Later, Dan watched Andrea exit the electronic doors, wave to him, and hurry to his car.
“How did it go? Find out anything new?” she asked as she fastened her seatbelt.
“That was a waste of time: they were closed,” Dan grumbled.
“Not a waste for me. I got my shopping done for the week, so I don’t have to worry about it later. I’m starved, though.”
“Me, too. Let’s get some barbeque. Then I have another appetite you can feed.”
Andrea smiled as she envisioned feasting herself upon the man sitting next to her. She had a hot dessert in mind for him tonight, better than the appetizer.
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Wednesday afternoon, July 11th
“Did you see this morning’s paper, Dan?” Mory asked, flipping the paper onto his desk. “Starr wrote a blistering article on Sam Parks and his wife. He makes it sound like they had a game going with elderly women of the city. If Starr’s right and she goes free, I bet the new widow will be scared out of town.”
“Let me see that.” Dan grabbed the paper and began to read. The column described the attack on Dorothy Evans and hinted that the police thought Parks had attacked other elderly women, with his wife’s knowledge. He wrote that the ledger Sam kept only contained first names, so there was no real record for the last few years. Starr asked anyone who has any knowledge of Sam Parks to come forward to the police for help, or come to the paper and they will print their story if they wanted to tell it. The following day, he claimed his column would focus on safety tips for the elderly women. “Well, what do you know? Starr pretending to have a soft spot and a big streak of decency. An article on safety tips for the elderly. What a crock! He’s probably hoping that someone will come forward who gets saved by his tips article and that’ll help his career. He’s not thinking about the women.”
“You and I know that, but most of them probably don’t. Maybe someone will read it and follow his advice. If it saves their life, who cares how they learned it?”
“You’re right, Mory. This guy just gets under my skin. I’m going to find out what makes him tick and then I’m going to shut him down.”
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Friday night, July 13th
“Do you believe in superstitions?” Andrea asked, sitting in her condo.
“Not really. Why? Because it’s Friday the thirteenth? My life has been unlucky enough for the last few weeks. I don’t seem to need a special day for it,” Dan responded.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Except for you, my life hasn’t been going so great.”
“I have some news for you. Ray told me this afternoon that Mrs. Parks is having a really tough time. Besides facing accomplice charges by the District Attorney, she’s also lost her job. Her charity family has decided they don’t want anything to do with her, so she’s essentially been ostracized by the community. Her family and friends have lost respect for her and refused to allow her into their homes anymore. Nobody believes she’s innocent or ignorant. She came in this afternoon, crying and hysterical, blaming everyone but herself and her worthless husband. It’s amazing how people can do that: blame everyone but themselves for their plight.”
“I’m sorry this had to happen to her, but she could have left that scumbag and turned him into authorities long ago. She stayed with him and gave him the cover to continue his crimes against those women. Maybe Starr has finally done some good with his column. Has anyone else come forward against Parks?” Dan asked.
“Not yet, and to be honest, I doubt they will. What good would it do at this point? Parks is dead, and they’ve managed to hide it from their families. Why would they want to bring their nightmare to light? I wouldn’t if I were in their shoes. Their testimony wouldn’t convict him and they’d have to go through a lot if they came forward. I can’t blame anyone for remaining silent. It will be difficult, but not impossible, to prove beyond that shadow of doubt crap that Cheryl Parks had any knowledge of what had happened to them. I know I wouldn’t come forward if I were in that position.”
“You wouldn’t? That surprises me.”
“Why?” she asked, her gaze melded to his.
“I thought you would want to come forward and prove the system works.”
“Oh, but you see, Dan, I know it doesn’t work all the time. In this instance, I know my story wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to embarrass me and bring out my secrets on live TV or be published in Starr’s paper. No, thanks.”
“I can’t imagine anything in your past that couldn’t withstand TV’s or Starr’s scrutiny,” Dan challenged.
“I think everyone has skeletons in their closet that they don’t want exposed to the world. The skeleton doesn’t have to be bad for one to not want it read or viewed by the masses. I peed in my pants in class in the fourth grade. Not a particularly horrible thing for someone who had just lived through the loss of her parents, but I surely don’t want the people of this town to know about it. And that’s not even close to being raped and humiliated. No, I think I’d keep my tragedy to myself.”
“You peed in your pants? Really? In the fourth grade?”
“Dan, you’re not getting my point.”
“No, I got your point. To be honest, I wouldn’t come forth either, and my secrets are much worse than that.”
“Oh, really? Like what, Lieutenant?”
“That’s for me to know and you not to find out. But there’s one way you might convince me to talk. In a weaker moment, that is,” Dan grinned at her and pulled her close.
