Debts Unsettled, page 34
“Tell me why you’re great?”
“I’ve got a great mom, a new best friend—”
Michael stopped buttering his bread and turned to look at Jacob. “MJ?”
“Yep. And I’m happy you’re staying with us.”
“I appreciate that, Jacob. I’m fortunate to have you and your mother as friends.”
Linda said, “We feel the same, Michael.”
“I’ve told Jacob about the man who’s responsible for the attempt on his father’s life. I told him the man won’t stop until he gets the book.”
Michael frowned as he considered what she said.
“Michael, Jacob deserves to know what’s going on. He needs to be diligent at being aware of his surroundings, no matter where he is or what he’s doing.”
Michael took a bite of bread and considered what Linda said. “I agree with your mom, Jacob. You’re smart and I trust her judgement. You need to have that awareness.
Michael removed the cap from the salad dressing and poured. “I can’t stress enough how dangerous this man is,” he said as he screwed the salad dressing cap onto the bottle. “I just spoke with him.”
Linda said, “Where? When?”
Michael set the bottle on the table and looked up. “Right after I sent you the text. I called him and told him he’s well known. The DA’s office knows what he’s doing, as does the Oregon Department of Corrections. I told him Billy has confessed that he attempted to kill Russell—”
Linda jumped in, eyebrows lowered, and hands spread shoulder high. “How do you know that, Michael?”
Michael’s jaw went slack. His head jerked back, and he closed his eyes. “Oh, Linda… I apologize.” He looked at her. “Carrie told me just before Daniel attacked me. I assumed she told you.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“My injuries scattered my mind, but I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But I can understand how sidetracked your mind was. Apology accepted.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not sure calling him was a good idea. Aren’t you concerned that what you told him will ramp up his efforts?”
“Yes, but I believe you’re correct. The crash into your house injured him and he’s recuperating. He will panic and make a mistake—”
“Or do something stupid,” Linda said, “something catastrophic, which will hurt more people.”
“He won’t risk doing something catastrophic. The grenade into my apartment is the most collateral damage he’s willing to risk. He doesn’t want to damage the book.”
“You’re right,” Linda conceded.
Michael looked at Jacob. “What do you think?
“Well, Christmas is coming up, and I always look forward to watching Christmas movies with mom.”
Linda and Michael looked at each other’s confusion, and both said, “Okay—”
“We should ‘Home Alone’ him.”
Michael wiped his mouth and fingers on his napkin. “What do you mean, Jacob?”
“How the Home Alone kid thought of all the ways the robbers could get in the house, then set traps for them.”
Michael looked at him, then at Linda, who was smiling, then back at Jacob. “Jacob, you’re on to something.”
64
After dinner, Jacob and Michael helped Linda clean up and put away leftovers.
When finished, Linda suggested they move to the living room. They sat and Linda looked at Michael. “Now, what do you sense Jacob is on to?”
Michael looked at Jacob. “I loved your suggestion and how you illustrated it by using the Home Alone movie.”
Jacob beamed while brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Thanks, Michael.”
“But we need to approach it from a broader perspective.”
“How’s that?” Linda looked over at Jacob.
“I liked the movie. The difference is that Kevin, that was the kid’s name, right, Jacob?”
“Yes.”
“The movie script limited Kevin’s world to his family’s house and yard.”
Jacob sat up and leaned forward. “But he’d go out to buy groceries and do other stuff.”
“Yes, but it was during the day. He knew the burglars only came after it was dark, right?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“But our world is much bigger. You go to school during the week, and sometimes on the weekends spend time at other people’s houses. Your mom goes to work and runs errands. I go to work and… spend time in the hospital.” Linda and Jacob shook their heads in agreement and laughed.
“So, we must brainstorm how Daniel and his henchman—the bad guy equivalents of the Home Alone burglars—might attack us?”
Michael hesitated. Neither Linda nor Jacob responded. “He’ll attack our heart.”
Linda pondered that. The understanding and realization crept up on her and hit her hard. “No.” She turned her face toward Jacob. Wide eyed and lips parted, she gasped and looked back to Michael. “What do we do?”
