Cold Blooded Assassin Book 5: Nightmare in Red (Nick McCarty Assassin Series) Page 3

  Nick took his son Quinn from Rachel as his sidekicks gathered around to witness yet another round of the Rachel and Nick dialogue on death.

  “I have a plan. I’m certain when Mr. Kensky gets out on his own, we’ll no longer have to worry about him. He may decide to skip town and find another place to live, get a job as a postal worker, marry a nice girl, and join the Better Business Bureau.”

  Nick’s assessment of Kensky’s future evoked much amusement, even from Rachel. “Let’s go get a bite to eat and forget about serial killers for a while. I’ve been warned I’ll have to face the consequences of not giving you all the up to date data on the Salvatores, and to throw myself on the mercy of the former Princess Bump.”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed, complete with tightening of jaw muscles. Gus, John, and Jean stepped back from the suddenly boiling Rachel cauldron of emotion. Quinn took one look at his Mom and began to whimper. “Excuse me! What could you possibly have done to top getting them into the country club and paying their dues?”

  Nick smiled. Although refraining from his past everyday pranks, including putting Jello in Rachel’s slippers and duct taping her into the bed, he still enjoyed the occasional fire and brimstone when she became aware of anything to do with the Salvatores. “Julius told me Phil and Clarice came to him in private to see if they could get our membership revoked.”

  For a moment of awestruck rage, Rachel’s features became a flowing mask of undisguised hatred. “Oh… my… God! I want them dead by morning and their house burned to the ground! What are you standing there for, Wanky? Give me the baby and get moving. You’re on a mission of destruction!”

  The others moved a couple more steps back with Jean angling behind Gus and John. Nick laughed while turning with Quinn away from Rachel who was trying to get her son. “I’m not killing Sonny’s parents, Rach. Calm down. Julius told them he’d throw their asses out long before he’d ever consider their request.”

  Rachel invaded Gus’s airspace next with her hand out. “I want the keys to the SUV and your weapon! Right now! I’ll kill those bastards myself! We’ll adopt Sonny. He won’t notice they’re gone anyway with the amount of time the horse’s asses spend in front of the mirror practicing God knows what!”

  “Muerto! Get your ass over here and quit laughing,” Gus ordered. “Step back, Rachel. I’m not giving you a weapon or the keys. You’re acting like Crazy Louie. You heard Muerto. He and Julius took care of the situation like adults. Get a grip.”

  Nick handed Quinn to Rachel. The feel of her son’s body bled away enough rage Nick was able to lead her toward the house entrance. “We like Sonny too much to kill his parents, honey. After a few months when someone asked him how well he was getting along without his Mom and Dad, he’d suddenly realize they really were gone and be devastated.”

  That elicited a repressed snort of laughter from Rachel as she tried to maintain her anger but failed. “Damn those two! You could have had Phil sorting mail in a security max prison and Clarice would be working her true calling doing two dollar blow jobs on the street corners in San Francisco. All would be well, but noooooo… you had to adopt them as your little welfare project. Can I at least twist the knife they stabbed into your back?”

  “Don’t worry about the Salvatores. Think about being back in Pacific Grove, walking down to the beach without a bump. We’ll have Quinn in a stroller and do a couple days celebration with a bit of the Irish in our morning coffee. We can listen to Gus whine about the cold wind and watch John show Cala how to become a bird nest.”

  The mention of John’s penchant for bringing a loaf of bread down to feed the myriad flock of scavenger birds buzzing around until he looked like a bird totem pole finally relaxed Rachel into sigh of acceptance. “Fine. I’ll think no more about the fate of the Salvatores. I swear one of these days they’re going to do something so aggravating I’ll show up at their door with an axe! I’m telling you they kidnapped Sonny from a hospital when he was a baby. No way did that skank Clarice give birth to him.”

  “Tell us what you really think, Mom.” Jean applied the needle over Rachel’s over the top threat and insult. “She’s still Sonny’s Mom. What if Sonny and I get married someday.”

  Rachel’s gasp and spin move complete with open mouthed horror face amused her companions to no end. “Don’t even joke like that! Holidays with the Salvatores? You would have children who would have to call Clarice - Grandma, and Phil - Grandpa? There must be a law written somewhere in the cosmos against such a travesty, isn’t there?”

