room’ solely for her.
“See you later, Jenny.” Eric said as he pinned his badge to his chest. “Don’t forget that Lee & Jenkins want to meet up tomorrow for a rematch.”
“Okay, if they want us to beat them in trivia again, I’m game. Have a good night sweetie. Catch bad guys.”
Officer McGill smiled and strode to his car in the soft amber of dusk. Jenny watched him leave; she loved the way the uniform hugged his butt. Once the policeman was out of sight, the murderer went to her craft room and pulled her trophy box out of an old, chipped toolbox.
With adoring eyes, Jenny Grand examined her private treasures, reliving each of her successes in turn. She rolled the smooth stone in her palm; it had only been seven months since her first kill. The murderess set the stone back in the small steel sarcophagus and picked up the silver ring.
“The moment I really worked out my way of doing things. So much better controlled than before and far riskier. I could go back to this one over and over.” She remarked to herself.
The trinkets in her box numbered nine. The killer examined the flattened quarter, chapstick, and expired fast food coupon she had collected since moving in with Eric. It surprised her how little effort it took to exercise her hobby without his knowledge. The icing on the cake was that her last four victims were still merely missing persons.
Jenny closed her metal memory box and slid it under the craft table. She looked at the various sketches, short stories, and sewing projects scattered on top. She moved all the random stuff around the tabletop, put away the cup of markers, and went back upstairs. Her tarp sat under the farm sink ready for use. The killer was going hunting.
***
The petite predator tracked her prey from across the yard. Her target was a balding man wearing a grungy bathrobe and smoking his third cigarette in a half an hour. Jenny watched him toss the lit butt into the bushes and stand up. He stretched, allowing his robe to flop open and reveal his shortcomings.
Jenny cringed and looked away; she didn’t need to see that. Mr. Yevin was going to be her next victim and that bond was special to the killer. She didn’t want it sullied with images of his grey bush and varicose veins.
Gary Yevin strapped closed his robe and returned inside his crapheap of a house with a shrill screech. Jenny knew her moment had arrived. She crept out from behind the abandoned doghouse and felt her heart thudding away with the thrill of stalking the sex offender.
She listened at the muddy green door. Inside the television was loudly advertising a new sitcom about ducks and robots. Jenny took out a tiny can of WD-40 and sprayed the hinges of the door. Waiting a moment, she noiselessly opened the door.
The murderer followed Yevin’s heavy footfalls through the house and heard him drop into a seat a couple of yards away from the kitchen. She leaned her body against the floral wallpaper and took out the stun gun she’d claimed from one of her previous victims.
Inching forward, Jenny closed in on her prey. The stun gun rubbed against the latex gloves covering her sweaty palms, threatening to slip loose. Her heart pounded louder and faster with each glacial step. She was careful not to make any noise.
“Who the fuck are you?” Yevin called out and spun around in his duct-taped recliner.
Jenny shoved the device into his neck and squeezed the button. He yelped with surprise and an awkward flailing dance.
Thump.
Down went Gary Yevin. Jenny stared at the immobile four-time rapist and at the portable cattle prod in her hand.
“What the hell? How did he know I…?” She exclaimed and saw her reflection on the TV. “…dammit.”
Jenny Grand mentally berated herself as she strapped her newest conquest’s hands and feet together. His ability to cry out was encumbered by duct tape. Then she pulled out her favorite knife and waited for Mr. Yevin to wake up. When he did, he was very unhappy.
***
Her hobby completed for the night, Jenny washed and put away her toys in the basement craft room. She hummed a jaunty tune and folded laundry. She ate leftover Chinese food, pickles, and brownies while watching Psycho. The rest of the night went as smoothly as diarrhea down a waterslide.
At 2:39AM the killer received a phone call, burst into tears, ran outside in her pajamas, and drove to the hospital. A sea of dark blue uniforms encircled the entrance to the hospital emergency room. Jenny left her car running in the red zone and sprinted up to Officer Lee. She barely noticed the dark splatters on his shirt.
“Lee, where is Eric? What happened? Where is Jenkins?” She bombarded him with questions and sought out some view of her boyfriend beyond the blocked glass doors.
“Jenny, there was a shooting. They took McGill up for surgery as soon as we got here. Jenkins didn’t…” He trailed off.
“Ma’am you need to move your car. This is an ambulance drop off only.” A young security guy grabbed Jenny by the shoulder.
Without thinking she whirled around and belted him in the face. The guard dropped to the concrete and grabbed his bleeding nose.
“Screw the car! I need to go inside. I have to see Eric and Jenkins. They have to be okay.” Jenny argued.
Officer Lee pulled her into a bear hug and pointed to some of McGill’s other buddies to move the automobile. The security guard was pulled aside by two patrolmen; he was being simultaneously patched up and convinced to let the assault go as a favor to the force.
The killer felt her legs give out under her. She sank into Lee’s hug with unrestrained sobs. They wept together for the loss of the rookie they’d both become close friends with and out of fear of losing Eric.
Jenny was eased into a waiting room with her lover’s best friend to worry on rigid chairs. A happy song played softly through the overhead speakers as various other cops checked in regularly. A nurse wearing lavender scrubs and smelling like cinnamon popped in to tell them McGill was stable but still in surgery.
Officer Lee cradled the murderer against his chest and rocked until she fell into a restless sleep. He leaned her back into the chair. The nurse brought him a blanket to cover Jenny.
Lee had plenty of experience waiting in hospitals to find out if one of his brothers or sisters in blue would be leaving out the front door with a cheesy joke about close calls or out the back with a twenty-one-gun salute. So far, his most recent partner was getting the salute; he prayed that his first partner wouldn’t be doing the same.