The greenhouse was the only place on the property where Novak felt like himself. One might think that place would be inside, with the women. But those same women left him feeling out of control. Especially Cassie. She was unlike all the others, and perhaps that’s why she survived. Take Alice, for instance. Weak. Weaker than most who came back with Novak. How had he missed it the night of the storm? She could never survive the attack that Cassie did. Novak wondered if Alice would simply give up and succumb to her fear.
He snipped a dying vine from a tomato plant and cut it into short pieces, then tossed the remains onto a bare patch of dirt while recounting that first night with Alice. The realization sunk in that it would have been best if he had killed her, as he had her three friends. His interest in the case would have diminished until the urge returned, which after four homicides would have stretched long enough that Cassie’s involvement would have been in the past. He’d never have even known she existed in the same geographic space as him. But allowing Alice to live—despite his future intentions toward the woman—had created the storm he now lived in.
He let her live and that meant someone would be actively searching for her. Novak didn’t fear them finding him. The police had always had trouble with that. And on the rare occasion they did find him, catching and then keeping him confined was never an easy task. In time, Novak always got his way.
“Alice, Alice, Alice,” he muttered, walking down the aisle with a green hose. He pulled the trigger on the spray nozzle and sent a wide cone of water over a section of vegetables. The dampened soil exacerbated the smell of compost. Novak pulled his shirt collar over his nose and fanned the air away from his face. It was the only part he couldn’t stand. Maybe it was time to fix the ventilation in this place?
His thoughts turned to Cassie. Why was it so difficult to keep his composure around her? She was the anti-Alice. Tough, dominant, and she’d just as soon kill him, or perhaps herself, than give in to him. That made him want her even more. In the end, she’d have no choice.
Novak finished his work in the greenhouse. After rinsing all his tools and putting them back in their storage space, he lifted the hatch and descended the rusted metal ladder bolted to the brick wall with a small flashlight clenched between his teeth. As was customary, he dropped to the ground with a few rungs left. Getting Cassie down the ladder had been no easy task. He didn’t care if most of his visitors enjoyed a spill to the ground. Cassie had been no different in that regard.
The tunnel was ten feet underground, sealed in by bricks. It was there when he first came across the property almost two decades ago. Over the years several of the bricks had fallen out of place. Novak had been diligent in replacing them, but his time away in prison had led to more and more damage. Water dripped in many sections now, pooling in several spots. This was expected, considering they weren’t that far above sea level. He couldn’t believe it when he found the property. It had been a steal. He bought it off an old man who had no idea what he was sitting on. The old coot had inherited it from his grandfather, who had grown up on the property. Apparently, the old guy hadn’t known about the tunnel between the guesthouse and the greenhouse.
Novak did nothing for upkeep to the property. From outside, the house looked abandoned. Grass stood waist-high. Weeds littered every acre of the lot. The cycle of the seasons took care of killing it all off and exploding it into growth again. The house, guesthouse, barn, and other structures on the property were in such disrepair he doubted teenagers looking for a place to make out would even bother going inside. Old wood siding adorned with chips of paint hung from rusted nails.
In a word, the place was perfect. No one would ever come looking for Novak there. And so long as they couldn’t find him, they couldn’t find his guests. Dead and alive, they could stay with him there for eternity. So long as he remained in place and stopped looking for new friends. Every time he added another to his collection, he put it all at risk.
He panned the flashlight across the floor twenty feet ahead. There had been a puddle of water there earlier that he would have to keep tabs on. God forbid the tunnel collapse. There’d be no way of repairing it, and the thought of crossing a hundred yards in the wide-open fields between the house and greenhouse was not a welcome one. The puddle had drained through the cracks in the floor. He ran his hand along the ceiling. Aside from the lingering condensation, the bricks felt solidly in place.
Another ladder identical to the first waited for him at the other end of the tunnel. He climbed up, hooked his left arm through a rung and unlatched the trap door with his free hand. There was no point in locking it. The end points were hidden from view.
