Catch & Neutralize (15 page)

Chapter 28

Raw jealousy over Angie enveloped Tiffany’s heart. She wasn’t opposed to a winter fling with a handsome college boy like Scott and wished she’d met him under different circumstances.

Tiffany closed the bathroom door and said, “We’re not going to humiliate you anymore, Scott. It’s over.” She looked into his eyes. “We couldn’t let you get away with blackmailing and attempted rape. Hopefully, you’ve learned your lesson. The next time we won’t be as lenient. We’ll be watching.”

“I wasn’t going to rape anyone,” Scott insisted slipping a foot into his jeans. “I’m a gentle person, a gentle lover.” He slid his other foot inside the jeans and pulled them up. “Yes, I was going to take the money. Yes, I would’ve had sex with Mrs. Carter. And you.” Scott smiled wide-eyed at Tiffany. “No way would I ever rape anyone. No. Way.” Scott buttoned and zipped up. “Can I use that mouthwash now? My mouth tastes like I’ve been licking a turd-pop.”

Tiffany covered her smile, worried it’d turn into a laugh. She didn’t want Angie to think she was having a good time, especially alone with Scott.

When confident she could proceed with a serious tone, Tiffany said: “Yes. There in the closet.” She pointed without stepping away. “There’s an extra toothbrush in there as well. Feel free to brush if you’d like.”

Tiffany watched Scott pull one of the packaged toothbrushes from the closet. As he made his way back, she opened a side cabinet revealing stacks of personal hygiene items including toothpaste and mouthwash.

“Help yourself to the stuff in there. I’ll go get your shirt and shoes. When you’ve finished in here, there’s one more thing we need you to do before we take you back.”

“What’s that?” Scott stared at his facial wounds in the mirror. “This shit is not what we agreed to, Tiffany. Hope you’re not planning on letting Angie fuck up my face some more.”

“No, nothing like that.” Tiffany assured him, touched his cheek gently. “Stockton needs to learn a lesson of his own. Part of his rehabilitation includes a complimentary shave down. We need to tie him up in case he wakes up.”

“So? What do you need me for?”

Tiffany opened a drawer and pulled out antiseptic wipes, Polysporin ointment, and Band-Aids. “We need your help getting Stockton down into the,” she paused, “into the basement. Everything we need to take care of his unsightly business is down there.” She dabbed an antiseptic wipe at the cut on his cheek.

“Ouch!” Scott stepped back. “That stings.”

“I’m sorry you got hurt, Scott,” Tiffany said sincerely. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Stockton wasn’t supposed to be here. He’s not a very nice guy. He scares me.” She slid the gun inside her garter belt and stepped closer to Scott armed with Polysporin ointment. “Let me put a little of this on your booboo so it doesn’t get infected.” She squeezed a dollop onto her left pointer. If not for the blister, she’d have used the right one. “This won’t sting.”

Scott’s royal blues ran over Tiffany’s sexy costume, stopping at the glossy ointment blob on her finger. “My booboo?” He poked at Tiffany’s choice of words. “Okay, but don’t press hard. Stockton got me good.” He looked at Tiffany’s lips and into her eyes. “And Mrs. Carter’s lotion act didn’t help.”

“She’s really pissed at you. Anyone would be considering what you were trying to do to her. Just remember
that
while you’re healing.” Tiffany spread the ointment gently over Scott’s open cheek wound, finishing up with a couple of Band-Aids.

Their lips were close, almost close enough to touch. A kiss hung between them. As Scott leaned towards her, Tiffany stepped back.

“Don’t even think about it, puke mouth.” She smirked. “Brush your teeth. I’m going to change and get your shirt. Once you’re ready, help us get Stockton to the basement and then I’ll drive you back to Macaroons.”

“Okay, I guess.” Scott applied a blue line of white speckled toothpaste onto a new brush. “I don’t think dealing with that psycho is a good idea. But whatever, Tiffany, just don’t forget about our deal.”

She laughed. “The deal’s off, Scotty boy. Haven’t you learned anything? Thinking this could happen was a mistake. Nobody’s getting murdered tonight.” Tiffany patted her gun for emphasis. “Unless you’re planning on giving me a reason.”

