29. Angel Eyes
29
ANGEL EYES
R ed and blue lights bounce off the houses on this block as cops flood the scene. They’ve only just arrived. I’m impressed. Their response to the distress call made by the parents of the kids inside was swift. It must be a slow night everywhere else. As an ambulance pulls up, a rookie cop stumbles out of the house. I watch as he holds onto the door frame for balance. It does him no good. He lets go to stagger a few feet away from the entrance, bends over at the waist, and retches all over the front yard. A veteran cop comes to stand beside him. A few words are exchanged before the rookie receives a pat on the back and is left alone to throw up.
I can almost imagine what was said. It was probably something along the lines of “I know, it’s rough to look at. We’ll catch whoever did this.”
It’s what I would’ve said if I was still on the force and dealing with someone green behind the ears. Truth be told, they might never learn that Knox Keele, Thatcher and Sagan Hunt, and Beatrix Starr were ever here. They’re good, I have to give them that. Knox moved through the shadows and crept up the drain spout like a spider, quietly and efficiently, to let the others in—one through the back of the house and two through the front. Being six and half feet tall and built like a linebacker in my early years, I’d never been able to do something like that. After only twenty minutes, they’d re-emerged. First, one of the twins had slipped out of the shadows, returning with the car and pulling it up to the front. The two other men had made quick work of carrying the body out of the house and throwing it into the trunk lined with heavy plastic. Beatrix had exited the house last, scurrying like a quiet little mouse to the car where she then slipped into the back.
They were here and gone like ghosts.
Given that this neighborhood is all but filled with people that either work the nightshift or are constantly working doubles, it means most of the houses are empty and those that aren’t have residents sleeping soundly. There’s no one around or up to have noticed their presence. Yup, these guys are definitely going to get away with it.
Just like all the other kills they’ve committed since their arrival months ago.
This is what months of stalking young Beatrix has led to: a possession of her and all her worldly belongings. They’re settling down and making a life for themselves here, in my territory. Months of planning have certainly all come to a head. Good for them, I guess. They’ve gotten what they wanted. They worked hard for it. Not a lot of people these days understand or appreciate what can be achieved with patience and dedication. But I can’t be happy for them. Not when their chaotic, messy ways might interrupt the ecosystem I’ve cultivated in this city.
So, the mystery of why the Hunt twins are here has been solved. Too bad I was too late to realize what they were up to. Maybe then I would’ve stepped in and stopped them sooner.
The city of Chicago is mine, and if they think they’re going to rule the roost here, they’re sorely mistaken.
My cigarette sits between my lips, unlit. I don’t need it tonight. The slight comfort it brings is overshadowed by a thick, dark, and tumultuous stillness that envelops me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. If I was decades younger, I’d immediately lean into it and fall into old habits. Deadly habits. But I’m creeping toward seventy and my body doesn’t work the same way it once did. My bones crack when I sit down or stand up, my sight isn’t what it used to be, and my left hand has a slight tremor to it now. I need to proceed cautiously if I’m going to remove them.
Cautious doesn’t mean slow though. I do need to act, and soon. The longer they’re around, the more they trample through what I’ve claimed as mine. With a grunt, I reach into my front pocket and pull out my phone. It’s not my primary one. That one sits in the cupholder between the driver and passenger seat. It’s buzzed twice since I’ve been sitting here but I leave that phone untouched for the moment.
Me: I need a few old-school trackers. Think you can get me some?
Once I shoot that one off, I pull up a different contact and send another message.
Me: Next time I text, you’ll be given a location. Go to it and I’ll give you further instructions.
I start to put my burner away, but it vibrates in my hand before I can toss it aside. I flip it open and read the messages that’s appeared.
Jakob: U ain’t dead yet old man? I thought you was. Haven’t heard from U in foreva
Jakob: I ain’t UR bitch to control btw
I snort. Kids these days. They think with a gun and a handful of their toughest friends by their side they’re unstoppable. Too bad for them, that’s not the case.
Me: I have pictures of you and that special shipment that came last week. I can send it to the police if you’d rather end up behind bars.
Me: Or I’ll just take your little sister and show her that Angel Eyes isn’t just some ghost from the past
This time, I wait, knowing that will get his attention. The next message comes thirty seconds later.
Jakob: Send me the location and I’ll send it to my guys.
Content with that answer, I slide the phone back into my pocket. I turn my car on and pull away onto the road. I go unnoticed by the police as they study the bloody crime scene.
