A Love to Kill

Part Twenty One

This is the last part. As you all know, I started this by wanting to create a murderer, and took the opportunity during a creative writing assignment in this writing club I'm in. Then it took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and as mean as it sounds, I hope it makes you cry haha. This book reminds of Romeo and Juliet, for Rodger and Dawn are simply not meant to be together, but in this story it's death that separates them.

Officer John Houston stormed up the hospital stairs, trying, and failing, to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't believe after all these years had passed he hadn't noticed a thing. Walking next to him was Buddy, an officer that John was often paired with. Buddy was a bit inexperienced, and often acted foolishly, but his heart was in the right place. He may not think, but because he didn't waste the energy using his brain Buddy hardly slept, and worked twice as hard.

John's teeth were gnarling together in pure rage. He should be happy-joyous even-but the  betrayal was so bitter it overlapped everything else. Damn it! He cursed in his head. He couldn't believe he had been tricked so easily, and for so long. He never thought himself a fool, but right now he certainly looked like an ass. He had comforted that son of a bitch! Right after he had mercilessly slaughtered his own parents! He never even considered that the murderer had been so close to him. Hell, he even considered Rodger a friend. And Rodger had led him on, a fox in chicken's clothing, dancing around him and killing as he may.

But no more would he be made a fool by Rodger! When he had visited Rodger last, in his home, John's had a feeling in his gut, an instinct knowledge that Rodger was holding back, that he wasn't telling the truth, that there was something more to him than he appeared. But he just thought that he was being ridiculous. He had known Rodger for so long! There was no way he could be a murderer. A little disturbed from his parents' death, perhaps, but certainly not a murderer. Then the bodies were found, and the profile was created. After that, there was no smidge in John's mind that Rodger was the killer. And as soon as he had Rodger's DNA and fingerprints (they had lost those from his parents' investigation), Rodger would be his. John would have the pleasure of smacking a pair of handcuffs around Rodger's wrists and leading him where he belonged-a prison cell. Try as he may, he couldn't find an ounce of compassion for the killer he had known for so long. Rodger was too evil to deserve any sympathy.

John approached a desk, and smiled at the receptionist. "Excuse me." He implored. "But do you know where Dawn Harding's room is?" he had already checked Rodger's house to find it empty, and Dawn's apartment, in addition, was empty. In a frenzy, he called all the hospitals as well as a few other places in the hope that he would get lucky. And there she was, here. Hopefully the murdering bastard would be here with her.   

"Room 101." She told him after looking it up.

John smiled as a thank you and strolled down the hospital's hallway. Poor girl. Dawn. She probably didn't even know her boyfriend was a murderer. They had to get her out of his clutches quickly, before he sought to end her life. Who knows the kinds of wicked games he had played with her in the meantime.

The door to Dawn's room was closed. John bit his lip. If Rodger really was here, it was possible that he could have spotted John.  John motioned to Buddy, pulled out a revolver, and kicked open the door. He ran inside, gun raised, then froze. The gun fell to the tile floor, spinning. Buddy followed him, and was motionless as well as he surveyed the hospital room.

Two bodies were huddled together, swimming in blood. The stench of rust and salt hit him like a bullet, and John covered his nose.  They were so covered with the red paint John had trouble deciphering who they were. But after a moment he distinguished Rodger's corpse. The other had to be his girlfriend.