When Scott came out of the bathroom fully dressed, Officer Stockton Wood was now zip tied to the chair by wrists and ankles. Even though his position appeared uncomfortable, Stockton’s breathing kept rhythmic timing.

“How’re we going to do this?” Scott raised his hands, fingers splayed. They fell with a slap to his sides. “You want to move him to the basement in a chair? How many flights of stairs are we talking?”

“Shhh, dumbass!” Angie said slightly above a whisper, her finger standing at attention in front of her lips.

Tiffany, now in black jeans and fuzzy gray sweater, pushed her glasses up and tucked a clump of curls behind her ear. The gun held in her other hand. “Scott, we’ve decided to keep Stockton here instead of trying to move him downstairs. You were right about that not being a good idea. He’s too big, too heavy for the three of us.”

“Good,” Scott said. “I don’t think we could’ve gotten him all the way to the basement without waking him up.” He looked at Stockton, rubbing his chin. “So now what? Are you still planning on trimming him?”

Tiffany’s curls bounced with her nod. “Yes. I need to go downstairs to get the clippers. You’re coming with me.” She looked at Angie. “Keep an eye on Stockton. If he wakes up, force another pill down his throat. We’ll be back in a few.”

“Okay,” Angie said flipping through the pictures she’d recently taken. “No rush.”

~

Scott went first, following Tiffany’s instructions until they got to the kitchen.

“Why are you doing this anyway?” Scott wondered aloud. “I mean, seriously, who cares if your ex-boyfriend has gnarly pubes?”

“It seems appropriate. It’ll freak him out and that’s the intent.”

Tiffany knew trimming Stockton’s pubic hair was risky and stupid, but why the hell not? She wanted him to wake up feeling embarrassed and violated, make him feel the way he’d made her feel when they’d dated. Not to mention all the other unforgivable things he’s done.

“Let’s get the clippers and get this over with.” Scott took a step towards Tiffany, eyes focusing on her mouth. “You really scared me earlier, you know. When you shot the mirror, I really thought you were going to shoot my…” He blinked hard, pointed to his groin. “You almost scared the shit outta me. That was intense. I even pissed myself. That wasn’t an act.”

“I know.” Tiffany’s voice hushed. “You deserved it. You told me you wanted to get rid of Angie. According to her, you wanted to blackmail and rape her. Not cool.”

“Not cool?” Scott moved closer to Tiffany, his eyes piercing hers. “Don’t ever do anything like that to me again.” He grabbed her wrists, voice dropping. “I
really
like you. You’re feisty and unexpected.”

Moving against Tiffany, Scott’s lips brushed her ear. She heard him breathe, exhaling with a soft moan. Tiffany pushed back trying to wiggle her wrists free. The gun remained inside her hand, but she wasn’t strong enough to get an angle on Scott.

Intensity of the situation descended over them. Scott’s lips traveled from Tiffany’s ear to cheek. Pausing, eyes on eyes, a deep understanding formed between them. They were equals in many departments: looks, intelligence, and now trickery. Her red pout seemed to inspire Scott, drawing him in. He pressed his lips to Tiffany’s, his breath warm and minty.

Tiffany realized in order to get control, she’d need to cooperate. Her body relaxed. Scott’s mouth moved to her neck. His hands moved from her wrists and slid up her sides, exploring upper back and meandering down to her buttocks, pulling her closer.

Scott’s lips were almost back on Tiffany’s. She put the gun to his face.

“Try it, and you’ll be blasted.”

A cough from the doorway interrupted them. Angie, arms crossed and head shaking. “Tsk-tsk,” she clicked her tongue. “Shame on you, Scotty boy. Maybe we shouldn’t let you go after all.”

Angie wiped her face leaving a moist, dark smear. “That was both hilarious and sickening. Laugh or puke? I could go either way.”

Tiffany smiled, quite satisfied with her performance and Angie’s timing. She slipped a steak knife into her jeans and pointed the gun in Scott’s direction. “He almost overtook me, but no chance of that. He’s simply not that good.” Not a hint of emotion from her. “What’s all over your hands? You’ve gotten some on your face.”

“Oh, this?” Angie held up something covered in the same dark substance. “I got tired of waiting for you guys and Stockton woke up. He’s definitely not going to cause anymore problems for a while. He’s been appropriately neutralized.”

