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Authors: Breanna Hayse

BOOK: Protect and Correct
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Collin joined them. “I just spoke to my boss and they are putting a security detail to monitor the premises. Since our location was discovered, Frank thought it best that we just let the perp show himself. Don’t worry, baby, we will get him.”

“Won’t he know you are setting him up?” Francine asked.

“He’s an arrogant little prick and likes to play games. Frank is a profiler and strongly feels that the psycho will try to come after her simply because of the risk involved. That being said, nobody, and I mean nobody, is to be allowed in this house except for us. Rolland, I need your help.”

“You got it, buddy. Miss Francine here can swing a pretty scary frying pan, too.”

“I was a cop for twenty years. I know how to use a gun,” Francine said seriously.

“But I thought you taught English at Yale.”

“After I retired from the force. I actually taught criminal justice. That’s when I met Rolland. He was an instructor in forensics under the law and psych department.”

“We need an action plan, people,” Collin said. “Brooke, do you know how to use a gun?”

“Of course. But—”

“Listen to me. Now is not the time to be squeamish. If he comes to you, shoot first, ask questions later. If only I could figure out how he found you…”

“How would that help?” Francine asked.

“It would tell me from what direction he is coming. Internet, social, a leak…”

“Do you have any idea how to recognize him?”

“Only a scent,” Collin sighed. “Sweet, like old flowers.”

“Maybe a cheap cologne?”

“Possibly, although my boss suspects the scent came from an orange juice refinery. That odor can linger for weeks.”

“Listen, kids,” Rolland interrupted. “The house is secure, and we are together. Let’s eat dinner and show this prick that his attempt to terrorize has not worked. If he is as arrogant as you said, it will piss him off…”

“And a pissed off criminal makes major mistakes. Good idea,” Francine added. “Just stay away from windows, and keep lights off in rooms that can be seen from the outside. We do not want him to have any visibility.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Rolland reassured Brooke, squeezing her with his sinewy arm. “You got mama and papa bear here to help take care of you.”

“And a pit-bull for a husband to boot,” Francine winked at Collin.

“We’re not really married, you know…” Brooke blushed.

“It will happen,” Rolland said. “Let’s take care of this annoyance first.”

 

* * *

 

Brooke paced the floor anxiously, constantly peering out the dark bay window of the bedroom down to the shadowed grounds. Collin had installed solar-powered motion detection lights on the roof all around the house so that any movement would be detected at night. During the day, he was a constant shadow. Nothing was sacred any longer… he even supervised her in the bathroom.

“Collin, this is ridiculous. We haven’t heard a peep. He’s been scared off.”

“Two weeks of silence does not mean he’s given up. He’s out there. Waiting.”

“You are driving me insane. I love you. I do. But this constant hovering is too much. Please, give me some breathing room.”

“Not until I catch this asshole. And don’t ‘aw, Collin’ me.”

Brooke sighed, realizing that Francine’s description of Collin had been accurate. The man was like a pit-bull. He had his teeth sunk into a bone, and there was no way he would let go until he was damn good and ready. She was restless and in need of some fresh air, and he refused to even take her jogging in the morning… an activity she never believed she would miss until now.

She plopped into a chair with a huge scowl and made a face as he wagged his finger at her. “Watch it, kiddo. I am just looking out for you. Excuse me. Hey, Franko. Any leads?” he asked, putting the phone on speaker.

“Just one. Did your little buddy make a recent furniture purchase lately?”

“Yeah, but she used the channels for delivery.”

“Are you aware that she stole them from her ex? He filed a police report for the missing items. Apparently, someone forged a false will with a beneficiary.”

“Holy shit. Brooke!”

She winced, biting her lip as Collin’s face reddened with anger. She mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and watched as his palm twitched against his pant leg. She had learned that sign usually meant trouble for her bottom.

“Bet she is gonna get a good ass-whipping for this little stunt, huh?” Frank laughed.

“What are you talking about?” Collin growled into the phone as he pointed to the corner. Brooke rapidly scurried to put her nose into it.

