Friends List Page 9
Lexa was about to speak, but lowered her head in defeat after glimpsing the probing eyes of her doctor. Unseen by her, Cross moved his bishop and took her queen.
Sensing his patient was drowning in a sea of indecision, Cross decided to throw her a life preserver. “You know, a wise man once said that the definition of Hell is getting what you’ve always wanted.”
That’s it exactly. Someone else does get it.
“Life doesn’t always have to be either/or, Lexa. Often we have to find a way to meet in the middle in order to survive.” Cross’s fingers stroked Lexa’s queen. “Maybe together we can find that happy medium, a quid pro quo that will satisfy both of your desires. Are you willing to try?”
Lexa signaled obedience.
“Good girl.” Cross turned the monitor on his desk so that it faced Lexa.
“God, not again,” Lexa said. “I hate that thing.”
“That’s a conundrum I’ve never come close to solving,” Cross said. “Why we seem to always hate the taste of what heals us.”
With a few clicks of the mouse the familiar hypnotic animation appeared upon the computer’s screen. Lexa stared at the black and white maelstrom in front of her, spiraling down into a sea of nothingness. Still holding the captured chess piece, Cross doused the lights and deepened his voice. “Now, let us begin…”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEX AND LEXA
Alex sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace, the flames reflecting off his eyes, behind which a maelstrom of emotions exploded out from the darkest recesses of his mind.
Why does she want to leave? She could be in danger. How can I live without her? How can I protect her? Why does she want to leave me? She’s my life—I’ll let no one come between us. Fuckin’ no one…
When Lexa finally arrived home, Alex ran over and wrapped his arms tightly around his sister, holding onto her like grim death.
Don’t ever leave me. Don’t ever leave me. Don’t ever—
“I’m glad to see you too,” Lexa said, a wave of uneasiness washing over her while she waited for her brother to release his death grip on her. “Um, did I miss something?”
“I worry about you.” Alex released his twin sister. “You know I do.”
“You can stop for the moment. I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Alex walked off and headed into the living room.
Lexa closed the front door, took off her coat, and joined Alex, who was standing beside the chessboard.
“What does that mean?” she asked. “Is there something you know that I don’t?”
Alex moved a chess piece. “Let’s just say that sometimes I have to protect you, from yourself.”
Lexa was taken aback by her twin’s cryptic remark.
From myself?
“What the hell are you talking about?”
***
Amanda and Claude sat restlessly at the kitchen table eavesdropping on the conversation taking place in the living room.
“Maybe we should keep this for another time,” they heard Alex say.
“You started this, so you may as well get it over with,” Lexa responded.
***
Alex moved a chess piece. “I don’t want you to go to work for that asshole Storm.”
“God, Alex, do we have to get into this now?”
“You wanted me to speak my mind, so I am.”
Lexa moved a chess piece. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but Dr. Cross thinks—”
Alex laughed mockingly. “Cross! You think I give a shit what that fuck thinks?” He picked up a chess piece and slammed it down on the board. “I hate that fuckin’ prick, and so should you!”
***
Claude put down his newspaper and exhaled a deep sigh of frustration. When he started to get up from the table, Amanda reached over and clutched his arm. “Dr. Cross told us not to interfere,” she reminded him. “They’ll work out their issues by themselves.”
Against his better judgement, Claude conceded to the doctor’s orders and sat back down. Dr. Cross knew best, didn’t he?
Amanda pushed aside her inner doubt, smiled reassuringly, and caressed her husband’s calloused hands.
***
Blind frustration seared Lexa’s brain like a red-hot branding iron.
He’ll never let me go. I know that now.
“I’m going to my room now. We’ll finish this another time.”
When his sister turned to leave, Alex gripped her by the arm to stop her. He moved up close behind her and whispered, “Look, some sick fuck’s already offed two of your best friends and there’s no telling who might be next. I’d die before letting anything bad happen to you.”
Lexa gently kissed her brother’s hand. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen to me, but I am going to work for Senator Storm as soon as I can.” Alex frowned and pulled away. “It’s my life, Alex,” Lexa said. “If I don’t start living it, what’s the point of having it?” She moved a piece on the chessboard. “Can’t you be happy for me? If I were you, I’d at least pretend to be.” She took Alex’s right hand and placed it over her heart, waiting for her brother to reciprocate.
Alex sighed. He brought up Lexa’s right hand and placed it over his heart.
Lexa smiled. “Always and forever.” She kissed her twin on his cheek and walked away.
Always and forever? Alex’s mood sullied with each leave-taking step Lexa made. His vision narrowed, his eyes zeroing in on his sister climbing the staircase.
Don’t you ever say those words to me again, Sis, unless you really mean them.
Alex picked up Lexa’s queen and hurled it into the fireplace.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
PALMER
Palmer and Delia Denton, a buxom eighteen-year-old brunette who looked like the physical incarnation of a men’s magazine fold out page, relaxed in a spacious, lighted Jacuzzi. Seductive music played softly through hidden built-in speakers. Between the Jacuzzi and the customized heated pool sat an open laptop, upon which Palmer’s Roommates page was displaying on its monitor.
