Serial Separation (15 page)

College Age

Boston
(Area)

Waterfront
(Pier and/or Building)

Weekends

Friday
(Kidnappings)

Leftovers
(Evidence)

Too Late

Paddy ended
with, “Young lady, I will applaud you again; you certainly exceeded my
expectations. I can honestly say you are truly an asset to the team!”

Chapter 42

“Lisa, are you okay?”

She realized her mom had heard her
throwing things.

“Never been better, why do you
ask?”

“That wasn’t very nice. I thought I
could help you.”

Lisa was quiet for a few well-chosen
breaths. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to take my frustration out on you. Scott
stayed . . . well; Scott and I had words about his not being able to make it
here.”

“Lisa, I know that is upsetting,
but you know the roads were a disaster, you barely—”

Lisa went running from the den to
her room. When she got to her room, she threw herself on her bed. She took out
her frustration on her favorite teddy bear, throwing punches at the innocent
object. It helped, and she began crying uncontrollably.

Within a few minutes, she had stopped
crying, sitting against the headboard, holding her teddy bear tightly against
her chest. She noticed the stuffing coming out of the poor thing, bringing her
to tears again.

Her mind flashed between images of
Scott in a motel room with another woman; Jimmy, with her naked and defenseless;
Scott and her in the shower at the Balsams. She realized she couldn’t prevent
the images of Scott and Jimmy being mixed.

Her breathing was erratic, and her
chest pounded. She remembered her last words to Scott. ‘She couldn’t care less
what he did.’

There was a knock on her bedroom
door. A few moments later, the knock repeated, this time a little louder.

“Honey, can I talk with you,
please?” her mother called softly.

After a short period of silence,
Lisa said, “Mom, I just need to be alone.”

Her mom came in even though not
invited. She saw Lisa on the bed hugging her teddy, obviously still very upset.
She didn’t say anything to her daughter but went over to the bed and sat down
beside her. After a short while, Lisa stopped crying and they hugged.

“Mom, things are confused with
Scott and me, but we’ll work it out.”

Lisa could feel her mom studying
her, and she knew what her mom was thinking.

“Is any of this related to your ordeal?”

“Mom, please, I can’t talk about
that.”

They were both quiet, just sitting
like they used to when she was growing up.

“Mom, it was awful. I thought I was
. . . I was going to die.”

* *
*

Lisa started to tear up again.
“Mom, at some point in my captivity, I knew I didn’t care if I lived anymore.
Jimmy might have been a good kid when you knew him, but he was a monster, and I
was . . . I was his defenseless victim.”

Her mother offered, “The girls at
the camp had done something to him, changing him from the nice kid I knew to
that horrible person. His vendetta against them turned into a vendetta against
me, and you were the means to make me suffer, kidnapping you.”

“Mom, what he did to me that night
haunts me all the time. I can’t spend time with Scott without seeing Jimmy’s
leering face. I know I need help. Every time I try to deal with what happened
to me, everything gets so confused.”

She was glad her mom hugged her
again. They cried together. “Hon, talk to me about it.”

Lisa was quiet for a few minutes.
She tried to gain some strength by taking deep breaths.

“Mom, you don’t want to know.”

“Lisa, it’s going to help you to
share. You can talk to me about it.”

“Mom, do you remember the movie we
were watching a couple of years ago—I forget the name of it, but that’s not
important. The young girl was naked and tied up. Someone was tormenting her. Do
you remember?”

“Yes, I recall that. We turned the
television off, and I think I said, how they can put that stuff on TV?”

“That’s right mom, you did. Now,
fill in the blanks, and that’s what happened to me. I guess I had fainted, and
when I came to, he had lit candles all around the room, and he had oiled my
body. He made me watch him oil his. That was just before . . . before he raped
me.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Scott found us, but it was just a
little too late. He came to my rescue, but he and Jimmy were fighting. He
picked Scott up and threw him against the wall. When Jimmy climbed out the
window, he went up in flames, panicked, and slipped off the fire escape to his
death.”

She knew she could have told her
mother more, but what she told her was sufficient.

“Scott was my knight in shining
armor. I wouldn’t be here today if he hadn’t saved me. Mom, I said some things
on the phone to him a few minutes ago that might send him away for good.”

“Honey, I’m so sorry. I wish all of
that had not happened. Thanks for sharing with me.”