“And what would that weaker moment be, Mr. Mallory?”
“Well, if you were to kiss me right here, and here, and wherever,” he teased as he pressed his lips against her neck and chest and then lifted his head to grin at her.
“You’re a prick tease, Dan Mallory.”
“But you want to know, don’t you, Andi? Why don’t you try it and see if you can learn anything new? Yes, there and there. Oh my God, there,” Dan whispered as Andrea lowered her head and didn’t take long to send him over ecstasy’s precipice. Afterward, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, too exhausted and sated to ask or answer any more questions.
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Saturday night, July 14th
“Wake up, you assholes. The Avenger has two men to fuck tonight and I’m really horny. I’ve never had any black ass before. Man, I’m pumped! You didn’t really think you’d get away with your crimes, did you? Yeah, I guess you did, since the courts turned you loose. But thwarted Justice has a friend on her side: Me. This is gonna be so much fun. I’ve only had two holes at a time before. Now, I’ve got four to use tonight.”
Otis tried to lift his head to see who was talking to him. His head felt strange and he couldn’t remember how and why he had passed out. He heard something that sounded like glass breaking on the floor. Suddenly his back felt as if it was being slashed to shreds, and blood rolled down his sides. Now, he was wide-awake, furious and stoked. He vowed to kill the stupid motherfucker who was dicing his flesh while laughing. But his arms and legs were bound so tight he couldn’t shift an inch in either direction. Where was Leon? Did this bastard have him, too? Something had been stuffed in his mouth and tied around his head, so he couldn’t see who had sliced him and wasn’t able to call out to his friend.
“Damn, Otis, you bleed red just like the rest of us. Did that smart, honey? I bet you like it rough. Paula liked it rough, too, didn’t she? She wanted you to cut her up and make her bleed. The smell of her own blood and her pain turned her on, didn’t it? Well, Otis, baby, the erotic scent of your blood is turning me on. I need some satisfaction. I wonder if chocolate ass is as good as creamy white pussy. Soon we’ll find out, won’t we?”
Otis felt hands part his buttocks no matter how tightly he tried to squeeze them together. No fucking way is this bastard going to—Oh, shit, that hurts! Searing pains shot up his back and into his neck like jolts of lightning. He struggled against the chafing ropes, swearing mutely of his rapist’s demise. As his anus was invaded without mercy, he remembered the “honky bitch” him and Leon had played with that particular night. Paula was gonna get it worse than she could ever imagine when he got out of this mess. Leon had said they ought to kill her, but he hadn’t wanted to risk a murder charge with his already too long rap sheet. He hadn’t been worried about leaving her alive after they’d had their fun, because no bitch of any skin color had ever turned them in to the law. He had been certain no high society cunt was gonna go to the cops and tell them two black dudes had just fucked her rich white ass and pussy and shot off in her pretty mouth. Shit, it was the cunt’s fault they’d had to cut her up to make her do ‘em both at the same time. Damn, that piece of honky meat had made a great sandwich between two slices of black bread.
But Otis recalled how wrong he’d been in Paula’s case, and wished he’d taken Leon’s advice to slice her throat and dump her body in the Savannah River, with rocks tied to it to weigh it down until it rotted. She had gone to the police and told them everything after she scrubbed herself inside and out and burned the clothes she’d been wearing, which was damn good luck for him and Leon. She gave the cops a description of them and his car and picked them out of a line-up, but their lawyer had torn her up in the witness booth, saying she had gone out for a night of bi-racial fun, then changed her mind when things got rough and tried to blame the first two black men she could find. The nearly all black jury hadn’t convicted them.
Otis’s attention was jerked back to reality. Motherfucker, when was this bastard gonna finish? If it didn’t stop soon, his asshole would be ruined for life.
“I’ve heard that once you go black, you never go back. I have to say, Otis, you’re one of the finest pieces I’ve had so far.”
Otis felt slime ooze into his rectum and feared for a second his bowels were going to be yanked inside out upon withdrawal. His stomach was churning and the muscles in his rear end were spasming in agony. Yeah, he was gonna kill this homo and that white piece of ass. They were gonna die slow and mean for this one.
“Hey, Otis, my dick is hard again; but since your ass is a real mess, you’re gonna have to blow me off, man. Wrap those big black lips around my cock and suck hard, baby. And I’ll tell you like I told the last guy: you bite me and I’ll smash your teeth to pieces with this hammer, then use it to pound your face and brains into pulp. You believe me, Otis? Nod if you do.”