Delia drained her glass of champagne and slid over toward Palmer, who was repeatedly failing his attempts to light his Zippo the way Bastian did the day before. “Are you sure we have the place to ourselves?” she asked.
“No worries. My parents won’t be home for another week.”
“What about your friends, the Magnanimous Seven?”
Palmer snickered. Guess you don’t need brains with tits like those. “They all have other plans.”
“How about a brother or sister who’s coming home for the weekend?”
“Nope, don’t have any.”
Delia’s interest was piqued. “You’re an only child?” she asked with a gold-digging grin.
“As far as I know.”
Delia fluffed up her breasts and snuggled closer to Palmer. “So you’re your parents’ sole heir?”
Palmer bowed in affirmation, setting his Zippo down next to the laptop.
Delia took off her DD-cup size bikini top, draping it around Palmer’s neck. “Like what you see?” Before her wide-eyed host could answer, she kissed his lips, her buxom breasts rubbing against his chest. “Mmmm, nice.” Delia picked up the champagne bottle and put it upside down into its silver chiller. “Want some more?” she asked Palmer seductively.
“Uh huh.” Palmer snapped out of his bosom induced haze. “Oh, champagne. Sure, there’s some in the pool house.”
Delia kissed Palmer softly and sensuously. “Be right back,” she said and climbed out of the Jacuzzi.
***
The Randolphs’ pool house resembled more of a luxury condo than simply a place for changing clothes.
Hiding within the grandiose dressing quarters, quietly and patiently waiting in the shadows, the hooded figure watched.
Delia crossed over the threshold into the immodestly decorated pool house. “Well la-di-da,” she muttered. Who said money couldn’t buy happiness? Once in the kitchen she was awestruck at the e
legant custom-made cabinets lining the walls. “So, if I was a bottle of champagne, where would I be?”
The hooded figure stealthily stalked toward the unsuspecting young female strolling barefoot through the kitchen.
Delia opened and closed several cabinet doors before finding the refrigerator. She opened the door and looked inside. The glow from the light gave Delia a surrealistic appearance that inexplicably excited the approaching hooded figure. As she closed the refrigerator door, she had a haunted feeling someone was watching her. Delia whirled around and gazed into the dimness behind her, but saw no one. After sighing with relief, she opened the cabinet door next to the refrigerator to reveal a fully stocked, floor-to-ceiling wine cooler.
“Voilà!”
She looked through the collection, selecting one of the bottles. “Dom Perignon, I guess you’ll do.” She shut the cabinet door, but before she could turn back around, the hooded figure clamped one hand over her mouth and held up a hunting knife in front of her face with the other.
***
A persistent knocking sound from his Roommates page drew Palmer’s attention. He moved his avatar to the peephole and typed:
Who’s knocking?
The peephole widened to reveal an avatar of a hooded figure with the screen name IWNTUDED.
Palmer closely examined the screen name. “I…want…you…de…” He shook his head and typed:
Bastian, you sick fuck.
IWNTUDED replied:
I am a sick fuck, but I’m not Bastian.
Palmer looked at the computer screen with a sudden sense of anxiety and typed:
Who is this?
IWNTUDED replied:
Someone who thinks you should share the wealth with the less fortunate.
Palmer laughed with relief. I knew it was you, shithead.
Okay, Bastian, how much cash do you need this time?
IWNTUDED responded:
I don’t want money, and I told you, I’m not Bastian.
Anger trumped Palmer’s fear as he typed:
Then who are you and what the fuck do you want?
IWNTUDED typed:
I’m a sick fuck, remember? As for what I want, let’s start with the whore in the pool house.
Right when Palmer stood and turned toward the pool house, he heard a beep and looked back at the laptop’s screen:
Sit down, or I’ll shove my knife into this whore’s skull.
Shocked, Palmer slowly sat back down.
Good. Now for your reward. A front row seat.
A live webcam picture opened to reveal Delia bound to a chair with duct tape covering her mouth. The hooded figure held up a stun gun in front of Delia’s bosom. A blue electric charge ignited between the two silver contacts, then promptly extinguished.
“You fuck,” Palmer breathed.
Delia sat whimpering helplessly while the hooded figure lovingly stroked her hair, slowly circling the stun gun’s contacts around one nipple and then the other.
Palmer typed:
NO.
The hooded figure casually pulled the stun gun away from Delia’s bosom, then viciously thrust it into the nipple of her left breast.
“No!” Palmer shouted as the stun gun’s two million volt discharge sent Delia into unconscious convulsions. He jumped out of the Jacuzzi and raced toward the pool house. On his way, he ripped off one of a pair of decorative wooden oars mounted near the entrance and burst through the pool house door.
Palmer raced into the kitchen and found the hooded figure standing next to Delia, who sat motionless with her left nipple charred and smoldering. Shaking with fear Palmer shouted, “You killed Kimber and Paige, didn’t you?”
The hooded figure shrugged “guilty as charged” whilst creeping toward the kitchen sink.
