Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
Liam
“Hey, Freezer Pop, where’s the ring?”
Jesse gives me an odd look. “I’m not… why?”
“Ring.”
“I’ll get it.”
“No, you’re staying here until you warm up enough that I feel like it’s okay for you to go outside,” Gabriel says as he heads into the kitchen.
Jesse sighs but shows no sign of crawling his naked ass out from under our electric blanket. “In my bedroom, there’s a box under the bed; I think it’s an old shoebox. I threw it somewhere in there.”
“Gabriel, I’m about to venture under Jesse’s bed. I’m afraid of what I’ll find. Give me the strength to do this.”
He simply pats my hand. “You’ll be fine, hon.”
Jesse’s face is all scrunched up. “I’m not… there’s nothing else concerning under there!”
“I will be the judge of that. I’ve got my gloves in case I have to wade through your porn. Is it just a stack of photographs of Matthew? You really could do better.”
“Why the hell did I ever ask you to help me?” he growls.
“Keep him angry. It’ll warm him up faster,” I assure Gabriel as I head out the door.
On my way out to my car, I call Matthew.
“I see Krampus has decided to call on this wonderful Christmas evening,” Matthew answers.
“You originally went to school for graphic design, right? Before failing spectacularly?”
“I didn’t fail, I just realized it wasn’t for me.”
“I need you to make me a photo. If you’re not skilled enough, I’m sure you suckered someone else back then into being your friend.”
“I was quite skilled, thank you very much. What kind of photograph?”
“I’ll send you the information. Don’t forget I kept you from you deepthroating a bomb.”
“All of this sounds concerning.”
“Do you want to help Jesse out?” I ask.
“I’m on it.”
I hang up on him without even telling him bye to cement the threat.
Instead, I drive to Jesse’s and once there, I send Matthew what I need him to do before heading inside.
I wander the house until I find Jesse’s bedroom and walk inside.
Really, Gabriel is right, I’m being too risky.
I normally would never allow what I’ve done to be as open as this is, but I know that in order to get Whitaker to bite, we must first play a game.
And Whitaker needs to realize how poorly he’s doing at that game.
The ring is perfect.
It’s a class reunion ring that was likely from a girl he’d been dating.
It doesn’t have any identification on it, so I make sure to scratch his initials into it along with the initials of some random girl from his graduating class who died a few years ago.
I toss a sloppy heart in between before sliding it onto a necklace.
I grab both ends of the necklace and jerk them apart, forcing the chain to break.
Then I head off to deal with the body with my hands and face covered.
This part is significantly harder. Not only am I in a residential area, but the cold and ice are fun to contend with.
I wrap Tate up in a tarp and heave him onto a sled I found in his shed.
I drag him out of the way and set to work removing all of the blood from the ice.
Between my different lights, some cleaning products, and a shovel I use to break away any ice that we touched, I feel pretty confident that when the detectives come out here tomorrow, they’re not going to find a single thing left out on the ice.
I don’t want to leave his body out on the pond. I don’t want his death to look like it happened in self-defense. I want to portray that Whitaker left him in this position as a taunt, just like he had with Nadine so that nothing seems different.
The deaths should match, and while I know their deaths were significantly different, my plan is to set him up so that the police immediately know he’s connected to the case.
It’s a taunt.
After glancing at my phone to make sure Gabriel had picked up Michaels’ car, I move the body into a chair that sits on the porch of Tate’s home.
And then I take a picture on the phone that Whitaker had left at Jesse’s house and send the picture to Whitaker.
Me: This is a joke at this point. How many more of your pawns would you like me to dispose of?
The phone is silent for a long while. So long that I start to question if he’s even going to reply.
Whitaker: I will destroy everything you love and then you.
Me: You’re getting sloppy, Whitaker. Are you running out of pawns so you have to send someone as inexperienced as Tate? You’ve already used up your good pawns, and this was the only one left? What a joke.
Whitaker: I will fucking kill you.
Me: I can’t wait to watch you try. I will find you. And I will rip you apart piece by fucking piece.
Whitaker: I’ll go for Gabriel first. I’ll make sure when I cut him open layer by layer that he’s awake for all of it.
Me: You just said the worst thing you could ever have said. You’re done, Whitaker. The moment your eyes shifted back onto Jesse, your game was done. Run, Whitaker, it might be your only chance.
Whitaker: I’m not a fucking coward.
Me: Are you not? That’s all I’ve seen so far as you hide in safety.
Whitaker: I will tear you apart.
Me: Your threats are just repeated words that mean nothing to me. How long are you going to keep repeating them? I’m already bored. Why don’t you come out and play?
Whitaker: You really think I’m that fucking stupid?
Me: Let’s make a bet. I bet by the end of the week, you’re going to be bleeding out at my feet. You will become nothing. There’s no one left that you matter to.
I pull the battery out of the phone and slip both into my pocket, rather pleased with myself.
Then I pull out my ink kit and rub Tate’s finger in the ink before I press his fingerprint down on a small card.
I clean his finger carefully and tuck the card inside my phone case before retreating to watch the body from inside my car.
A part of me hopes that Whitaker comes to investigate, so I leave the body as is until dawn begins to break, when I know someone will walk past and see it.
Then I call the police with the fancy phone Whitaker lent me and throw out my most distressed version of an innocent passerby before removing the battery again.
Now I simply wait until my phone rings and I see Michaels’ name.
“Hello?” I ask.
“You’re not still playing prisoner?”
“Got bored. Was looking into last night’s vic. Got something for me? I’m busy.”
“Too busy for a new body?”
“Never too busy for a new body.”
“Get over to the address I’m sending you. It was just called in, but I have a bad feeling.”
“I’ll head right over.”
“Figure something out. We’ve had too many deaths, Paige. We’ve let this go on for too long. We look like we don’t know how to do our fucking job,” Michaels barks.
“That does sound concerning.”
“Paige, just…” I can hear his anger even though he doesn’t say a single other word. I try not to smile while I patiently wait for his tantrum to be over. I really am such a gentleman.