Jacob watched his mom look at Michael for an answer.
Michael leaned forward, looked at Jacob, and gave a sigh. “Jacob, he will most likely come after you. If he kidnapped you, it would break our hearts.” Michael glanced at Linda. “If Daniel Wygal doesn’t know who you and your mom are yet, eventually he will. It feels awkward to tell you this, Jacob, but you need to know so you can be on guard.”
Jacob said, “I don’t want it to surprise me; I’d rather know what might happen.” Linda leaned over and hugged him.
They brainstormed how to best protect Jacob. They divided duties:
Michael and Linda will share the responsibility of taking Jacob to and from school.
Linda will meet with the school principal and Jacob’s teachers to discuss the danger Jacob may face.
Michael will meet with Matt, Carrie, and MJ to alert them.
There was a lull until Michael turned and looked at Linda. “Tomorrow, I’ll contact the security alarm company I used. I’ll have them install a system here. Is that okay, Linda?”
“Yes, ask if they can bill me.”
“No, it’s on me; consider it my rent payment.”
“Thank you.” Linda nodded her head once as she smiled.
Jacob said, “Why don’t you guys get guns?”
Michael looked at Linda and detected a slight shaking of her head. “Jacob, the State requires a lengthy process to get a gun; time we don’t have. And they require a class to get a concealed weapon permit.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“But I have something else we can use. I’ll be right back.” He attempted to run up the stairs, but his body protested. He returned with his backpack and removed the pepper spray canister.
“I used this the other day on one of Daniel’s henchmen and need to replace it. But I bought two. This one new,” Michael said, as he handed it to Jacob. “It’s for you to carry.”
“All right. Thanks.” Jacob turned it in his hands, looking it over.
Michael showed him how to use it. “Tomorrow, I’ll get more, so we each have one, plus a spare. Simple to use, and effective.”
Michael sensed Linda wondering why he’d used the pepper spray. “Linda, let’s discuss that later.”
“Let’s discuss it now. We agreed to keep Jacob informed.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m not accustomed to talking about these things—”
“In front of a 12-year-old?” Jacob finished Michael’s sentence.
“Yes, but I forget that you’re not just any 12-year-old.”
“That’s because I’m being raised by a hard-working single mom.”
Linda leaned her head forward, while her forehead met the heel of her hand. “Jacob.”
Michael laughed. “Linda, do you expect less?”
Linda smiled and looked at Jacob, who was grinning. “No, he can’t help himself.”
Michael explained his history with Curtis and described his most recent encounter. He finished up with, “One more of Daniel’s henchmen taken down.
“Linda, tomorrow, I’ll research on the other front.” She nodded in understanding that he planned to use the book. “Well, I have a few things I need to review for a case I’m working on, so I’m going to my room, which,” as he looked at both, “I’m very thankful for.
“Also, the Deputy Fire Marshal called my office today to let know me I can enter my apartment.”
“What does that mean?” Jacob asked.
“It means I can sort through the mess, salvaging what I can, and put it into my storage unit. The rest goes to the dump.”
Completely unrelated, Jacob said, “Hey,” as if he was revealing the best idea he’d ever had, “we could have waffles with peanut butter and maple syrup tomorrow morning.”
“I’m in. Linda, do you have the ingredients we need?”
“I have peanut butter and syrup, but the ingredients will come from a bag of premixed pancake mix. They won’t be up to Carrie’s standards.”
“They’ll still be great, so it’s a go,” Michael said. “I’m making waffles.”
Jacob noticed his mom pressing her lips tight and give a slight head shake. “You’ll love them, mom.”
“I’ll try a bite of yours first.”
They discussed schedules, decided on a time for breakfast, then went their separate ways for the night.
65
Fueled by the peanut butter and waffle breakfast—which Linda tolerated—Michael worked with Trevor on case preparation. He met with his two partners and told them he was taking a week off to deal with his apartment and his new house. They agreed he needed time off. They also agreed, with Michael bringing in a remodel company to strip the wood paneling from his office and paint the walls while he was out.
