Escalation Ch. 03

A three hour drive ended at a gun-show where I was able to buy a 9mm gun without registering it, for less than four hundred, plus another hundred dollars worth of rounds. A few hours at the gun range, and a couple of hundred dollars worth of instruction was enough to leave me convinced I could use it, as a last resort. A weekend flea-market visit rewarded me with four $60 stun guns and $40 telescoping batons. A nice ski mask was all of nine dollars. A beater car, purchased from a guy on Craigslist cost me $600. The plates from the long-term parking at the airport cost me $8 to get into the lot, and five minutes of my time.

It took three days to plant the GPS on Anderson's car, and another week of following to find him in a vulnerable place. The best thing about my position was that I had cash, I had time, and I was staying somewhere nobody would find me easily.

Getting GPS's on the other two cars was easy. I knew where they worked, and what they drove.

It was almost three weeks since my beating, and I hadn't harmed a fly. Then Anderson made a visit to a bar, and stayed late enough to be both drunk, and to exit the place alone. The Taser from behind left him helpless long enough for me to bag his head, drag him behind the rear dumpster, and start the beating. By the time I was done with him, he'd be lucky to walk again. I got an inordinate amount of joy listening to his bones break. It's hard to break a thigh bone, I learned. It's not hard at all to make jelly out of knees and elbows, not with those telescoping batons. They worked great! Hands and feet only take a couple of quick shots. The whole thing probably didn't take more than ten minutes.

I considered pissing on him, but I didn't know enough about DNA or what kind of evidence that would leave. Better safe than sorry. I did take his wallet just to be spiteful. I only got about thirty dollars out of it, and dumped it down a sewer drain. I took the GPS off of the undercarriage of his car and vamoosed.

Debbie was a waitress in a high-end restaurant. She made better money than I thought a waitress could earn. After a few weeks, I was spending more time at her place than I was in my apartment. After a few more days I was spending most of my nights with her. We spent time together during the day and on the weekends. I told her that I was looking for a job, explaining my absences during the day. During the evening she didn't get home until eleven or later, after closing, and driving home.

I think she knew something was wrong, but she didn't press me. She was affectionate and loving, and generous in bed. I felt bad sometimes about the way I was using her. The night of Anderson's beating, I beat her home by about 10 minutes.

I was in a great mood and feeling amorous. I massaged her feet, and pampered her, then took her to bed and fucked the shit out of her. She was lying in the bed next to me, gasping, by the time I was done. "Damn, Marty! What got into you tonight?"

"Can't a guy make love to his girl when he feels like it?"

She giggled. "I'm your girl now?"

"Do I need to show you again?"

"Not tonight, I don't think I could survive it. I might enjoy a refresher in the morning."

~ * ~ * ~

I was feeling good. She got her refresher, and we spent the day out, window shopping, and I bought her lunch. She asked me how the job hunt was going, and I told her I had a few leads. I confessed that some of those were out of town, and she didn't seem happy about that. She did tell me, there wasn't anything anchoring her to where we were.

She got ready for her job at 3:30 in the afternoon. Shortly after I'd kissed her goodbye, I called Amy's phone from my new burner Trac phone. "Hello?" I heard.

"One down," I said, and hung up.

The GPS indicated that Eric was no longer living at home. He was staying in a cheap motel. That was too easy. I'd save him for last. Jack was still at home, but I imagine things were pretty frosty in his house. After two days of observation, I determined his wife left for work before him. My plans for him were a little tricky. I parked around the corner, pre-dawn, and hid in his side yard. I'll admit it, I was nervous as shit.

The wait seemed interminable, but eventually, I heard the electric garage door open. The wife's Camry pulled out, and I scrambled into the garage on my belly. The door closed behind me, and I knew I had about a half-hour to go. Sure enough, Jack entered the garage from the kitchen, coffee in one hand, keys in the other. I heard the chirp of the car lock, and snuck around the back of the car. The driver door was open and he was putting the coffee in its holder when I nailed him with the stun-gun. The bag went over his head, and the beating began.

I was thorough, and he had stopped moaning when I dumped him in his own trunk. That was more work than I expected. I left it cracked, so he could breathe, and someone would probably find him before too long. Using his cell phone, I called the receptionist. I did my best imitation of his voice, which probably wasn't that good, but what's the chance she'd notice? Four hundred people worked in that building.

