Traces of Hope

Prince couldn’t believe his luck. He was just passing the dead-end circular street the bitch lived on with her precious FBI agent when he saw her. He wouldn’t allow himself to circle her street in the daytime; in such a low-traffic area, he would surely draw attention. Instead, he slowly passed by from time to time, gathering as much information as he could about her routine. Because her street curved at an angle, he was able to see the house without actually turning onto the street itself. Now, as he watched her knock on the door of the house across from hers, a smile parted his lips. His scraggly hair was longer than it had been when she’d confronted him at his old apartment building, so maybe she wouldn’t recognize him after all this time. Even his vehicle was a different color now. He had changed it after killing each of his victims—now three in all. Crystal, who stood outside the house across from hers, was the last one he’d had his way with whom he hadn’t killed. Finally, when he’d gotten hold of the next one, he’d lost his will to resist. All strength and control had drained from him, and he could no longer suppress his desire to kill. First, there was the cocktail waitress he’d befriended at a bar and offered to drive home when her car wouldn’t start at the end of her shift. Then there was the hitchhiker. The prostitute had been the last. He’d picked her up nearly a year after snatching the redheaded bitch he’d become so fixated with. Seeing that no one was going to come to the door, he watched her turn and head toward him and the house next door, which was on the corner. He moved further down the street where the road curved into a wooded area with no houses. She’d have to walk down the street and around the bend in order to see him, and that’s just what she did, to both his shock and utter delight! He could see her approaching in his rearview mirror, hands shoved in her pockets, shivering in the cold. Why wasn’t she wearing a coat? It was freezing out. Then he noticed the puffy, bluish bruises around her eyes and felt a smile of amusement tug at the corners of his lips. Ah, so she had gotten her ass beat before she got kicked out of the house. Well, he certainly had the perfect remedy for that! He stood still and watched. She continued to walk toward him, eyes downcast and seemingly unaware of his presence. Other than a few domestic calls and traffic violations, this wasn't the sort of town accustomed to any trouble, so what happened next would most definitely take the small, upper-class town by surprise. She was just a few yards away when she finally looked up and observed the station wagon. A flicker of apprehension crossed her face as he popped the trunk and stepped out of the car. She didn’t seem to recognize him at first. “Crystal?” “Yeah,” she said, stopping just in front of him. “She sent me to fetch you. She’s worried about you.” “Huh? Who the hell are you? And where’s Jewell?” The bitch was obviously too upset to be scared yet. But that all changed when he grabbed her by the arm and began to drag her toward the open trunk. “No!” she screamed. “Shut up!” he yelled back. Fortunately for him, no houses were visible from where they stood struggling in the road, which was flanked by dense vegetation. But if someone happened to drive by… “You fucking psycho!” she continued to scream at him. Now heavier, she was much harder to control. She was also angrier, whereas the last time she had been more or less numb with fear. Now she was out for blood, and kill him she would if she got the chance. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he wanted her all that bad. He was turned on by submissive women, not feisty bitches like this. She slugged him in the face so hard that he pitched off balance and slumped against the back bumper of the car. Instead of turning to run while she had the chance, the bitch kept coming at him. She kicked him frantically in the face, chest, arms, sides, legs—everywhere. He finally managed to pull himself up on all fours and then crawled to the driver’s side of the car. She followed, continuing to kick at him while calling him every name in the book, sprinkled with threats of death. Every inch he moved was a struggle. He was hurting pretty badly, and his breathing came in ragged, uneven breaths. Still, he had to show this bitch that no woman beat on him like this and got away with it. She needed to be taught a lesson and taken down a peg or two, and he was just the one to do it. “You sick, twisted animal!” she continued to scream. “You’re dead, you hear? Dead! Like hell I’ll give you to the cops just to see you set free in no time at all. You’re one dead mother-fucker!” Prince couldn’t believe what was happening to him. The rage and embarrassment he felt were incredible. He thought the bitch would’ve given up by now, yet instead of tiring, she only kicked at him harder with a seemingly endless supply of energy. He was surprised she had such stamina, being a good twenty to thirty pounds overweight like she was, but rage did have a way of pumping up one’s strength. Determination, desperation, and rage—they all made a person do things they didn’t normally do. He knew that. He had reached the door by the driver’s seat, which he’d left open. While she kicked at his back, he reached in and across to the glove compartment. The bitch was too enraged to notice the gun he pulled out. In fact, she didn’t even know what had hit her when he fired the weapon at her.