Fuck you! Otis mentally screamed. I’ll bite the head off your filthy homo dick if you put it anywhere near my face. He refused to nod and remained as still and rigid as possible. Then, he heard a familiar sound and recognized the smell.
The Avenger lit a cigarette and blew smoke into the air. The end moved closer and closer to Otis’s back. “I asked you a question, Otis. Did you hear what I said? I didn’t get an answer and I’m not a patient man. Bite me and you lose your teeth and what few brains you have. Hell, I might cut off your cock with this knife and feed it to the first hungry dog I see on my way home. Wouldn’t be no stitching it back on after he chewed it up and swallowed it. You got that?”
Again, Otis refused to move or nod.
The glowing lit cigarette was touched lightly against his dark and sweaty back. As Otis arched against the pain, he heard, “I don’t like it when people ignore me, Otis. I asked for an answer and I didn’t get it. Don’t ignore me, Otis.” And the cigarette burned into his flesh time and time again until many singed circles were evident on his shiny skin. “You burned Paula pretty bad with your cigarettes, didn’t you, Otis? She wanted it like this just as much as you do, didn’t she? Well, you gonna suck me off or do I have to fetch my blade and remove your dick?”
Otis’s onslaught was halted as his head bobbed up and down as vigorously as he was able to do in his confined state. His attacker went to the other side of the bed, removed the gag, and then rammed the massive object into Otis’s mouth.
Otis thought for a moment about biting the prick, but quickly changed his mind as he recalled the man’s threats and believed them. He almost retched as the huge member provoked his gag reflex and caused him to convulse with rocking heaves. When he started regurgitating, it was removed. After he stopped, the oral assault was renewed.
“Now Otis, it’s not nice to puke on somebody during sex. Paula threw up so many times that she was left with dry heaves. I wonder how long it will take you to get to that point. Let’s try again, shall we? I’m sure your asshole is as clear and tasty to you as hers was to her.” Otis’s mouth was besieged until he threw up again. “Okay, one more time and your stomach should be empty. I’m getting ready to empty myself, too, and I want you to swallow all of it. Don’t miss a single delicious drop.”
Mother fucking homo bastard, Otis cursed. He smelled and tasted his vomit and excrement. The scent of his urine was heavy in the stifling air. Suddenly his mouth was filled with warm fluid. Before he could spit out it and other horrible debris, the sock was poked into his mouth. He was forced to swallow reflexively as the Avenger held a burning cigarette to his balls then his joystick. He passed into sweet oblivion.
When he awoke, Otis thought he must be dead. He wanted to barf again at the foul taste in his mouth and odors in his nose. The attacker was behind him, talking and moving against something from the slapping and bumping sounds. But he couldn’t feel contact with him. The other bed was shaking, its springs squealing. Somebody was moaning and writhing. Then he remembered calling Leon over to his place. Oh, man, Leon was gonna be pissed as hell at him. That nigger’s crazy! He listened as the same threats and punishments were issued to his friend. He heard Leon groaning through his gag. Then it stopped and the room grew quiet. That scared him more than anything. Was this crazy fag gonna come back to him? He urinated again when he felt a warm, sticky hand touch his bare behind.
“You didn’t think we were through, did you, Otis? We were just getting started. We have lots of playing to do. You and Leon took turns with Paula. Over and over again. Then, you two worked on her as a team. It’s a real shame I can’t fuck both of your holes at the same time like you and Leon did to Paula. I bet you’d really enjoy that, just like she did, isn’t that right? Maybe I should have brought a friend over with me. Nah, this way, it’s double my pleasure and double my fun. There’s only one of me, but I’ve got the stamina of six men. This could go on all night.”
And it did. Over and over, the two men were anally sodomized and forced to perform fellatio on the vengeful stranger. When one passed out, it was the other’s turn. Their backs were covered with cigarette burn marks and with cuts from the broken beer bottles on the floor. The stench of vomit, feces, and urine permeated the air. Fear and humiliation lent their own sweaty scents.
Otis knew he couldn’t take any more. His bowels were going to let loose and spew all over that fag behind him. Surely a shit shower would discourage the bastard! Before he lost control, however, the Avenger moved near his face. Not again, he groaned. Didn’t this man ever give out? How could he get his cock hard so many times, because the fag shot off every time his mouth and ass were invaded! He had fucked Paula three or four times, but eventually he’d gotten tired of her. His sides ached from up chucking and dry heaves. His throat burned from puking; so did his nose from the overflow. His jaw throbbed from wrapping his cracked and bleeding lips around the huge prick. His back was a sheet of torment. His asshole would never recover from its violent abuse. His wrists, ankles, cock and balls were surely scarred for life. He was drenched in sweat. He was lying in piss, vomit and shit. The air reeked with their combined odors. This homo is an animal. Maybe there’s more than one. Maybe just one of them was doing the talking, but there were a bunch of honkies in the room, getting their kicks by torturing two black dudes. That thought churned his stomach again, and he wondered which end would erupt next.