The trap door swung up and over and collided on the ground with a loud thud that shook dust loose from the floor and ceiling. Novak held his breath as he pulled himself out of the tunnel to avoid breathing in the mold spores. He made his way to the kitchen, which was positioned in the center of the house with a window overlooking a field of cattails. There were two entrances to the room, both equipped with solid-core doors. This was the only room on the main or upper levels that he ever allowed light to be used. With the blinds and shades drawn, no one could see the light from the outside.
He lifted the ice chest lid and pulled out a couple of frozen water bottles. On the table was a bushel of bananas. He grabbed two. And from the small fridge he retrieved a turkey, ham and cheese sub, already cut in two equal pieces.
Feeding time was his favorite time. It was the only time he was certain his friends were appreciative of him.
Novak made his way to the cellar door. He flipped the switch on the wall and a single light over the stairs cut on, casting a dull yellow wash over the worn wood. A few of the stairs had bloods stains. He felt the side of his forehead, where he’d been cut earlier during the accident. Some of that blood on the floor was his. Some had come from Cassie. He ought to make her clean it up. She’d relish that job, though. A woman like her, she’d use it as a chance to get away.
As he descended into the cellar, it crossed his mind that he could put a choke collar on her. He still had one from Brutus, his Rottweiler they’d unceremoniously put to sleep when he’d been sent off to prison.
“Put to sleep,” he muttered. He’d like to put those bastards to sleep, starting with the piss-ant judge and his horrible excuse for a public defender. Not to mention all the damn detectives who had been involved.
He flipped two switches at the bottom of the stairs. As the stairwell light dissipated, another came on and lit up the room at the bottom. The low ceilings and concrete walls and floor absorbed light. It was cool and dry. There were no windows. A square iron light fixture hung from the ceiling over a long rectangular dining table. There were eight chairs around the table. He’d never managed to fill all of them. At most, he’d had a special dinner with four women and a friend.
Novak set a bottle of water, one half of the ham and turkey sub, and a banana on the table. He carried the rest over to Cassie’s room. He reached for the handle, paused, then rapped his knuckles against the door. Why not try to get things back on the right track? Perhaps if he showed a little kindness, she’d return the favor. His smile faded with every passing second the bitch didn’t bother to respond. He’d even been nice enough to untie her earlier!
He cleared his throat, and knocked again.
And again, there was no response.
Novak grabbed the knob and flung the door open. Cassie lay on her back in the middle of the bed. Her hands were folded over her stomach. Her legs were crossed at her ankles. She opened her eyes, but did not look at him, instead choosing to stare up at the ceiling.
“I brought you lunch,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb.
She blinked.
“Care to say anything?” he asked.
If she did, she opted not to.
He bit back his anger. That would only lead to him making a rash decision, and those kinds of decisions were often permanent. He didn’t want to take any action against Cassie that would result in her foregoing the pleasure of his company. He set the food on the bed and left the room without another word.
He thought about leaving the door open a little, just so she could hear everything that was about to happen. But he thought better of it as he exited. It was too soon for such gestures. She’d take advantage of it. Besides, she’d hear it anyway.
He picked up the next meal and walked to Alice’s room. Alice was not one to take advantage of his kindness. That was why her door was left cracked open an inch. And it hadn’t moved since he left. He extended his foot and nudged the door open wider.
“Hello, Alice.”
The woman huddled in the corner, naked, her knees drawn to her chest. Dark bags under her eyes made it look as though she hadn’t slept since she had arrived. Novak reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of crushed valium. He’d sprinkle it onto her sandwich.
She got up and went to the bed after he set her food down. Apparently satisfying her hunger was more important than hiding her body from him. She gnawed on the sub and took a healthy gulp of water.
“That’s a girl,” he said. “Eat it all. You’re gonna need your strength in a couple of minutes.”