A Crooked Waitress

Chapter 46

Eric was sitting in his car, at the rendezvous point with Christina. He looked at his phone. Three hours had passed, and she had not shown up nor responded to any of his messages.

Is she getting back at me, or is there a problem? She can't be so childish; not to come here because I didn't show up last night.

Half an hour later, tired of waiting, he returned to Natalie's house. He waited in the garage until the door slid down and sealed the place, then opened the trunk.

Toby squinted and looked at him; under the influence of heroin, he was docile. But the drug was going out of his system, and the light was coming back to his eyes.

Eric cut open the ropes around his wrists and ankles. "Let's get you to the basement."

"Okay," Toby flashed a friendly smile and put his arm around his shoulder.

Eric helped him come out of the trunk, and he tried to stand on his feet. The medicine Natalie had applied on his injuries had subsided the swelling, but not enough had healed. With heroin wearing off, the pain cut through his nerves. He yelled and tried to hang on to Eric but fell on his knees.

Eric put his hand over his mouth to shut him up and waited until he calmed down. Then he hauled Toby on his shoulder and carried him downstairs.

Good thing he's skinny!

In the basement, Eric tied him up to the chair and returned upstairs. He opened a can of beer and resting his weight on the couch, aimlessly surfed through the channels. A news program attracted his attention; a helicopter was flying over a highway. It could be a police chase; one of those idiots who get shot.

"...This is the place where they found the body of a young boy of about ten years old who was killed in a car accident today. Police are looking for any information, which would help identify the victim. He was abducted, and later when he tried to escape was killed in a car accident..."

Jimmy's picture covered the entire screen, and his pale face stared back at him. "It's really hard to imagine the pain his family is suffering... "The reporter rambled on.

Eric muted the TV.

Christina had the best reason in the world not to show up after all.

He felt a growing void inside of his heart. A hand had reached in, ripped something out of his chest, and left a painful vacuum.

With the ache came an urge. An unstoppable need to go to the basement cut Toby into pieces, and avenge his son's death. But he knew it wasn't the time. He needed to keep Toby alive and use him to trap his sister.

From the kitchen, he picked up a bucket, mop, and returned to the living room. Natalie's bloodstain was still on the floor; he wiped it clean. Then found and removed every drop of her blood that had splashed around the room.

Picked up his clothes from the bathroom floor, threw them into the washing machine, and turned it on. It slightly rattled, and water and foam swirled behind its glass door. Then he mopped up the floor tiles until they shone under the ceiling lights.

Still, all he wanted to do was to dismember Toby and send pictures to Christina.

No! No! She thinks I don't know what happened and tries to contact me again to somehow rescue her brother. She might ask to talk to Toby to make sure he's still alive. I want her to let her guard down and think she has fooled me. Then I can kill both of them.

His gaze wandered around, searching for another stain but didn't find any. After a while, the washing machine stopped turning, and its door clicked open.

He picked up the wet garments, hung them from a made-in-China clothes rack, and sat down on the floor. The smell of detergent and clean cloth filled his nostrils.

And he sobbed bitterly.