  By then Rachel was smiling at the appreciation her comical diatribe against her supposed arch enemies evoked from her extended family. At the door, Tina, Cala, and Deke the dog waited in the wings as if for the color smoke emerging from the Sistine Chapel. They seemed relieved as everyone came in the house smiling and in one piece. Deke danced around his beer and walk buddy Nick as if he were a piece of bacon on a string until Nick knelt to give him the attention demanded. Cala, five and a half feet tall, with emerald eyes, and long black hair, approached John with smiling hesitation in a simple but dazzling red shift dress. When he reached out to her she hurried to his side, blushing. Nick and Gus noticed, but upon receiving an El Kabong deadeye stare, refrained from comment.

  “We heard about Kensky on the news,” Tina remarked. “Sorry the conviction didn’t work out, Nick.”

  Nick grinned. “It worked out just fine, Tina.”

  Chapter Two

  A Farewell and Kader Trouble

  Kensky watched the young woman from his car as she walked home from Everett Community College. She lived on Rucker Avenue and left classes to go home by way of 8th Street. He made sure no one followed him before beginning his long hunt for different prey. After the college girl, Kensky planned to leave the area. In the East somewhere, he could get lost in the big city, maybe even go over the Canadian border to play. First though, he would do the unexpected. He knew just how he would do it. Kensky looked down at the Seattle Police Department Detectives ID he had made. It would be fine to fool the girl. He chuckled as he resumed watching the young woman’s trek. He would drive alongside, holding out his fake ID for her to see while urging her inside, explaining there had been an accident, and he was to drive her to the hospital. She would say ‘is it my Mom or whoever’ and of course Kensky would have his cover story filled in for him.

  First day free as a breeze, and I already have a pigeon. Kensky, very happy with himself, leaned into his seat, unable to get comfortable at his size in the Toyota Camry. He switched the key on, opened the window, and relaxed with the fall breeze blowing through. The decision now would be whether to wait for a couple weeks or take her tomorrow. He already knew his chances of nailing McCarty with a civil suit were slim and none after the clips of his confrontation with the media, crowd, and McCarty played everywhere on the internet and across the country. McCarty won’t stop this. Then I’ll come back for him and his family down in their little hidey hole in Pacific Grove when people forget about me. The stun-gun arc at the side of his throat propelled Kensky into the roof of the Toyota, and then jitter bugging on his seat until he was clearly unconscious. Nick put away the stun-gun.

  Nick opened the driver’s side door, crouched into a lifter’s position, and shoved the huge man over the shift column. Kensky plunged into the far right floor corner of the Camry’s passenger seat area face first. Nick kept shoving until the man’s body didn’t show visibly unless someone could see the legs curled on the seat. He then gave Kensky an injection and threw a blanket over the man and seat area, covering the body. Nick then walked to a nearby black SUV where a woman waited outside her driver’s side door with his equipment bag.

  “That was quick.” Her nametag read MacEachern. The border patrol uniform was a cover for his Northern contact, Robyn MacEachern. She worked the border area for Homeland Security with ties into both CIA and FBI. Having helped Nick in Washington State during the recent Onalaska Isis infiltration, he called on her first to keep an eye on Kensk
y from the moment the killer was released. “I have you down to scoot through the Douglas Crossing in one and a half hours with Kensky’s Camry, and your crew’s vehicle traveling behind it. I’ll wave you through. Did you get my text about where to take him?”

  “Yes. We’re all set, Robyn. I didn’t see any sense in allowing the asshole to stalk the girl any longer. I tagged his car before he was ever released. Even I was surprised when you called and told me what he was up to. I figured he’d at least wait one damn day before targeting someone. He had a fake Seattle PD identification on his passenger seat, so you can imagine the con he was going to pull on the girl to get her in the car. Thanks for the safe-house setting. It’s perfect for Gerald’s last resting place.”

  “You’re welcome. Are you going to find out all the details before his journey off planet?”

  “Oh yeah,” Nick answered. “We have a special sendoff planned for him. Do you have anyone in particular in mind, Robyn?”