Jewell knew she had gone too far and that she should go out and look for Crystal, though she also figured that by now, Crystal would have gotten to a phone and called her friend or her cousin to come and get her. She hated to admit it, but perhaps Crystal had been right when she said Jewell simply did not desire her. She didn’t hate the girl, and she didn’t think she was ugly, but the attraction had long since died off. Maybe it was wrong of her to be so picky—after all, she was no centerfold herself. However, one was entitled to be attracted to the person they slept with, weren’t they? Considering the fact that they hadn’t gotten along in ages and that the rocky relationship wasn’t a good thing for Sheena to be exposed to, perhaps it really was time to throw in the towel and move on. The phone rang. She took hold of the TV remote and lowered the volume before answering. It was Kaori. “Hi, Jewell. How are you?” “I’ve had better days. Why? What’s up?” “Oh, not much. Just calling to chat with Crystal.” “She’s not with you?” “No.” “I guess she must be with her cousin then.” “Did they go out somewhere?” “Well, not exactly. She and I had a fight, and I sort of kicked her out of the house,” Jewell explained. “Sort of?” “You could say she was glad to go, as well. I figured she’d use the neighbor’s phone to call either you or Matt.” “Well, she didn’t call me, so I guess that leaves Matt. I’ve got his number. I’ll call her over there. So long.” “Bye now.” Five minutes later, the phone rang again, and again Jewell lowered the TV volume. “Hello?” she said. This time, there was a trace of annoyance in her voice. “Jewell, it’s Kaori again.” “Yes?” “She’s not at Matt’s place.” “He hasn’t heard from her?” “No, not at all.” “Don’t worry about it,” Jewell assured her. “I’m sure she’s just at one of the neighbors' houses. Probably with the old lady next door.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m pretty sure. There’s nowhere else to go around here unless she walks up to the few stores this town’s got, and I think it’s a little too cold for that. It’s also dark now, so she’s with someone around here.” “Well, I guess I’ll try not to worry for now. Please have her call me when she gets in, okay?” “I can do that, though she may stay at the neighbor’s house overnight. We tried, but we just can’t cut it together anymore, so I think she’ll be moving out soon.” “I know you two have had it rough for a while now. Maybe leaving each other would be best for both of you,” Kaori said. “There’s always the possibility that she called my mother. I’ll call over there and see if she’s heard from her.” She hung up with Kaori and phoned her mother. When her mother answered, she briefly filled her in. “Haven’t heard a thing, I’m afraid. So you think this is it—that things have unraveled to the point that you two can’t make amends?” “We tried, Mom, we tried.” They changed the subject, assuming Crystal truly was with a neighbor, and talked about family and work. She was pleased to learn that her sister and her husband were planning a trip back east to see friends and family in the summertime. When they hung up, a sense of unease overtook Jewell. She tried telling herself not to worry—that Crystal was safe with neighbors and would soon be back for a change of clothes. Then she would start moving out little by little to either her friend’s house or perhaps her cousin’s. And then what? Would they each remain alone? Or would they find someone they were more compatible with? Perhaps she really had been making lame excuses after all. Maybe if she’d been more serious about Crystal, she would’ve found a way to satisfy her needs more, including her own. Yet she hadn’t been. This made her question her love for the girl. She liked her, though she didn’t think she still loved her. With a sigh of resignation, she realized it really was time to move on. At least she had a secure job and a home. It was Crystal who would struggle for a while as she readapted to a life of being single, but what could she do? She supposed she’d be ordered by the courts to provide alimony at least for a while. She didn’t expect any kind of a custody battle over Sheena. Crystal couldn’t get into the idea of being the child’s mother any more than Jewell could get into the idea of being her husband. She felt bad for Crystal. It wasn’t Crystal who had fallen out of love. She was still into the relationship, and if only Jewell could be as into it, too... but it wouldn’t be fair to either one of them to continue putting off the inevitable. Lying to herself or to Crystal by insisting that things would change for the better would no longer work. She turned off the TV and rose from her chair, weary and emotionally drained. She brought her mug to the kitchen and placed it in the sink. Then she went upstairs, took one last peek at the baby, shed her clothes, and slid into bed.

Prince pulled into the garage and hit the remote to close the door behind him. He then unlocked the trunk. The bitch was still out cold. The bullet had grazed her arm, but there’d been no time to take care of it then. The risk of being seen was too great, and he wasn’t about to go down for trying to keep her from bleeding to death. If she didn’t make it, it wouldn’t be his fault. Clearly, she was still alive as he carried her into the house and down into the basement room he’d set up just for this day—the day he’d finally captured his prey. It was actually a bathroom. The room was small and windowless, with just enough room for the narrow cot that was in it. He laid her down on the bed and removed her clothes. Then he stood up straight and studied her. Not that bad. Not great, but not that bad either. Next, he inspected the wound on her upper arm. It was a nasty gash, but nothing serious. The bitch certainly wouldn’t bleed to death. He grabbed an old, dingy towel with a design that was too faded to make out and wet it in the sink. Next, he wiped the dried blood that had crusted around the wound. Trusting that she’d remain out of it, he ran upstairs to fetch one of his T-shirts, a large gauze pad, and medical tape. Back downstairs, he bandaged the wound and slipped the shirt over her head. He didn’t want her to have much clothing. Too much of anything might be used against him somehow. He gathered up her shirt, pants, socks, bra, panties, and shoes and left the room, locking the door securely behind him. “Let the good times roll!” he roared to himself as he ran upstairs.

