Have You Ever Heard of The Lent Killer, Page 3

III

  I guess you’re wondering what I am doing in the trunk of this car. I too am pondering the same question.

  The night had started as planed. I downed cheap, Mexican knock-off painkillers with pints of cheap, American larger. I paid the strippers with the money I collected from a dead man’s wallet and left his corpse in a dumpster. I had a good time and enjoyed my mini vacation from reality. I let my guard down.

  By 3 am I was barely conscious. I hailed a taxi and gave the cabbie an address three blocks from where I was staying. Neil Young was singing on the radio, reminding me of my childhood. I was half asleep when she remarked, “It looks like you had a good night.”

  She had a soft voice that sounded familiar. “Do I know you?” I asked sincerely.

 

  “Come on buddy, you’re not in the bar anymore?” the driver responded.

  I wished that she’d turn her head, so that I could see her face and be sure. She had autumn brown hair that was obviously self-applied store-bought dye. Turn around let me see you. “No I mean it. My name is John Riley, have we meet before? Your voice sounds like an old friend’s.”

  “That’s sweet, but no. I just moved to the city.”

  I wasn’t sure what city I was in. I knew that I was in the middle of Florida. It was only a few days ago that I strangled a truck driver in Orlando and I was heading south from there.

  “Oh yeah, where are you from?” I asked.

  “Not here.”

  “Why did you come then?”

  No answer. Ok then, doesn’t matter. Just take me home. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come on like I was hitting on you. I was just being friendly.”

  “That’s ok. All us cabbies are a little jumpy nowadays, with that sicko out there,” she said.

  Sicko? Have I ever killed a cabbie? “Yeah, I noticed there has been a lot of crime lately in the papers, it’s like there is a murder everyday, but that is life in the city.” I said gently with no hint of irony.

  “Yeah, I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. But that asshole has been going around beating and murdering taxi drivers. Five hacks killed in four months, it’s spooky.”

  Really? I guess I didn’t notice that there had been another predator in my territory. I’ve been too consumed by my own doings to notice the presence of others. I wonder how many other hunters are out there. “Well, I can assure you that I am not him.”

  He is a dog and I am a lion. She is a lamb. But I am too tired to strike tonight and I have already had my fill. She will never know how close she came to the devil.  

  "That's good to hear," she laughed. 

   

  I've heard that laugh before. Please turn around so that I can see you. I shifted sides in the back seat, from behind her to her opposite. I could see her side profile, but it’s dark. She noticed my shuffling, but didn’t seem to care. "You know, I swear that I've meet you before."

  "Nah, not in this lifetime, buddy."

  And then it happened. She turned her face, ever so slightly and smiled; the same vacant eyes.

  It was Sheila Watson.

  It couldn't have been. But it was. There was no denying it.

  "You're dead," I said to myself. It was only a whisper.

  "What?" she screamed and slammed on the breaks. My head slammed into the plastic divider. No seat belts. She reached over and hit me with something.

 

  I tensed up. She had a Taser. "No wait." I mumbled incoherently.

  She hit me again and voila, I wake up in the trunk of a car.