Savage (A Blood Feud Novel)

Chapter Forty-Two

Fraser brought the van the early morning. He returned home and parked it on the side road. When he got out of the van, he saw Emily standing at the door with a smile.

"Sweetie, why are you standing there?" Fraser asked with a look of exasperation.

"I feel much better dad," Emily said.

It all happened an hour of after Fraser left. Emily was standing in the kitchen with Officer Leary. Aunt Vivian had been placed upstairs in Emily's bedroom. Leary had come over to the house. He had a pair of latex gloves and a medical box. He was observing Vivian.

Leary asked Emily, "Do you know what else you were supposed to do with her?"

Emily replied, "Nothing, I suppose. Perhaps now that you're here we can drive her back home but we can't she'll possibly call the police."

Leary showed Emily his badge. "That's where I can step in. I'll see to it that this doesn't blow over. You and your dad won't have to worry about anything."

"Yeah, right," Emily said. "You know he's a killer, right?"

Leary looked confused.

"What do you mean?" he said. "Where do you get the idea your dad is a killer?"

Emily looked down. Her eyes swelled up. Something was bugging her. She quickly wiped her tears.

"My mom and dad had this big fight some weeks ago. Things weren't going well between them. Mum had an affair with the Chief of police, this asshole named Clancy. Mum and dad started fighting. One night, mom was in the kitchen. She was cooking stew when a knife was hurled at her. The knife had missed her by an inch, but before her next reaction my dad grabbed mom by the neck and threatened her. He told her that he was a child killer way back, that if she'd ever try to leave him, he would kill the both of us. It was the first time I saw my dad this angry and vicious. I'm scared, Leary."

Emily sunk her head and began to cry. Leary offered to console her, but she stepped away.

"Alright, tell me how exactly does this make your dad the killer?" Leary asked Emily.

Emily, through muffled cries, said, "He said he was the Cleaver. This killer who terrorized parts of Ireland in the late eighties or something like that."

"Emily, I don't understand," Leary said. "Your father claimed he was the Cleaver?"

"Well that's what he said, I mean, fuck," Emily said.

Leary tried to make sense of it. Why would Fraser go on to make such outlandish claims about himself?

Emily turned. Leary looked too. Vivian was standing on the edge of the stairs. She was mouthing obscenities at both Emily and Leary.

Leary slowly approached Vivian and tried to calm her. It was a big mistake. Vivian screamed at Leary. She turned, hurried back to Emily's room and slammed the door. Leary sighed and came back downstairs.

"She's drunk as hell," Emily said to Leary as he sat at the kitchen table. "I think we'll leave her now. I'm sorry if what I said earlier had startled you."

"Forget it," Leary said as he sat in front of Emily. "That's none of my business."

"Thanks," Emily said.

She withdrew a pistol from behind her back and shot Leary in between the eyes. She fired once more, this time at his chest area. "Just like my father," she said with a wicked smile on her face.

She called her father. "He's been taken care of. What should I do with Aunt Vivian?"

Fraser replied, "That drug you put into her bottle should put her out of her misery soon. She'll die from a cardiac arrest. I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

Click.

Emily put her phone back in her pocket. She smiled to herself. Emily never liked her aunt, to begin with. She sat comfortably in the sitting room.

She was waiting for her father.