Chapter 5 Grace #2
“You really do know me too well,” I say, laughing as I follow her out the door.
Saffron grins over her beer, raising a hand to cheers me with her fried pickle dipped in ranch.
“Our pickles touched.” I stifle a smile as Saffron falls sideways in the booth, laughing. “What? This is serious.”
“You’re ridiculous.” She wipes a tear from the corner of her eye as she sits upright. Saffron pops the fried pickle into her mouth, her eyes rolling back as she chews quickly. “And these are ridiculously good. I could kiss the line cook.”
“Honestly? Same,” I say around a mouthful of my own. “It’s a good thing we ordered two.”
“Best decision we ever made.” Saffron nods solemnly before she stuffs her mouth with another few chips. She washes it down with a chug of beer, slamming the tumbler onto the table with a satisfied sigh. “Good shit. Are you sure you don’t want one? It goes great with all the fried food.”
“Your metabolism scares me.” I swirl my glass of vodka tonic. “I’m good with this.”
She shrugs, popping another pickle into her mouth as she turns to look at the TV screen to the side of our booth. At least a dozen TVs are spread around Mr. Brewster’s. Many—like the one Saffron is enamored with—are showing the hockey game, while the others are broadcasting the evening news.
Normally, I’d be watching the game with Saffron, but the story they’re covering on the news catches my attention. There’s no sound playing, but the title indicates they’re running a story about the ongoing search for Moriton’s latest serial killer.
Red 7.
Chills spread over my body as the screen flashes to a picture of the mayor’s son.
Brenden Cooper stares back with soft brown eyes, his handsome smile hiding the monster lurking just beneath the surface.
Before I have time to process it, the broadcast switches to a video of Brenden’s father, Mayor Cooper, speaking to the media about his youngest son’s tragic passing.
“Brenden Cooper was a thoughtful, kind, and selfless boy. He always put others’ needs before his own and wanted to make the world a better place.
” He raises a hand to his eye, wiping away a nonexistent tear, as his wife, standing behind his shoulder, sniffles into a handkerchief.
“I have no doubt Brenden was doing something noble just before he was killed. It’s the only thing that brings me and my family comfort. ”
I resist the urge to scoff. Real noble…
A reporter draws his attention. “Mr. Cooper! Do you have any idea who could have done something like this?”
Mayor Cooper nods tersely. “We have reason to believe the serial killer Red 7 is behind this. I can’t share any more details, as it could impede the investigation.”
“Do you have any last comments you’d like to share with the people of Moriton?”
Blythe Cooper pulls his shoulders back as he stares dead into the camera.
“The city of Moriton is committed to finding and bringing this deranged killer to justice—for Brenden, and the countless other lives lost because of this monster. Red 7, if you’re watching, we’re coming for you. You will be found. You will pay.”
The broadcast cuts to a sleekly dressed blond woman sitting behind a desk, her smile bright despite the grisly facts she details.
“Brenden Cooper’s body was spotted Saturday morning hanging from the I-30 overpass.
He was found fully nude with a large broken heart carved into the center of his chest, a known calling card of the famous serial killer, Red 7.
The bodies of Josh Seraph, 26, and Scott Trimble, 28, were also discovered at the scene, hanging in a similar manner to Cooper.
Seraph and Trimble were identified Saturday evening at Moriton Memorial by their respective families. ”
She pauses for a beat. “The police are looking for information about the night, asking anyone who saw or heard something to come forward. For more on the story, go to…”
I stop paying attention at that point, turning my eyes to the watered-down drink in my hand. I take it back in a single gulp, which catches Saffron’s eye.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Just some story on the news. Freaked me out a bit.”
“Which one?” She turns her golden eyes to the screen I was watching, listening to the recap with a stony expression. “Huh. Brenden Cooper’s dead.”
“Seems that way.”
She shrugs. “I’d buy whoever did it a round.”
My throat is unusually dry as I go to respond. “They say Red 7 did it.”
“Well, good. Brenden deserved it. You know Angie? A couple of weeks back, the fucker and his weirdo friends got her into their car—tried to carve her up.”
My mind flashes with an image of Saffron’s friend. The last time I saw her, she had a thick, blood-soaked bandage wrapped around her arm. “Those are the guys who did that? Fuck.”
“I know.” Saffron shakes her head, her mouth pinched. “It’s all so messed up. Everyone thought he was a perfect angel just because he was one of the mayor’s sons.” She shakes her head in disgust. “I’m glad he’s gone.”
“Me too. I hope the worms are feasting.” For more than one reason.
A somber air hangs over us as we go back to eating, this time in silence. I’m sure Saffron is busy thinking about her poor friend, but I can’t take my mind off Brenden’s murder. Specifically, his murderer.
I keep thinking about what he whispered in my ear the night he saved me.
How my pulse raced as he promised he was going to do bad things to me.
I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, exactly, but I’m betting the enormous amount of stress I’m under is breaking my brain.
That’s the only reason I would be fondly remembering a masked killer. Right?
“You sure you don’t want me to spend the night?”
Saffron stands in the doorway of my apartment, a bag of leftovers dangling from her right hand and her brow pinched in worry.
“I’ll be okay.” I reach forward to wrap my arms around her. “Thank you for tonight. It helped get my mind off things.” For a while, at least…
“You’ll call me if you need anything?”
“I promise.” I pull back, giving her what I hope is a bright smile. “You’ll be okay driving home?”
She laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Always. I’ll even use my blinkers.”
“Please do that regularly.” I fix her with a serious stare. “I’m kind of alarmed to hear you don’t.”
“Well, I gotta run!” Saffron turns on her heel, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder as she hurries down the hallway. “Remember—call me!”
I chuckle under my breath as I close the door, making sure to lock it tightly. Turning around, I press my back to the door, letting out a deep breath as a heavy silence falls over the apartment. Without Saffron, the place seems emptier than normal. Creepier..
“Maybe I should get a cat or something,” I murmur, rubbing my arms as I head into my bedroom.
I take a quick shower to wash off the cigarette smog clinging to my hair and skin, then fix myself a cup of my favorite sleepytime herbal tea. The taste soothes my frazzled nerves, and within minutes, my lids droop.
Huh. I don’t remember it having this much of an effect before…
I shrug, downing the last of the tea and hopping into bed, snuggling deep under the covers as it becomes increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open. I fall asleep in record time, blissfully unaware of what was in my tea—and the monster peering through the slits in my closet door.