He met with Trevor to discuss his time off and the current caseload.
“I have plenty to keep me busy, Michael.”
“And I have confidence you’ll do it well, but I’ll be available by phone if something comes up.” He mentioned his office remodel. “Trevor, I’d like you to keep track and answer the remodeler’s questions while I’m gone. If it’s something you’re not sure about, call me.” He gave Trevor the list of changes he had worked out with the remodel company’s owner and discussed what he was having done.
“I appreciate your trust, Mr. Mays.”
Okay… I give up. He can call me whatever he’s comfortable calling me.
He gave Trevor Linda’s address. “Call the alarm company you recommended. I want to meet and discuss an alarm system installation at this address.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Michael spent the rest of the day contacting a moving company, renting a larger storage unit, updating Carrie Hindler, and buying the pepper spray cannisters.
That evening after dinner, he gave Linda a pepper spray cannister. He described what he had observed when he used it on Curtis, then excused himself. “I have research to do. Do I need to take Jacob tomorrow?”
“Nope, I’ve got it covered.”
“Great. Good night, guys.”
“Be careful, Michael.” Linda said, causing Jacob’s head to flinch while his eyes narrowed. Michael looked at him, smiled, winked, and shrugged his shoulders.
Michael changed clothes, put on a ball cap, and took two ibuprofen. He assured his period-correct money was in the book, attached a new pepper spray cannister to the backpack’s strap, then put on the backpack.
He opened the book to page 60, pulled out his phone, and found the picture he’d chosen.
Familiar warm wind, and he was standing behind the tree watching Daniel drive out of sight. He crossed the street and made his way to Daniel’s house, then in through the unlocked front door. Michael smiled at the realization his body was loosening. He still hurts, but at least he’s moving better.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in this house?” said a massive man as he extracted himself from a leather recliner and stood defiantly in front of Michael. He had huge ears, wore a wife-beater t-shirt, and jeans that needed to be at least 15 inches bigger in the waist if he hoped to pull them up to where they belonged.
Has himself convinced that he still wears the same size pants he wore in high school.
“Who are you?” Michael said, as he looked up at big-eared wife-beater. “Daniel didn’t mention you. I’m here to wait for him and Bob.”
Big-eared wife-beater said, “Don’t give me that. I lived 25 years behind bars with world-class liars. I can smell a lie a mile away.”
Big-eared wife-beater lunged. Michael’s only hope was to use the massive man’s weight against him.
He spun sideways, while moving backwards to avoid big-eared wife-beaters right arm.
With one hand, Michael grabbed one of the wife-beater shirt’s shoulder loops.
Using the other hand, he grabbed the seat of big-eared wife-beater’s pants.
He continued to turn with all his might.
Big-eared wife-beater rammed headfirst into a credenza.
The impact knocked pictures from the wall and caused the television to fall on big-ears’ head and shoulders.
He had knocked him out, but Michael wondered., For how long?
Down the bedroom hallway, he discovered Daniel’s door on the second try. He pulled drawers out of the chest-of-drawers, dumping each one.
Nothing.
There was nothing under the bed or mattress. Next, he opened Daniel’s closet door and pulled everything from the shelving above the clothing.
Nothing.
Michael stood back and looked around, then turned back to the closet. Something visible through a small gap between two hanging shirts caught his eye. He pulled out clothing, throwing them behind him.
He stopped—frozen—overwhelmed by what he saw.
Daniel had mounted a large corkboard on the rear wall of the closet.
Polaroid pictures, attached by thumbtacks, covered the cork board.
Pictures of the five victims—lots of pictures.
Taken while Daniel was stalking them, and after he had killed them.
What a sick ego this guy has.
The ones that caught Michael’s eye were selfies.
Polaroid selfies.
Daniel’s face was predominant in the selfie. In each selfie, the dead woman lay on the ground behind him. Michael grabbed those five photos. Plus, he chose one photo of each victim lying on the ground.
This should put him back in prison.
Each photo had a date written on the back, the most recent ‘8-8-87.’ Less than a month ago.
The murder that put him in prison.