“Tell me, boys, are either of you sorry for what you did to that poor girl? I’d bet my life and soul neither of you feel bad, even with me showing you how badly you hurt and shamed her. How you ruined her body, spirit, and life. You aren’t thinking about apologies, confessions, and serving the sentences you deserved. All you want to do is torture and kill me and Paula. You escaped rightful punishment. You made me do this necessary evil. Now all of your victims have been avenged and there won’t be any future ones. Look at me, Otis. I want you to see my face before you die.”
No man, don’t kill me. We didn’t kill Paula. Let me go, man, please. I don’t wanna die. I’m the one that told Leon not to kill her, man. Please. The mental pleadings were unheard by his abuser. He felt a sting on his inner arm as a needle slid into his vein. The blindfold was yanked off and he looked into the most toxic green eyes he had ever seen. Otis had little time to notice anything else as the plunger released a lethal dose into his bloodstream and blackness overcame him.
The Avenger’s attention focused on Leon. Paula had stated that he was the one who had wanted to kill her, the one who had been the most brutal. A cigarette lighter in hand, Otis’s executioner walked behind Leon and lit the flame next to his testicles. The smell of burnt hair and flesh filled the air, briefly overpowering the other foul odors.
Leon writhed and groaned before he passed into unconsciousness.
The Avenger packed the nylon bag with the things that had been used to torture the men. Certain areas of the floor were littered with pieces of shattered beer bottles that would remain for the police to fingerprint, because there was nothing incriminating on them. Those locations were avoided to prevent revealing glass fragments from embedding themselves in the invader’s shoe soles.
Cigarette butts were gathered and placed in a baggie for disposal later to prevent saliva samples in their filters from providing identity clues. It also was possible—using certain chemicals and special lighting—to retrieve lip prints, and to obtain a tissue sample if a lip stuck to a filter and pulled off even a tiny piece of skin. A careful examination of the location made sure all precautions had been taken. Everything was ready for the final task, then departure.
“Wake up, Leon. It’s time for me to go home now. ‘I feel good’, as James Brown would say. But I’m tired and we have one last thing to do.”
Leon moaned and lifted his head slightly. He didn’t feel the needle on his arm, as his nerves seemed concentrated below his waist, front and back. I’ll kill all of ‘em when this is over. I’ll start with Otis, that whining little shit. He should’ve killed that white bitch, but Otis had complained and –not in the mood to listen to it—they’d let her go. Now, look what had happened. Yes, Otis was going to be the second one he killed, right after this faggot who had burnt his balls to a crisp. He felt the blindfold coming off and tried to give his attacker the look that had sent terror into many people. But when he saw who was standing before him, his mouth went agape and his gaze widened. Before any words would form, his vision blurred and he slumped to the mattress, dead.
“Paula, I wish you could have seen his face. He couldn’t believe who was punishing him. Tippi, I can hardly wait to tell you about it. These assholes won’t be raping anybody else. White, black, red or yellow, good or bad, no woman deserves violent treatment. Justice has been served with a spoonful—” the vigilante grinned, “—or more of their own medicine.”
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A freshly showered James Starr stood near the two dead bodies and smiled. This story was going to land him in the big time, just as he’d planned. He’d be able to name his price to any of the top affiliates and they’d want to snatch him up fast. The price war that would be waged for his contract would take months, as he wouldn’t make a too hasty decision. Quickly, he took pictures of the dead men and surrounding scene. He re-read the perfect contents of the paper lying on the bed. Oh, man, this is good, the best Avenger job so far. He flashed his camera several more times, satisfied he’d gotten the best shot of the corpses and a readable copy of the note. He concealed the film in his underwear, reloaded his camera, and took a few more shots, as he suspected his film or camera would be confiscated. After visually scanning the scene to be certain he hadn’t missed anything of importance or relevance, he walked to the phone, called 911 and waited for the police to arrive.
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Henrietta saw Starr sitting calmly on the sofa when she walked in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to be inside a crime scene and you know it. If you’ve tampered with or destroyed crucial evidence, you’re in big trouble.”
The deputy divulged, “He’s the one who phoned it in, ma’am.”
“What?” Henrietta wasn’t sure she had heard the man correctly.