By late afternoon the next day, with still no word from Crystal, Jewell found herself growing concerned. She tried to tell herself not to bother caring—after all, she no longer loved Crystal and Crystal was an adult. However, what began as mild curiosity as to where she could’ve gone was turning into genuine concern. By the time the sun was starting to set, she could no longer fight the feeling that something was wrong, and she set out to question the neighbors. Of those who came to their doors, no one had seen her. But the man in the corner house reported seeing Crystal walking toward the part of the road that was flanked by woods. He also could’ve sworn he heard shouts and a sort of a pop, but when he stepped outside, all had been silent. The phone was ringing just as she re-entered the house. She ran and grabbed it. It was Kaori. “Still no word from her,” Jewell told her. “I was just out questioning the neighbors, but only one person saw her. The guy in the corner house says she walked by at one point and that he thought he heard shouts, but when he went outside to check it out, there was nothing.” “Hmm,” Kaori said thoughtfully. “This isn’t like Crystal.” “No, it’s not. Even I can’t deny being a little worried myself.” The two were silent for a moment, then Jewell asked, “You’ve known her longer than I have. Can you think of any other place she may go that I haven’t thought of?” “No. If she’s not at a neighbor’s and she hasn’t called either Matt or me, then I don’t know where she could be. Are you sure you didn’t kill her and stash her body down in the basement somewhere, or maybe even bury her in the woods out back?” “That’s not funny, Kaori.” “It wasn’t meant to be funny.” “Then let me get to figuring out where she might’ve gone. Meanwhile, you call me the minute you hear from her if she does happen to show up at your place, you got it?” “Got it. Bye, Jewell.” Jewell heard the baby begin to cry in the nursery almost as soon as she hung up the phone. With a sigh, she headed up the stairs, feeling like she had a ton of bricks strapped to her back as she trudged upward. Sheena was standing upright when she entered the room. The child was a head taller than the rail of the crib. “jewwee!” she uttered with glee, raising her small arms to be picked up. “Yes, I’m here, sweetie. Up you go,” Jewell said, lifting the child out of the crib. “My gosh, you’re getting big.” She took the child downstairs to the living room. A feeling of emptiness and isolation settled over her.

Crystal’s eyes fluttered open. A sense of grogginess overcame her. She had a foul taste in her mouth and was aware of a pain in her upper arm. She reached to feel the area and found that it was bandaged. She was wearing something that stunk horribly—it reeked of sweat. Next, she was aware of how cold and dark it was. Where am I?she wondered. Let me think… oh yes, Jewell and I had a fight and then… and then? She struggled to sit upright and clear the cobwebs from her head so she could figure out exactly what was going on. For starters, just where the hell was she? She couldn’t see a thing. All she could do was feel her surroundings. She seemed to be on a cot of some kind. When she reached toward the left, she felt a cool brick wall. She could tell by its smoothness that it was painted. Finally managing to sit up, she swung her bare feet over the edge of the cot and placed them on the cold cement floor. She listened for sounds, yet all was silent. She rose to her feet and nearly fell flat on her face until her outstretched hands came in contact with the wall opposite the one she’d first felt. Steadying herself against the wall, she slowly inched toward the right. A few feet later, she hit another wall, then the cot a few feet after that. Now she knew the room, wherever it was, was narrow. Perhaps five or six feet wide. Feeling for the foot of the cot, she continued on. Something poked her in the knees a couple of feet in front of the cot. Blindly, she reached downward to find that she’d stumbled into a toilet. To the right of that was a sink, and to the right of the sink was a heavy wooden door. She pulled on its handle, but it wouldn’t budge. She began to knock on it and yell, but the door was so thick that instead of vibrating through it, it seemed to throw her voice back at her as it bounced off the wood. Crystal beat on the door persistently. “Hey! Can anyone hear me? Help me! Please, let me out of here! Somebody, help me!” She beat on the door until her fists couldn't take it anymore and her voice grew hoarse. She slumped to the ground in despair, trying not to panic. Then she remembered. He had found her! How, she did not know, but she now remembered it all. Why, oh why didn’t she run when she had the chance? Fear and anger made her throat constrict so tight she thought she’d suffocate. Her stomach churned wildly. Then she thought of Jewell and the baby and wondered if she’d live to ever see them again. With her back against the cool wood of the door, she placed her face in her hands and wept miserably.