Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

Spilling Out from Beneath the Lid

The officer, Chey, Shawn remembered, was still knocking at the door. But in a few seconds he would figure out there was something wrong. And then they would bust through and Gus would die.

"Okay... Look, whatever you need me to do, I'll do it. Just... just don't do anything..."

Blonde hair brushed against Gus's ear. Shawn could see it was tickling him by the way he flinched and squinted one eye.

His first, real look at the twisted sicko who had helped to destroy his soul. No way to ignore the throat tightening similarity to Yin and Yang – one brash, one calculating. One bulky, the muscle; one small and analytical. One male and one fem...

Shawn gulped as he took in- blue eyes, offset by smudged mascara. Makeup, perfect this morning, now flaking after so much running around and no chance to touch up. Eyelid twitching – eyes watering – too much dust and possible allergy to pollen. Smudges where tear tracks had been rubbed away – another smudge on the sleeve held close to Gus's shoulder – a pale shade of foundation – referred to as "pancake"; remembering the thick feel of it during his "Chad" days. Only a remnant of red lipstick on the edges of thin lips – the rest licked or rubbed away. And on the chin – just starting to come back in. Shawn had the same daily issue – drove his dad crazy when Shawn was 17 and couldn't seem to pull off "clean cut" for picture day – not that he'd tried. A name, drifting up from a case that seemed a hundred years ago. Regina...

"You know, you should keep a pocket razor if you really want to sell those feminine wiles. Right... Daniel?"

Eyes glared wild as the sharp edge dug into Gus's throat.

"Shut up! You shut up! Don't call me that!"

Shawn froze – the moment of control bleeding out as red soaked his friend's collar. Gus was gasping hard – fingers flexing – need to clutch at his injury but terrified to move.

Low pumps – where he'd wrangled a pair that size, Shawn couldn't guess – slid heel first through leaves, broken wood, and tumbled clutter. Gus moved with his captor – legs stiff and movements jerky. His eyes stayed on his friend.

"You can't take him!" The snarled words could barely push from between his locked teeth. Something gave somewhere in Shawn's chest and his hands trembled. Rage.

Daniel grinned.

"Oh, I'm not just taking him. I'm taking you both."

~-~-~

Juliet had pushed aside several rows of tiny ruffled dresses, at the back of the closet, within the time it took for Lassiter to make his way down the hall. The little frocks were arranged by color – unmarred by dirt or dust. This was a space that was visited frequently. But the neatness... the care placed on these dresses. They must have hung for years – yet the hangers hadn't deformed the shoulders in all that time. Lifting the edge of a lacy collar found a roll of soft cotton around the end of the hanger. Easy guess that all of the garments in the closet had been treated with equal concern. This wasn't just a closet. Given the... other... contents... it was more like a shrine.

The hat box was still on the floor, near her feet; the only part of it disturbed being the lid.

Kneeling beside it, Lassiter leaned over to peek inside without touching the container. "Damn. Hard to tell age but I'm guessing this isn't one of our recent victims."

Juliet made a sharp sound and covered her nose with her sleeve. Her digging had located a small cupboard – the door hanging open and a strand of dark hair spilling out over the lip. "No, but it looks like these are." Her voice was a muffle behind the thick cotton blend.