The drive back to Chasm is a quiet one, my mind no longer racing with annoyance. The stillness blankets the irritation. I’m almost furious. It would be easy to lean into the molten emotion that sits just beyond that stillness. But I don’t. Now that I know what these parasites are doing, I know what I need to do. I won’t let them breed that pretty young Starr girl to make more killers.
When the Bright Starr Funeral Home comes into view, I don’t even spare it a glance. I don’t have to look to see that the chimney is already smoking. The Hunts are getting rid of their evidence. Smart. As was taking over the funeral home in the first place.
Though I do have to wonder why they don’t leave a calling card. All those killings and no one will know who did them. Doesn’t that bother them? I left a calling card. It didn’t get me caught. All it got me was the nickname Angel Eyes. But maybe they’re just being overly cautious.
The rest of the town of Chasm is quiet. Probably quieter than the neighborhood I’d just come from. It’s a quaint place. The deli in the center of town and the bakery by the small park have some of the best food I’ve had in a while. I’m almost known by name at both. Not the name they’ve called me online and on TV, my real one.
By the time I get to the old steel bridge that’s dangerously rusty and missing pieces, the phone in the cupholder has gone off three more times. I need to answer. I want to. But I need to see this job through first. Slowly, I pull my car to the side of the road to hide it in heavy shadows. Climbing out is a little difficult, my body stiff from sitting so long. My footsteps crunch softly beneath me as I move toward the bridge. The flashy red sports car sitting in the middle of it has its driver’s door open wide. The battery must’ve died since last night when Sagan left it here because the interior is dark now.
I ignore the abandoned car as I approach the bridge’s railing. There, a thick rope is tied around some metal. It groans as the length of it, dangling off the other side, swings ever so slightly. I lean over the bridge, where, dangling by his neck, is the lifeless body of Trevor Michaels. Or at least that’s who I think it is—that’s what the name on the registration for the car says. I watched as one of the twins, Sagan I think, tied the noose around the young man’s neck and tossed him over. The Hunt twin hadn’t even paused to watch as the guy thrashed about until going still. He simply left. An hour later, both twins returned. One driving Trevor’s car, the other following in their own vehicle. They staged the scene to look like a suicide, and by all accounts, they did a good job.
But this is where I’ll make it more interesting.
I grab the taut rope and, with a grunt, heave Trevor back up. I lay the corpse of the young man on the ground and straddle him. Reaching back, I pull my knife free and get to work. The way my blade moves is smooth and driven by muscle memory. I’ve missed this. My mouth stretches into a smile. It’s been almost a decade since I’ve done a job like this, but it’s like riding a bicycle. It takes me less than three minutes to do what I need before I’m back up on my feet. I pocket my keepsakes and throw Trevor’s body back over the side of the bridge so it will be left just like it had been.
Too bad Trevor was already dead. It would’ve been nice to hear his screams. The sound of terror is the second best part of the experience. Oh well, maybe another time.
Maybe then it’ll be one of the Hunt twins since they dared to hunt where they don’t belong. But maybe not. Going straight for the main kill wouldn’t be all that fun. If I’m going to get back in the game, I should take my time. Especially given the current odds. Four against one won’t be a fair fight.
I whistle as I head back to my car. After climbing in and turning it on to get the heat blasting, I finally grab my primary phone from the cupholder and check my missed messages.
Shay: Got an email from the doctor’s office. It’s not good news
Shay: I hate this so much
Shay: Are you coming home tonight?
Shay: If not, please stay safe. I need you around forever 3.
Shay: I love you
My heart sinks. Damn it. I should’ve been there with my old lady, to hold her while she read the email. I should be worried about my own family right now, not seething as this new one forms just under my nose.
So many tests, so much money thrown down the drain, and what do we get for it? Heartache? Loss for something we never had? I promised that woman the world, and I’m failing her. My teeth clench together as glare out into the darkness. As much as I’d love to drive straight home and disregard the new killers who have settled on the outskirts of my territory, I can’t. I live in a world where from the comfort of my couch, I control the streets and how much blood runs through them. With these four on the loose, without anyone reining them in, they’ll give the rest of the city the idea that they can go wild as well.
That just won’t do.
I like the control I have. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let the Hunt twins and this small family they’re forming ruin it all for me.
I’m not an unreasonable man though. These guys don’t know about me or the rules I’ve put in place for the underground criminal world. But that’ll change. Maybe just knowing they’re being watched will be enough for them to back off. But if it’s not?
Well, Angel Eyes might have to rise from the dead and strike for the first time in over ten years.