I tried to sound hoarse. "Linda, this is Jack Emerson. I've got some kind of bug, and I'm going to see the doctor. Could you leave a message for me, letting Thompson know?"

She assured me she would.

His wallet yielded over sixty dollars. I figured it cost me about a hundred and fifty dollars for the one-time use, disposable baton, stun-gun, clothing and mask. I'd let him owe me the $90.

I checked to make sure I didn't leave anything behind, took the GPS off his car, and I casually walked out, taking his remote garage door opener with me. I shut it behind me. I walked down to my car, and drove off. I dumped the gloves, mask, shirt and shoes in the Goodwill dumpster. It was the second outfit I'd had to discard, but you never could be too careful. The stun-gun, remote, and baton went over the side of a bridge. It might have been a mistake, but I kept the GPS. Those things were pricey.

I called Amy. She must have recognized the number. "Marty?"

"Two down," I said and hung up.

I wanted to take care of Eric, before he found out about Jack. I figured that since Anderson no longer worked there, his 'accident' might not be common knowledge. Even if it was, they might think it was a one-off. Once word got out about Jack at work, Eric would be on his toes.

I went to Debbie's and bought fresh Danishes on the way. My excuse for sneaking out early while she was sleeping. I gave her breakfast in bed, and ravaged her the rest of the morning. By the time we went to lunch, she was walking funny, and was wearing a smile that looked permanent. I told her I was hoping to get an interview in Austin, and I might be gone a few days the next week. She seemed excited. Austin's a great place to live, if you can deal with all the crazies.

Debbie wasn't crazy about the beard I was growing, but she put up with it, not like she had any other choice. She did suggest I'd have a better chance at the interview clean shaven. So I kept it neat for her. With a ball cap, beard and sunglasses, I figured my own mother wouldn't recognize me.

Once she was gone, I did some reconnoitering. My old house was empty. I called the phone and it had been disconnected. The grass looked terrible. The curtains were gone from the windows. It looked abandoned. I didn't stick around, I didn't know if anybody was looking for me, and by staying with Debbie the last few days, and driving a car with the original owner's plates (most of the time), I figure I was pretty invisible. I was doing everything with cash, and I had plenty of that. I never went near a bank.

Once it was close to the end of the work day, I paid a visit to Eric's new domicile.

I backed the car in a couple of doors down, after dealing with the only camera on the hall outside of his room. Until he arrived, I waited in the backseat, behind tinted windows. Another thirty bucks for the dark film. When he unlocked the door, I slid out, and rushed him. He didn't even turn around until I'd hit him with the stun gun, and pushed him into the room. The bag went over his head, and the steel baton came out.

I wasn't as rough on him. That was my way of accepting his apology. He'd probably walk again, most likely with a limp. He'd be laid up for a while. I left him with his broken limbs zip-tied together, and his head loosely bagged. I ransacked his wallet, and left him a hundred and forty dollars poorer. It almost paid for his beating. I'd forgive him the last ten bucks.

I checked to make sure the coast was clear, and made my exit. The magnetically attached GPS took all of about ten seconds to remove. I drove back to Debbie's.

When she got home, I had the bubble bath ready, and the candles in the bathroom lit. I led her to her repose, and handed her the glass of champagne.

She sighed as she lowered her sexy body into the water. "What brought this on?" she asked.

"You were there when I needed you. That's important to me. You're important to me. Thank you," I said.

"Mmmm," she breathed, sipping her champagne and settling into the water. "You sure know how to spoil a girl."

While she was bathing, I fed her a couple of chocolate covered strawberries. When her toes started to prune, I dried her off, and led her to bed, where I gave her my best massage. "I can't believe I ever let you go," she murmured. "I was such a young fool."

"I should have fought for you."

She sighed, and didn't argue. When I'd finished with her back, I worked her front. I finished between her legs. I leaned over her, looking into her gorgeous face. I was going to miss her.

"You're better than I deserve," I said, before I could stop myself.

"I don't think that's possible," she murmured, smiling sleepily as I gently eased in and out of her.

I took her lovingly. Twice. I kissed her, held her, and told her how important she was to me. I confessed I loved her, and never had gotten completely over her. She came only seconds after I told her that, and cried, clinging to me.

I fell asleep holding her. I knew it would be the last time for a while. Maybe forever.

It was time to find Sheri.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

To Be Concluded in the Next and Final Chapter . . .