“Oh, the security guys have heard what goes on in your house, buddy. They are great at hiding in shadows, you know. Betcha you never knew they’ve been around watching and listening to everything. I just never thought you would have such a kinky side. I’m impressed.”

“Let’s get something straight, Frank,” Collin said firmly, “You are supposed to be in charge of the security, which means a certain degree of professionalism is expected. Gossip is unacceptable. I want every one of those men removed from the detail and replaced with ones that can do their job without getting their jollies off with my personal business. Second, I am a firm believer in domestic discipline. I am not going to explain myself to you or anyone else, but I do suggest you do some research into the subject before you pass judgment. Got it?”

“Touchy, aren’t we? Are you fucking her too, Golde?”

“I am going by Doyle here, asshole. Lay off. I’m not going to tell you again,” Collin warned. He hung up the line and walked to stand by Brooke’s side. “Should I even ask what you were thinking, Brooke?
And
you lied to me on top of it.”

“I’m sorry, Collin! I really thought I had covered all the bases. I never figured the idiot would have called the cops.”

“Well, your little act of defiance provided our culprit a map to get to you.”

“But how, exactly? I mean, the trail is supposed to be hidden in the Bureau’s system. He had to have been given access to find the final destination, right?”

“Yes. That is what I am afraid of. “

“I’m in big trouble again, aren’t I?” Brooke asked nervously.

“Yes. Major trouble. Because the walls have ears, this punishment will happen after we catch the psycho. I don’t need Frank harassing me about this right now.”

“Can that jerk get you in trouble with your job?”

“Frank? He’s as dumb as a nail and all talk. Besides, I have enough material on him that would make what I do look like child’s play.”

“If you say so. Can I get out of the corner?”

“No.”

“Aw, Collin… Fine.”

 

* * *

 

The ensuing weeks were quiet, with no hide or hair from Brooke’s attacker. Collin continued to act as Brooke’s personal bodyguard around the clock, thoroughly convinced that the killer waited in the woods for her to go outside unattended. Even though the security detail remained hidden and out of sight, Collin reserved warming the woman’s bottom for when they would have privacy. Brooke found that she missed the contact of his hand against her bottom and the sense of security and caring that came with it. Her darkening moods coupled with her history of rebellion led Collin to take even greater and more stringent precautions to keep her safe.

Because Rolland and Francine had regular jobs in the tiny town, Brooke was either on full lock-down, with him guarding the door, or having to hide herself each time groceries and supplies were delivered. He heightened his efforts as the third Wednesday of the month approached, confining her to the bedroom and not permitting her to step on foot outside. Her frustration grew daily, and she became sullen and moodier than ever.

That third Wednesday brought forth the news that the monster had attacked another victim, clear across the country. As before, the victim was single and without any attachments. He was found in a high current river that fed into a reservoir on the outskirts of a small town near Boise, Idaho. Confident that the killer was a creature of habit, Brooke was able to justify her next move.

Desperate for sunshine, she snuck out of the house early the following morning, slipping from Collin’s sleeping form. She happily perused the yard and returned to the house an hour later. She walked into the living room and paused. The odor of sickly sweet cologne permeated the air. Brooke froze, terror seeping through her blood. He was here, in this house, and he had come for her. Trembling, she reached for the phone and picked up the receiver.

“Do you think I am stupid enough to let you call out?” a gravelly voice asked from behind as a hand clamped over her mouth. Brooke felt a sharp object press against her throat as her arms were yanked behind her back.

“Who are you?” Brooke gasped, her legs turning to rubber as he pulled her against him.

He ignored her question. “Did you like my little diversion, baby doll?” the man’s voice whispered in her ear. “It’s so easy to just hop on a plane and go anywhere you want as long as you have some bucks and an ID. You are so pretty now. Too bad I have to undo all that fancy work. What a pity.”

“Why are you doing this?” Brooke choked out, trying to stay calm as he backed her out. She eyed a clay vase near the doorway. “Please help me understand. What are you trying to get out of this?”

“Justice, pretty girl. You took someone important to me away, and now I am going to take what’s important to you. Your life.”