Lisa wrapped her arms tightly
around her mom.

“Your father and I only imagined
what had happened. We need to get you help.”

She continued, “What you said to
Scott you said because you love him. I know he loves you. You can see it every
time he’s with you. A single set of words is not going to destroy that love.
Whatever you said, you said in reaction to something. That was emotion talking,
not rational thinking. Honey, people make mistakes. We all do. It’s what you
learn from them that makes you wiser and stronger.”

“Mom thanks. I’m sorry I’ve made
this Christmas a bust.”

They hugged each other. It reminded
her of growing up. Many times she had wanted her mother to come in her room to
spend time with her. However, her mom was mostly busy with other more important
things.

She wondered if Scott would indeed
be able to forgive her for what she had said. She wondered if he was going to
call her back, or would she need to call him?

What if he had had enough of her
behavior?

Chapter 43

The task force meeting had
finished. Mercedes and I were headed over to dig out her car.

“Mercedes, you were awesome today.”

“Thanks, Scott. What part did you
like best?”

“There you go again. You make
everything I say have a double meaning.”

“You said it . . . I didn’t. I like
to tease you. But did you enjoy it?”

“Yes
,
I enjoyed you, and you
know it. I was talking about what you did in front of the task force. That was
awesome.”

“Thanks, Scott.” She turned, our
noses almost touching. “Scott, my intent to have us spend time together worked
out better than I imagined. I like how sensitive you are . . . even if it
relates to Lisa. You are one of a kind.”

She took a deep breath and
continued. “I’m so glad I met you and we were able to spend time together.
There are some things you don’t know about me and my family, but I can share
those things later. What I want to know is this…can we see each other again?”

My mind was already confused enough
about our time and Lisa’s problems. It took me too long to respond. She turned
around quickly and fell. I tried to reach down to pick her up, and she just
waved me off.

“Lisa, I mean, Mercy, don’t do
this.”

“You gave me your answer.” She
jumped up and resumed walking to her car. I was following now, instead of
walking with her.

When we got to what she thought was
her car, I noticed it was completely buried with heavy packed snow from the
plows. The rest of it was completely covered in more than a foot of powder.

She tried her key in the passenger
side lock but couldn’t get the key into the lock. I thought I was on thin ice,
so I just watched her.

She went to the trunk and managed
to get that open, but the large amount of snow made it very heavy to open.
Mercedes took out a shovel and quickly started to shovel the car out.

I took the keys out of the trunk
and continued to try to get the car door open. I blew on the lock and within a
minute I had managed to get the key in and unlock the door.

I figured it would be hard to
start, so I climbed over the console, pumped the gas a couple of times, and it
started right up. I realized the car was a new Thunderbird. Nice—real nice.

I exited the passenger side again,
and, as I did, a pile of snow slid off the roof, engulfing me.

I could hear her laughing. When she
came around to my side, I was still wiping off the snow and clearing my face.

She was quickly right in my face.
She was wiping away some of the snow with her bare hands. We were close enough
for me to get the gardenia fragrance again. She held my face and kissed me.
There were tears running down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Scott . . . I
overreacted. But I still need an answer.”

* *
*

By the time we got her car out of
the space, we were both warm enough for the ride home, or whatever. We left on
a good note. I said we would be seeing each other again. Mercedes was so much
different than Lisa.

When I got to my apartment, the
landlord had already managed to get the walk and car spaces cleared. My apartment
was cold, so I kicked up the heat. I opened the fridge, finding only leftovers
and hot dogs. I decided the best thing to do was to take a nice hot shower and
deal with food later.

I stripped off my clothes and
started the shower. The pipes started to bang, so I knew the hot water was
coming. I started cleaning and realized I could still smell gardenia. How did she
do that? She was miles away, but . . .

I thought about my call with Lisa
and her comment about not caring what I did with the task force. I really
needed to get her some help. Maybe my absence or her being with her parents
would help.

I thought about the many showers we
shared and how we had first become intimate. Then, it was Mercedes’ image I
saw. The hot shower was subsequently replaced by cold water, but I continued to
think about two women in my life.

Getting dressed, my reflection in
the door mirror reminded me of the torso killings and what those men
experienced. Mercedes’ profile on the killers sounded so on target. How did she
put all that together? It was hard for me to think about young women torturing
men, mutilating their bodies, removing their extremities, and dumping their
bodies.