  MacEachern nodded. “Do me a favor and ask about a Claudia Jannasy. I went to high school with her. She was working the streets in Seattle when she disappeared. It was only a month before Kensky’s first reported victim. I’ve wondered since you caught Kensky whether I’d ever find out if she was possibly his first because he didn’t leave her like the rest.”

  “I’ll be sure to ask, my friend.” Nick accepted his equipment bag. “Thanks for the ride and the pinpoint info. I’ll see you at the checkpoint with my entourage in about an hour and a half.”

  “I’ll be there.” Robyn drove away as Nick rejoined his special guest.

  Nick patted the unconscious Kensky’s leg. “Gerald… you and I will talk over all your hopes and dreams while we discuss every detail of your past. I’m afraid it’s going to be rather unpleasant, but… oh crap, who am I kidding… it’s going to be hell on earth. Frankly, my soon to be rehabilitated killer, you will be making amends to the world I’m sure you never figured on making. I almost thought you might escape me into the legal system of three hots and a cot. Instead, we have this wonderful sharing time planned for you.”

  Driving out on the road to Route 5 toward the Canadian Border, Nick put his phone on speaker, and called Gus. “Where are you guys at?”

  “Two cars behind you getting on the Interstate with you,” Gus replied. “How did it go?”

  “I had to zap him before he took some school girl walking home from Everett Community College. It’s a damn good thing I had Robyn watching him.”

  “Who could know the killer would walk out of a courtroom, get in his car, and plot to nab and murder another victim?”

  “It’s a cunning move, John,” Nick answered. “The freak probably believes he’s the injured party. He thought it out right. We didn’t figure he’d make any move for days, maybe weeks. I know the cops wouldn’t be thinking it. If they would have had an inkling Kensky was capable of moving on another victim this quickly it goes without saying they would have put him under constant surveillance. Lesson learned.”

  “You at least put MacEachern on him, Muerto,” Gus remarked. “What’s the lesson? You did all you could and caught him again before anyone else was killed, so what lesson?”

  “I should have blown both feet off, and maybe the left side of his face.” Nick replied.

  Gus and John enjoyed Nick’s Monday morning quarterbacking mutilation remark inappropriately. “Hey, guys. I have a name to start with in our question and answer session. Robyn said she suspects her high school friend who disappeared while working the streets might have been Gerald’s first killing. She was never found like his other victims, and it happened very close to when his official trail of bodies began.”

  “That’s a start,” John said. “We are going to do another El Muerto, Payaso, and El Kabong movie, are we not?”

  “Of course, John. Your reputation is at stake. The cat videos are passing the last El Kabong appearance in hits on YouTube.”

  “It is just so, Muerto! To have cat videos get more hits than an El Kabong versus Isis video is an outrage!” John was warming up in intensity and volume when both Nick and Gus began laughing. “I do not deserve this disrespect for taking pride in my work.”

  “We’ll have you back at the top of the charts in no time, John,” Nick said. “Payaso. Make sure you apply your camphor. We’re going old school.”

  “Not the evisceration and bleach… c’mon, Nick. Man, that is nasty,” Gus replied. “Where in hell did you ever come up with that anyway?”

  “I did it to my second grade teacher for giving me an unsatisfactory in reading,” Nick replied. “Mrs. Brindly never did that again… come to think of it… she never did anything again.”

  “That’s not funny, Muerto. John believes everything you say. He’s in a coma of shock at such a heinous thing. You tell him right now Mrs. Brindly is just fine.”

  “Mrs. Brindly is fine, John.”

  “How can we be sure, Muerto? I’m certain you were capable of such a thing at seven.”

  “That’s hurtful, John,” Nick argued with a smile as he listened to his friends’ garbled amusement. In any case, we’re punishing Gerald for his crimes, and we will be learning new facts, all a rather grim setting for justice. It is only right he be made to pay in a horrific way for his transgressions by the infamous ‘Unholy Trio’. I wish we could have brought our other partner along, Fang the Ferocious.”

  “Deke’s fine where he is,” Gus replied. “Deke is too innocent to be bundled in with the likes of us. What’s the name we’re looking for? John has the satellite driven ‘Star Wars’ type laptop with him as requested. He can start doing the background checks on paths crossing between Robyn’s friend and Kensky.”

