THE NEXT AFTERNOON I USE the school’s computer to log on to “my” site. I reregister, scroll the posts, find j_d_l, and see that he is online. My heart kicks in a beat as I instant message him the same thing I had before:
ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO PLAY?
WHO IS THIS? he messages back.
I THINK YOU KNOW WHO . . .
I TRIED TO IM YOU LAST NIGHT BUT IT SAID YOUR ACCT WAS TAKEN DOWN . . . ??? I THINK YOU’RE MISUNDERSTOOD. I THINK U NEED A FRIEND.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’m not getting chatty with this guy. PLAY OR NOT?
He doesn’t immediately respond, then: PLAY.
I smile. GOOD. I’LL LEAVE AN ENVELOPE FOR YOU IN THE TRASH IN FRONT OF CVS, CORNER OF HAYCOCK AND RTE 7, FALLS CHURCH. PICK IT UP AT 8 PM. I sign off.
Bucky works at the same CVS. Tonight I’ll find out if he and j_d_l are connected. And if the task force just monitored that message, they’ll probably be there too. I’ll have to be extra cautious, extra alert.
At seven forty-five I’m in my Jeep in the CVS parking lot. There are many stores in this strip mall, many cars, so mine blends in just fine. I don’t see any cop cars. Then again if the task force is here, they’re probably undercover.
I eye the garbage can right in front of CVS. The garbage I’ve put nothing in. I just want to see who approaches it.
7:50. I get my iPhone ready to snap a few pictures.
7:55. Someone comes out of CVS and someone else goes in.
8:00. An elderly lady throws away a bag of McDonald’s.
8:05. A man dressed in a business suit puts his cigarette out in the top tray.
8:10. I glance around the parking lot. What is j_d_l’s game? If he was indeed following me the night I did Aisha, I was in Victor’s car. If he was following me the night I almost did Jacks, I was in my Jeep. That night I went out to “CVS” a dark car was following me. Then there’s the dark BMW that was outside my grief group with a woman behind the wheel. The first dark car could have very well been a BMW. Or maybe the whole thing is just a coincidence.
The thing is—I don’t believe in coincidences.
The one thing I do know for certain is that Aisha is now out of the equation because she is in jail.
8:15. A young boy hesitantly approaches the garbage can. He looks around, lifts the lid, and peers inside. He moves things, looks over his shoulder, and then puts the lid back on.
I follow the direction of his look but don’t see anything notable. Just cars and people trickling in and out of stores.
The boy walks away in the opposite direction from which he approached, and I fight every urge in me to follow. That boy’s a decoy and j_d_l is somewhere watching. I know it.
Sneaky bastard.
He’s good at playing my game.
Or maybe that was the task force using a lure.
Either way, I sit right where I’m at, watching cars come and go from the many entrances in and out of the strip mall. Most of them are dark cars. None of them are BMWs.
Bucky emerges from CVS. He doesn’t even glance at the garbage can, but he stands for a second and just looks around. His eyes go right over my Jeep before turning away. He walks the length of the shopping center, and I wait until he’s all the way down past the grocery store before pulling out.
Several other cars pull out too, all going in different directions.
Slowly I crawl along, keeping track of him as he hangs a right and starts walking along the shadowed sidewalk. The trail my brother mentioned is just a few blocks ahead, and I’d bet anything that’s where he’s headed.
That trails leads all the way back to the neighborhood where he resides. Which means I’m going to have to park and follow on foot.
In my Jeep I pass him with a glance in the rearview mirror. I don’t see one single headlight. No one is following me. I drive beyond the trail’s head and park along the street next to a condo building.
As I double-check my supplies, I keep an eye on the sidewalk, waiting for Bucky’s appearance.
I survey the area around me again and still see nothing out of the ordinary. Just a dark street and a sprinkling of houses. No one has followed me. I’m certain I’m alone.
Bucky comes up the sidewalk and cuts a right onto the trail.
Silently I climb from my Jeep, and as I follow behind, I lower my mask over my head.
This section of the trail is skinny and bordered by woods on both sides. It’s perfect for what I have in store.
Bucky’s phone rings, and while he answers, I tune in to my surroundings one last time. Cold night. The scent of a fireplace in the air. A dog barking way in the distance. Nobody out. Except me and Bucky.
My lips curve. I’ve got this guy all to myself.
One must control animal instincts, not stimulate them. I don’t suppose my aikido sensei would agree with what I’m about to do.
I don’t pull my Taser out. I want hand-to-hand with this guy. I need it. “Bucky,” I whisper.
He turns.
I go right at it, slamming the heel of my hand into his nose, just like I did Aisha. Blood spurts and I smile.
“What the . . . ?” He stumbles back.
I grab the front of his jacket and knee him in the balls.
He goes down coughing and hacking.
I rear back and kick him in the ribs.
He coughs some more and throws a missed punch in my direction.
I nail him in the eye.
On his butt, he scoots away, blood and saliva driveling from his mouth.
I don’t give him a second to retaliate as I whack the blade of my hand into the side of his neck.
He gurgles. “Fuck . . .”
I grab his head and slam it into the ground. “I hate that word.”
Bucky holds his hands up. “Stop!”
I look into his eyes. Really look. And see fear there. That is the exact look I’m waiting for. I grab a handful of dirt and rub it into his face, and while he spurts, I yank a zip tie around his wrists and take a step back.
Breathing heavily, I look down at his pathetic body and remember him shoving me up against my Jeep. Dickweed. I also remember the first couple of people I took down and the mistakes I made. Look at me now, standing here unharmed. It’s too awesome. I raise my Taser.
“Don’t!” he screams, and my blood thumps. “God! What do you want? My wallet’s in my back pocket.”
I lower my voice and ask, “Are you JDL?”
“What? Shit. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Who did the prostitute and the homeless boy? Who did Jacks?”
“What?” He tries to scoot away again. “I didn’t do anything to anybody.”
I kneel down and shove the Taser right in his face.
“Wait,” he pleads. “What do you want? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Did Aisha do them?”
“Aisha?” He coughs. “She’s in jail!”
I know that, you idiot. “What do you know about the Masked Savior?”
He starts to cry. Unbelievable. Not so tough now.
“I’ve been on the site,” he blubbers. “I’ve posted a few things. But I promise I haven’t done anything wrong. I promise.”
“Have you been following me?”
“No,” he whimpers.
The smell of urine permeates the air, and I don’t even glance down to verify he’s peed himself. This guy doesn’t know anything. He’s scared shitless. Or rather, pissless.
“You will stop everything you are doing,” I tell him. “Masked Savior website, drugs to kids.” His eyes widen, and I think of how scared Justin was to tell me about this guy. I grab his throat and squeeze, and he sucks in a raspy breath. “Oh, yeah, I know all about the drugs.”
I release him and stand back up. “We clear?”
“Yes! Please, just don’t hurt me anymore.”
“If I hear your name again, I will find you and I will do so much more.” I turn away from him and disappear back down the trail. Sure, I left him zip-tied, but he can still get up and walk home. Or crawl for all I care.
After tonight Justin won’t have to be scared again. Because I meant what I said. If I hear Bucky’s name one more time, I will do so much more to that asswipe.
When I get back to my Jeep, I stow my mask and drive off. If this guy knew anything about j_d_l, he would’ve squealed. Bucky’s not my copycat. I saw the truth in his face.
Despite what the task force may or may not think, the fact is—as I’ve already surmised—until another victim shows up, I won’t know for sure if Aisha was or was not my impersonator.
As of right now I still think she may have been.