I remembered how Lisa reacted to my
task force commitment. I also saw how Mercedes quickly reacted to my calling
her Lisa. I think Mercedes was right about women being able to commit these
kinds of killings.

What could these men have done to
warrant this extreme treatment?

Chapter 44

She had trouble getting into the
building due to the snowstorm. The plowing service contracted for the occupied
side of the building must not have been working due to the holiday. That
wouldn’t be a problem. She would just park along the street and walk to the
building.

It was harder than it looked, and
when she tried to open the wooden gate it was frozen at the bottom. Since the
area was pretty much deserted, she just climbed over the gate. Climbing the
gate reminded her of the one around the state hospital where she had been
confined. She hated everything about the ‘funny farm.’

When she passed the required tests
to be released, she vowed never to return. They thought she was crazy, but she
knew she wasn’t.

Just because she had done some
strange things didn’t give anyone the license to have her committed. Trying to
burn down her next door neighbors’ house one night was what they called the
final straw.

None of them could imagine what it
was like to receive constant taunts by Bob and his friends at school.

Once inside the building she turned
on the lights. The blackened windows kept the building very dark and private.
It was the perfect place to carry out their revenge.

Her mind drifted to their last
victim. He had been hers. All of her frustrations over the last several years
were unleashed on Bob. She couldn’t wait to visit the trophies, but first, she
had work to do.

The walk in the cold, through the
deep snow, and the climb over the gate had tired her. She sat down on one of
the chairs. The only time they spent at this place was on revenge weekends.

She looked over at the small office
area that served as their sleeping area. Fortunately, their activity created
enough heat to keep from freezing to death. She never really paid much
attention to the inside of the building. She wondered what each of their
victims would see and when they would realize their end was near.

She went over to the guillotine
platform. She climbed up, stretching out on her back. She studied the large
room around her. Their victims would have looked through the hole to the second
floor and seen the guillotine contraption hanging from the ceiling.

She couldn’t remember if they had
left the lights on upstairs. She realized the men were shown the trophies, so
the lights would have been on. Good
.

The vertical support posts for the
second floor and the elevator were used to tie the men to the platform. The
only other thing the men would have seen was the whitewashed brick and rustic
wooden beams. She noticed they had not cleaned all of the sprayed blood on one
of the posts. She would need to tend to that.

The rustic posts and beams were a
sharp contrast to the smooth surface of her bedroom ceiling. She had had hours
to study it during her rape.

* *
*

Earlier in the day, her parents had
visited the Sullivans next door. However, it was not to wish them a Merry
Christmas. They went over to say they were sorry to hear about their son’s body
being found.

She had made an excuse not to
accompany them; even she
couldn’t pay her respects after what she had
done. Her sister would never have to worry about what Bob would do to her.

She couldn’t stand just looking at
the building details and needed to visit Bob. She jumped off the platform and
rushed up the stairs to the second floor.

She turned on the display case
lights, but closed her eyes. She wanted to open them to the first trophy. She
opened her eyes to take in their first murdered man. She felt her body react to
the display case content; her breathing quickened.

She took her time and slowly walked
from display case to display case. When she finally reached Bob’s trophy, her
heart was beating wildly and her breathing even faster.

“It wasn’t so much the rape itself,
it was how you guys made me feel—so dirty—like some kind of rag doll,” she
yelled to him. However, Bob couldn’t hear her, but he had heard her tell him before
she killed him.

She couldn’t forget her torment as
it had continued every day at school. “You made me lose my self-respect. You
changed my life forever. Until the day you and your friends attacked me, I
thought you really liked me, but you told me what you thought of me that day.”

She spoke as if he could still hear
her. “You son of a bitch. You deserved what you got! You’ll never rape anyone
again! For all of those you did rape, I only wish my knife had been rusty and
dull. They should have all been here to watch your final moments, hearing you
beg . . . beg like I had.”

She looked through the glass and
realized the magnitude of what she had done. “I’m so sorry, Grandpa, I really
let you down . . I wish I was never born.”

Minutes later, she studied her
reflection in the glass, angrily wiping her tears away. “We don’t need that
wimp getting in the way of what we need to do. We’ve got another one to take
care of—this one is Carole’s, and she will have the reward of adding JJ to our trophy
case.”

She smiled at what was left of Bob.
“Good night, my lost love!” she said, feeling the cold glass against her lips.