  “Claudia Jannasy,” Nick answered. “Check disappearances first on a family level, John. I doubt the cops launched any search parties for a missing hooker. The family would have inquired if they knew where she was headed.”

  “I’ll use MacEachern as my database query beginning. Did your friend the CIA Director check in about Kensky?”

  “Paul called when he heard the news. He offered condolences for Kensky along with Robyn’s help and a Canadian CIA safe-house. It wasn’t an official sanction; but since the only place Kensky will be showing his face again is in a YouTube cartoon, I’m sure Paul will be entertained.”

  “It all matches, Muerto,” John announced after only minutes of scanning through data. “Claudia had been checking in with her Mom once a week even while engaged in the oldest profession. Her Mom called and made official reports with the Seattle PD two weeks after not hearing from her daughter. The police checked her address given by the Mom, and questioned Claudia’s neighbors. They then opened an official ‘missing persons sheet’ on her. The Kensky murder and mutilation displays started shortly after with missing trophies. Claudia may have been one of his first. I have her picture, so we can refresh Gerald’s memory.”

  “Nice work, John. We won’t be stumbling around in the dark with him. If there were any other victims before Claudia, they may or may not have been in the Seattle area. Do we have a good timeline for Kensky we can work on disappearances with as the police and FBI should have done? He didn’t materialize out of thin air. I would have pushed for Tim and Grace to do the timeline check cross reference if I had wanted Kensky to have a real chance of prison life.”

  Ten minutes passed in quiet Route 5 driving before John spoke. “Right again. Kensky lived in Spokane before moving to Seattle. There were six disappearances during that time period. He was born and raised in Yakima. Both parents died in a car accident when he was in high school. He lived with his maternal grandmother, also in Yakima, until he moved to Spokane. She died shortly after he moved away. The rest of the family is in the Chicago, Illinois urban area. No missing persons during his time in Yakima. He’s worked construction jobs ever since high school. I’ll keep a file of pictures and names for him on the disappearances in Spokane.”

  “Well boys, it appears we’ll have a busy time ahead of us. Did you g
et the blood out of my mask, Kabong?”

  “I brought it along. I didn’t wash the nasty thing,” John replied. “Each superhero must clean his own uniform. It is in the bylaws of team action.”

  “You’re making that up, Kabong. Now you’re telling me I have to wear a smelly blood stained mask? And to think I was on the verge of promoting you to official El Muerto sidekick.”

  “Yes, you have been on the verge for many months. Now, Kabong has felt the sting of disappointment too long and has ceased all sucking up to El Muerto.”

  “It’s about time,” Gus said. “It will be good for you to wear a bloody mask, Muerto. It will build character.”

  “Yuck! I’m protesting to the league of superheroes.”

  Gus and John enjoyed that take by their fearless leader for a moment. “Who exactly is in this mysterious league, Muerto?”

  “I’m glad you asked, Payaso. Deke is the only member.”

  “That’s nepotism, Muerto!” John spoke in outraged tone for his partner Gus’s amusement. “Any decision made by your live in dog will of course be discounted.”

  “In that case I will wear the bloody mask. When we are at the house I will say your name and another special command. Deke will then tear off a part of you Cala will surely miss.”

  John sighed. “I washed your mask, Muerto.”

  “Nice.”

  * * *

  Kensky awoke naked in a dank cellar with a single light on above. Every movable part of his body ached from his being duct taped thoroughly in the metal chair. He noted his prosthetic hand and foot no longer clung in place to his stumps. The bare bulb moved eerily with no breeze or outside force. The bare bulb, yellowed with age, cast looming shadows on the surrounding walls. He saw an empty anteroom to his right with a table and chairs, lighted by a single lamp on the table.

  “Hello, Gerald.” The voice masking device created a frightening bass audio sound much like Darth Vader in the early Star Wars movies.

  Kensky’s head swiveled to the left where he squinted into the darkness. Three black caped and masked men sauntered toward him. Two had on black silk full face masks, but the one in the middle wore a horrific clown mask fitted to his face as if it were his real features. His heart pounded. He knew these figures. They were in snuff films on YouTube, always pulled by the YouTube staff, but uploaded again and again by unknown sources. They called themselves the Unholy Trio, but had some kind of comic secret identities Kensky couldn’t remember.