Scott took a step back. His eyes wide, filled with disbelief.

“What did you do, Mrs. Carter?” He stared at the blood covering Angie’s hands, the smudge on her nose and cheek.

“Come upstairs. I’ll show you.” Angie wiggled her finger, indicating they should follow.

Tiffany held the gun down and looked at Scott. “I’m flattered, I guess, but don’t try forcing yourself on me. There won’t be a next time. Understand?”

He shrugged then nodded.

They followed Angie upstairs.

“So, it’s a little messy,” Angie announced as they reached the landing.

Tiffany watched Scott’s eyes roam the floor. She kept the gun pointed at him and straightened her glasses.

Hinges groaned as Angie pushed the door to Tiffany’s room. Her eyes seemed to glow with excitement, anticipating reactions to her handiwork. Stepping to the side, Angie held her hand high, palm up as though she were a game show hostess. The smile in her eyes confirmed feelings both daring and proud. “Ta-da!”

Scott grabbed for the wall to keep balance, eyes searching the ceiling. “I don’t want to look,” he mumbled.

“Then stay here if you’re going to be a baby.” Tiffany’s eyes scrunched as she lifted the gun level to Scott’s face. “Don’t wander off. That would be a
very
bad move on your part.”

Inside, a single candle illumined the incident. Officer Stockton Wood remained confined to the chair, bound by hands and feet. Blood soaked Stockton and the floor around him. Fleshy strips appeared to be swimming in the thick pools of darkness.

The fleshy strips, Tiffany realized, were actually that. Areas of Stockton’s arms and legs were missing skin. Shallow wounds leaked pink fluids, collecting and rolling, plunking into puddles below. Various lengths of hair-dusted skin ribbons dangled from Stockton’s cheeks and chest. Short, jagged streamers hung from his back, looking like Angie’s first attempts with the potato peeler.

Stockton whimpered and twitched, probably in shock.

Tiffany turned towards Angie, eyebrows raised. “What happened here? Did you mistake ol’ Officer Wood for a potato? A cucumber, maybe?”

Angie’s eyes traveled over Stockton. She held up the blood coated instrument. “He woke up and was irritating as usual. Calling me names like he wasn’t the one strapped to a chair. So, I used this,” she shook the potato peeler, facial movement contorting with annoyance, “to show him he’s not the dictator over this situation.” Angie’s expression returned to calmness. “I think he understands that concept now.”

“Obviously,” Tiffany agreed. “Did he pass out?”

“No.” Angie shook her head slowly. “His screams were getting under my skin, so I thought I’d get under his.” She chuckled at her own joke. “I poured the other drink, the medicated one meant for Scott, over Stockton’s open wounds. I think the medication absorbed into him making him fall asleep again.”

“Maybe, but I bet he passed out from pain. Seriously, that cocktail was nothing but acidic juices and rum.”

“Yeah, probably. He did scream like a little girl.”

Tiffany nodded and held out her hand. “We’ve got to get rid of this,” she said as Angie placed the potato peeler on her palm. “What do you want to do with him? It’s not like we were going to let him go, but now he’s all messy. Frankensteined.”

“I think we should keep him in the dungeon.” Angie pointed, indicating the area below the house.

“Keep him?” Tiffany’s head tilted. She shook a finger downwards, mocking Angie. The potato peeler rattled with the movement. “Keep him for what?”

Angie shrugged. “Until we decide what to do with him.”

“Keep him for fun and experimentation?” There was enthusiasm in Tiffany’s suggestion. “Haven’t you ever wanted to test human boundaries? I do. I mean, I
am
a doctor of mental issues, a therapist, a headshrinker. Aren’t you a little curious about how much pain a human body can take, how long it can last, what you can make it do?”

“No, not really. We just have to keep him until The Institute gives us instructions. I’ve gotten the information they wanted out of him. He didn’t make it easy, that’s for sure. Stubborn sucker. All he had to do was answer my questions. But, no. I had to peel it out of him. Literally.”

Tiffany sighed and pushed her glasses up dramatically with a middle finger, ending by pushing the finger out towards Angie.

Tiffany turned to the doorway. “Hey, Scotty?” she called sweetly. “We need your help, big boy.”