Desperate Measures

He stared down into his coffee as he remembered the killing rage and grief that had made him half-crazed after Suzanna’s murder. His rage had been further fired by the fact that Max Clinton walked away a free man.

He gazed back at her. “Anyway, these six men all found themselves at the Northland Survivor Group. They were all looking for ways to deal with their emotions. They were hoping to learn some new coping skills or something to help them with their overwhelming pain.”

“And did they find what they needed?” she asked softly.

“No, they didn’t. They met several times for drinks after the meetings, talking about their grief and their rage at the system, but they found no relief until they decided to hatch a plan.”

Once again he paused, this time to take a drink of his coffee and eat a bite of his dessert. It was tasteless and he knew it was because his mouth was filled with the taste of grief and shame and the enormous bitterness of deep guilt.

He still couldn’t believe he’d actually been a part of the plot they had all come up with on that crazy night. It had definitely been a moment of temporary insanity.

“Anyway,” he continued, “the more these men all got together, the greater their anger grew.” A knot expanded and twisted tight in his chest. “And then one night they all met in the woods next to an old abandoned baseball field. It was on that night they came up with a stupid plan.”

This was the part where he had to get a little inventive in order to protect not only himself but the other men who had come up with what now was a horrendous plot. He definitely believed that one of them was the killer, but that meant he and four others were innocent.

“A stupid plan?” She put her fork down and stared at him intently.

He was afraid to tell, but there was also a part of him that wanted to spill his guts to her about everything...a part of him that needed to get this burden off his chest.

“You have to remember that we were all crazy with grief,” he said, as if that somehow mitigated what they’d planned to get the justice they all wanted.

“This is a judgement-free zone,” she replied.

He released a deep sigh. “To be honest, I don’t know for sure who came up with the idea, but it was planned that we would each kill another man’s killer. For instance, I’d kill the man who murdered Nick Simon’s wife. Nick would kill the man who beat Matt Harrison’s mother to death, and so on.”

He paused and watched her features carefully, seeking a sign of shock and revulsion. But none was there. All he saw was open curiosity.

“Looking back at that meeting in the woods, it seems like a bad dream, not something that really happened. But it did.” He paused and drew a deep breath. “And we all walked away from that meeting thinking we were going to act on that plan. But when it came right down to it, I would have never been able to kill a man, no matter what heinous crimes he’d committed, and I believe the others were just like me. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of the murder pact was appealing, but I didn’t believe any of it would really happen.”

The waitress’s entering the room with a coffeepot interrupted the conversation. She topped off their coffee, and he handed her his charge card and then once again she left the room.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I didn’t believe any of it was really going to happen until the first man was killed.” His chest tightened with tension as he remembered reading about the murder in the paper.

“Brian McDowell,” she said. “He’s the man who beat Matt Harrison’s mother to death.”

“Right. Nick Simon was supposed to kill him, but Nick didn’t kill him, and that’s when I believe the Vigilante Killer was born.”

“So, you believe the Vigilante Killer is one of four men?”

“I don’t believe that any of the men who got their so-called justice through the Vigilante Killer is guilty. I think the killer is one of the last two men. He’s either Clay Rogers or Adam Kincaid.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Her eyes were lit with an eagerness that made him second-guess his crazy decision to trust her.

Still, he figured in for a penny, in for a pound. “I’ve been thinking about it since Max Clinton was murdered.” An idea had been whirling around in his head since the morning he’d read about Max’s death in the paper. “I know all the murders have happened between midnight and two in the morning, so I figure the only way to identify the killer is to watch these two men during those hours until one of them makes a move.”

“And then what?”

“Once I know for sure who the killer is, then I’ll take him down. Hopefully I can subdue him and then contact the police. I need to get him behind bars.” He frowned. “I think this person likes to kill, Monica. And the carving in the foreheads of his victims speaks of a bloodlust that is absolutely disgusting.”

“I completely agree. There’s only one thing I ask. Once we identify the killer, I want time to break the story before anyone else gets it,” she replied. Her eyes gleamed brightly.

He didn’t miss her use of “we” in her sentence. “I can give you that,” he replied. “But this is something I need to do for myself and there’s no reason for you to get involved in this at all. I’ll let you know when I have confirmation on who the killer is and you’ll have your story.”

“But I am involving myself. I want to be a part of this. Jake, I want to do the surveillance with you,” she protested.

There was one more interruption by the waitress to bring back his receipt and credit card.

“Monica, this could be dangerous,” he said once they were alone again. “Whoever the killer is, the last thing he wants is to get caught. He’s ruthless.”

“I know that, but think about it—two people are better than one. We could do surveillance from your car one night and then from mine the next night to make sure nobody gets suspicious. We can wake each other up if we drift off to sleep.”

He shook his head. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. One of the reasons I told you all this is that I want somebody else to know in case something happens to me.”

“Why would something happen to you?”

“I don’t know, but if this man is as ruthless as I believe him to be, then all the rest of us in the pact are loose ends. If he catches wind that I’m hunting him, then there’s no question he’ll come after me.”

“I still want to be a part of this. I have the two names of the men you think it might be. I’ll just conduct my own surveillance if I’m not doing it with you.” Her chin shot up a notch and her eyes held a definite challenge.

“Don’t make me regret I told you all this,” he said. Damn, he should have never given her the names of the two men he suspected. That had been careless of him.

“Then don’t try to cut me out of the action,” she replied. She reached out and covered his hand with hers, the unexpected pleasant touch sparking an electric jolt in him. “Please, Jake. Don’t try to shut me out of this.” She pulled her hand back. “Why don’t I plan on being at your house tomorrow night at eleven thirty and we can get started.”

“Okay,” he finally relented. The last thing he wanted was for her to go off all half-cocked and either screw things up or get herself killed. He already had enough guilt in his heart to last a lifetime. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

“I am,” she agreed.

He’d already taken care of the tab, so they left the private room, walked through the main dining area and then stepped out into the hot night air.

“Hey, bitch,” a deep voice shouted from behind them.

They both turned and Jake got a quick look at a dark-haired scruffy-looking man standing on the sidewalk. The man raised his hand and threw something.

Jake grabbed her to his chest and whirled her around to protect her as a beer bottle shattered on the sidewalk next to them.

“What the hell?” With Monica behind him he turned to confront the man. But he was gone, the sound of his running feet on the pavement letting Jake know the man was retreating. A few moments later a car door slammed in the distance and then a car roared by them.

“Bitch!” the man yelled out of the window as he drove by.

“What was that all about?” he turned and asked Monica.

“That was Larry Albright. He’s a local contractor I did an exposé on a couple of days ago. He had ripped off dozens of homeowners, mostly elderly people, by telling them they needed new roofs. He then not only overcharged them but also used substandard materials. Needless to say, he’s not happy with my reporting.”

“What’s he doing? Stalking you?” Jake asked in alarm.

“Apparently that’s what he did tonight.”

“Have you called the police?”

“No, I don’t think he’s a real threat to me. And in any case, he’s been charged with half a dozen crimes and he was released on his own recognizance. He knows one phone call to the police from me and he’ll wind up in jail to await his trial. He’s just blowing off some steam. And now, thank you for dinner, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He watched as she walked to her car. She looked gorgeous with the last gasp of sunlight playing in her dark hair. She walked with a sexy confidence despite the height of her heels.

Still, no matter how attractive he found her, no matter how eager she was or how much he implicitly trusted her, he couldn’t help but feel this whole situation just might have disaster written all over it.

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