Palmer dug deep inside himself, looking for the adrenaline he needed to bolster his will to fight knowing if he didn’t man up, he’d be dead too. He tightened his grip on the oar and defiantly asked, “You wanna kill me too?”
Again the hooded figure gestured confirmation.
Palmer readied his oar for battle and shouted, “Then come on, asshole, kill me!”
The hooded figure reached back and turned the faucet on full blast, pulled out the sink’s rinsing hose, then held up the stun gun and shot a stream of water through the electric charge between the contacts. The electrically charged stream of water hit Palmer square in the chest and knocked him unconscious.
***
Palmer Randolph’s motionless body laid hogtied on the bottom of the drained Jacuzzi. Several splashes of strong-smelling liquid drew him back toward consciousness.
“Hey…where the…what…” Palmer’s reddened eyes began focusing as more of the foul liquid spattered down upon him. “What the fuck?” Managing to roll from off his stomach onto his side, he saw the hooded figure standing at the edge of the Jacuzzi holding something. His eyes strenuously adjusted enough to make out the words “GASOLINE” on the sides of two five-gallon cans.
Oh my God, he’s going to fucking burn me!
“No. No, don’t!”
The hooded figure doused Palmer with more gasoline from the can.
Palmer desperately tried to inchworm his way up the slippery sides of the gas-filled Jacuzzi, falling and rolling back down to the bottom. With a tearful voice he shouted, “What the fuck do you want!”
Completely ignoring his victim’s question, the hooded figure emptied the last of the gasoline out of the can and tossed it away.
The young man’s mind frantically scrambled to devise salvation from the terrible fate he knew awaited him. Everyone loved money, so he’d promise him anything, bribe him!
“My parents are rich and—”
The hooded figure picked up the remaining gas can, opened it, and poured its contents all over Palmer.
“They’ll pay you anything you want,” Palmer pleaded.
The hooded figure nonchalantly cast the can aside.
“Please, just let me go. I’ve done nothing to you. I don’t even know who you are!”
The hooded figure stood in calm silence for a few moments, holding up Palmer’s Zippo.
As the light of the moon glinted off the lighter’s high polish finish, a look of anger washes over Palmer’s face. “Goddamn you. Goddamn you to Hell!”
The hooded figure snapped the flint wheel to ignite the lighter and threw it into the Jacuzzi.
Palmer erupted into a fiery mass. He screamed and bounced violently about the inside of the Jacuzzi as his hair burned away and his flesh melted and deformed.
Using a smartphone, the hooded figure snapped pictures of Palmer in the eerie light of the flames from the Jacuzzi illuminating the pool area.
Palmer’s screams of agony rose above the roar of the flames, diminishing as his body grew still and lifeless.
***
The hooded figure sat in a filthy, half-lit room. Extra lighting now revealed more pictures of Lexa that were taped on the gritty walls. The monitor’s skull cursor moved over Palmer’s debonair face shot and replaced it with one of his blackened and burnt remains.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
REALITY IS PERSPECTIVE/PERSPECTIVE IS REALITY
Carrying shopping bags from high-end clothing stores, Lexa and Cassie passed by a restaurant where a waiter served flaming shish kabobs to customers eating alfresco. The anxiety gnawing away at Cassie’s psyche made her clutch tightly onto Lexa’s arm in a manner very uncharacteristic of her usual self-reliant persona.
What if there was a killer out there who was after the rest of them? She wouldn’t even be able to see him coming. What would she do? How could she protect herself?
Her mind split between safely navigating Cassie along the crowded sidewalk and deliberating how to win independence from her overly dependent twin, Lexa accidentally bumped into an aging, overweight man using a walker.
The man lost his balance momentarily, managing to steady himself before he fell. After muttering a masterfully crafted composition of e
xpletives, he glared at Lexa and barked, “Goddammit, you almost knocked me the fuck down!”
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Lexa said. “I guess I didn’t see you. Are you all right?”
“Didn’t see me?” He flamboyantly gestured to his rotund physique. “My ass isn’t big enough to catch your attention?” The portly man looked the two young women up and down. Just as he prepared to make another snide remark, he caught sight of the folded white cane dangling from Cassie’s wrist. The irony of it all was almost too much for him to acknowledge. He shook his head and muttered, “Talk about the blind leading the blind.”
The fat man rudely brushed past Lexa and Cassie, resuming his profane tirade down the sidewalk.
Ill from the verbal molestation, Lexa’s knees buckled. She sensed the presence of something far, far worse, the gut-wrenching feeling that preceded the oncome of one of her brain-splitting headaches. She fretfully darted her eyes until they caught sight of a familiar face; her own reflection in one of the storefront windows.
***
Fire had completely engulfed the cabin. When Lexa tried to run back inside, Alex tackled her and held her down on the ground.
“Let me go, Alex, please! Mommy and Daddy are in there!”
They’re screaming. They’re burning!
***
The fat man incident had also rattled Cassie with chagrin, dredging up all the old feelings of fear and insecurity that took her years to suppress after losing her sight. Forcing a smile, she said, “Lexa, let’s find a place to sit down for a minute, okay?” When there was no response, she prompted, “Okay?”