“He’s the one who called 911. Said he got an anonymous tip a few hours ago from a person claiming to be the Avenger. The caller told him to come to this address and he’d find criminals who had needed to be punished. Starr thought it might be someone playing a joke on him because of his column, so he decided to check it out first. He called us as soon as he realized this wasn’t a prank, and two men had been killed. He waited here to see if we had any questions for him, since he’s the one that found the bodies. He told us he didn’t see anybody leaving the house or the surrounding area.”
Henrietta snorted, dubious of Starr’s claim. There was more to this suspicious story James had reported, and she’d make sure Dan and Mory were aware of it. Meanwhile, they’d gone fishing yesterday morning to get out of town for a while after checking with the station and her lab to make sure nothing had happened on Friday night. “Damnation, I don’t care if he called it in or not! He’s scattered and picked up evidence on his shoes, and any hairs or fibers he dropped will confuse the samples I gather. He’ll have to be processed by my team, so we can rule out his contributions to the scene. Don’t let him leave or move until we’re done with him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Henrietta walked towards the rear of the small cottage where she heard two more officers talking. Irritation set in as she grasped the content of their discussion.
“Go Avenger. Maybe next he’ll get a child molester or baby killer.”
“No, man. He needs to get the drug pushers and gang members first. Then he can go after the other perverts.”
“I don’t know how he gets his dick hard enough to do this much damage. I have to admit, it gives me satisfaction to see some of these assholes finally get their due. Looks like he scared the crap outta these two.”
“Gentlemen,” Henrietta said, making her voice as cold and hard as steel. She knew anger showed in her expression, but she didn’t give a damn. “If you’ll excuse me, we have work to do here.”
Deputies Tom Hinks and Bob Jeffords were glad to escape her glacial green glare. They crept out of the room away from the ME’s wrath to continue their discussion. They joked about starting a pool to see how many more criminals the Avenger would get before he made a mistake and was arrested. Or moved on.
Henrietta and Harold set to work gathering evidence. As Harold took pictures, gathered the pieces of glass and other items and placed them in marked bags, Henrietta examined the first of the two bodies.
Harold asked, “What’s that weird odor, Henri? Something smells odd over here.”
“Just vomit, urine and excrement.”
“No, it’s something else, and it’s stronger on this side of the room. What is it?” Harold persisted, as he sniffed here and there.
Henrietta walked to the other victim, sniffed the putrid air and caught the strange odor. “It’s familiar, but I can’t place it. The name tickles my brain, but I can’t seem to identify it.” She felt a lump on the back of one victim’s skull. “He must have been struck with something hard. But how did our killer knock out the other guy? I suppose he surprised and disabled them one at a time.”
Henrietta went to the second victim. “There’s no lump anywhere on his head. That odd smell lingers but is dissipating with time and door openings.” Perplexed by the scent, Henrietta saw a white mark on the black man’s oily skin. She leaned over to examine it closely. “I think the Avenger just made his first mistake. Maybe we can get a print off of this one. Harold, come over here and take a picture and print of this.”
After the photo was taken, he dabbed a liquid over the scratch and surrounding area. He pressed special tape across it to make an impression, so the solution wouldn’t interfere with the fingerprinting.
Henrietta continued to examine both bodies and instructed Harold to pay close attention to anything that might be suspicious. “I’ll let you process that infuriating reporter. Bag his shoes and clothes; he can cover himself in a blanket and the sheets from one of the police cars. Get hair, skin and saliva samples. And his dang fingerprints. Since he may have corrupted our crime scene and screwed with the evidence, he had best not refuse to cooperate. Tell him, if he does, I’ll have him arrested until we can obtain a search warrant to go over him thoroughly. Oh, Harold, stress thoroughly, as in fecal specks in his penis folds. I want his film, because I’m sure he took pictures before we got here. And don’t forget nail scrapings.” Of course, there aren’t any at the lab for comparison, you sly devil.
“Yes, ma’am. Anything else, boss?”
“That ought to do it.”
“No sperm sample?” Harold asked.
“No warrant or justifiable reason to demand one. We can demand certain things to eliminate an intruder, but he isn’t a suspect of record. Let’s get busy so we can get these bodies into cold storage before the stench is worse,” Henrietta muttered. “Experiencing what their victim or victims endured, I wonder if these thugs felt any twinge of conscience before they died.”
Harold glanced over the men’s brutalized bodies and said, “I doubt it. But as the Avenger says, ‘Justice is served.’”
Henrietta would report her findings to Mory and Dan along with the news of Starr’s prior appearance on the scene. She reasoned that there was no need to page them at this hour. They couldn’t get back from Lake Hartwell before these bodies would require moving for closer exams, lab tests and cold storage. She surmised Dan was going to be really pissed off when he heard what had happened here tonight.