“If you had known me,” Brooke said as he inched closer to the vase, “you would have known that my life wasn’t important. What you did to me was a blessing, and I wanted to thank you.”

“What? You are a crazy bitch. Fuck!” he hissed as she knocked the vase over. It crashed into hundreds of pieces.

“Brooke?” Collin called.

“No! Don’t come down here! He’s—”

“Frank?” Collin froze halfway down the stairs, gun in hand. “Frank, what are you doing? Let her go.”

“She killed my kid brother. She killed my father and turned my mother into a whore and killed her too. She has to pay.”

“Put the gun down, Frank. What happened to your family?”

“I’m not playing this game. Especially with you. Since your life isn’t important to you,” Frank growled in Brooke’s ear, “maybe I should first take your happiness.”

“No!” Brooke screamed as Frank leveled the gun at Collin’s chest and pulled the trigger. Brooke stared in horror as Collin crumpled against the stairwell, blood pooling rapidly from his wound.

Brooke stared mutely at Collin’s broken body, helpless as his life drained from him. Where was security? Surely they heard gun fire! It dawned on her… Collin had said Frank was in charge of the security detail. Of course no one came to help. He did not want anyone else to know of their hiding place.

“Collin…” Brooke choked, trying to pull anyway from her assailant to go to the still man, “Collin, I am so sorry! I love you!”

“How touching. Don’t worry,” he bit her ear lobe, making Brooke shudder in disgust, “the pain of his death won’t last very long. You’ll be joining him pretty soon. I really wish I had some time to enjoy you before I finish my chore, but I really am not into sloppy seconds.”

Frank dragged the sobbing woman outside and to the boat house where the tiny row boat was already waiting. He tied her hands behind her back and stuffed a cloth drenched with his cheap cologne in her mouth. The stench made her gag, and her head swam with dizzying nausea as fear enveloped her. He chatted insipidly about the nice break in weather as he shoved Brooke to the bottom of the little boat. She cried out as her hip jammed against the corner of a metal box, sending shocks of biting pain down her leg.

The pain jarred her to reality. The metal container was Collin’s emergency box. Hope glimmered as she used her fingers to lift the lid and feel around. She urged the lighter into her hand and turned it to burn the ropes, praying that the smell of the pungent cologne mixed with the heavily scented sea water would disguise the odor of burning hemp. She also prayed for time.

Frank gleefully shared his story as he slowly rowed towards the center of the harbor, cursing as the waves hindered his speed and frequently pushed the little boat back towards the shoreline, delaying his goal. He informed Brooke that after she had testified during the Gardenia Killer trial and his half-brother was found guilty, Frank’s father drank himself to his grave. His mother, with no means of financial support, sold her body until she was found in the gutter one afternoon. Frank stated that he could have helped her financially, of course, but that was not his responsibility.

No, his parents’ situation was caused by the thoughtless convictions of the laughable jury and court practices. His brother had meant everything to them, and now, because of her irresponsible statements, he was left without a family. He stated that he really didn’t mind losing his brother, in fact, it was a blessing since that left Frank room to be the favorite son. But that did not occur as his parents’ grief hindered their ability to even notice him. He emphasized that things would have been different if Brooke and the other selfish individuals had kept silent. But they had insisted on taking the bait and believing the lies about his brother. Frank mused for a moment, admiring his own cleverness of adding a fishhook to his victims to symbolize how easily fooled one could be.

Frank then explained that the Gardenia Killer was justified in the murders he committed. Each person chosen had the potential to be evil and so his half-brother kindly replaced their wicked hearts with a flower. It was coincidental that the choice of gardenia was related to the bushes surrounding his parents’ home.

Brooke felt the cords loosen as the madman shared the joy of his brother’s execution, which had occurred on the third Wednesday of that particular month. His tone was serious as he stated it had been appropriate to commemorate that day with taking the lives of those who stole his own, potentially happy life. He laughed, explaining how their two souls merged together for vengeance. It had been easy to fool the Bureau, Frank said nonchalantly. He simply used a birth certificate and social security number that had belonged to an acquaintance of his—a drug user who had incidentally turned up missing and whose absence had never been reported.

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