As he looked at his mother’s collection, something struck him as odd. Someone had taken two pictures of a woman and a man. He grabbed them but did not have time for scrutiny.
I’ll check them when I get home.
He removed his backpack and placed the photos in the front pocket. He finished zipping the pocket, and heard what sounded like a raging, charging bull.
He spun around as big-eared wife-beater hit him full force, causing his backpack to fly from his hands.
The big-eared mammoth landed on him, crushing the wind out of him.
Big-eared wife-beater wrapped his huge hands around Michael’s neck and spit out a deluge of obscenities, causing his spittle to shower Michael’s face.
In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of his backpack on his right.
No way to reach it… is this where I die? 1987?
He was twisting his head while trying to pull big-ear’s hands from his throat.
There was no way he could overcome the big man.
He sensed his level of consciousness fading.
Mustering his remaining strength, he made one final attempt to twist out of his hold.
It didn’t work.
But while attempting, he saw the tactical baton.
The impact knocked it from the backpack’s side pocket.
It was lying on the floor to his left.
He let go of big-eared wife-beater’s arm.
His reach was less than an inch short of the baton.
He rocked repeatedly until he had moved enough to get his middle fingertip on it, dragging it back a fraction of the inch
With all the strength he could muster, he rocked again.
Two fingertips touched the baton and dragged it back to the point he did not have to rock again.
With his fingertips, he swept the baton’s handle toward him until he could grip it.
Flicking it open, he hit big-eared wife-beater on the side of his head, over and over again.
Not powerful hits, but enough to cause serious pain.
Big-eared wife-beater yelled and put his hands up to cover the side of his head.
That caused him to get off balance enough for Michael to roll into big-eared wife-beater’s off-balance side, which toppled him off Michael.
Big-eared wife-beater was in pain and dazed but managed to stand.
Michael switched the baton to his right hand.
Drawing back and using all his remaining strength, he gave three whacks to big-ears’ head.
Forehand, backhand, then forehand again.
The behemoth fell hard.
Michael would never know if big-eared wife-beater gets back up.
He grabbed his backpack and hat and kept the baton at the ready in case he ran into Bob, the weasel. The irony of the situation being reversed struck Michael.
As he turned to leave the bedroom, he saw on Daniel’s dresser a large spring-type binder clip clamped onto a thick stack of credit card receipts. He shuffled through the receipts and found three dated 8-8-87. As he bent over to pick up one of the tossed shirts, he stopped, stood, and removed the 8-8-87 selfie from his backpack. He surveyed the pile and chose one to hold up, side-by-side with the photograph. It was the same shirt.
Daniel’s hairbrush was on the dresser. Michael removed hair from the brush bristles and put the hairs in the shirt’s pocket along with the credit card receipts. He stuffed the shirt into his backpack’s center compartment, and the 8-8-87 selfie back into the backpack’s front pocket.
At the front door, he stuck his head out and checked the sidewalks.
“I’ve got a great mom, a new best friend—”
Michael stopped buttering his bread and turned to look at Jacob. “MJ?”
“Yep. And I’m happy you’re staying with us.”
“I appreciate that, Jacob. I’m fortunate to have you and your mother as friends.”
Linda said, “We feel the same, Michael.”
“I’ve told Jacob about the man who’s responsible for the attempt on his father’s life. I told him the man won’t stop until he gets the book.”
Michael frowned as he considered what she said.
“Michael, Jacob deserves to know what’s going on. He needs to be diligent at being aware of his surroundings, no matter where he is or what he’s doing.”
Michael took a bite of bread and considered what Linda said. “I agree with your mom, Jacob. You’re smart and I trust her judgement. You need to have that awareness.
Michael removed the cap from the salad dressing and poured. “I can’t stress enough how dangerous this man is,” he said as he screwed the salad dressing cap onto the bottle. “I just spoke with him.”
Linda said, “Where? When?”
Michael set the bottle on the table and looked up. “Right after I sent you the text. I called him and told him he’s well known. The DA’s office knows what he’s doing, as does the Oregon Department of Corrections. I told him Billy has confessed that he attempted to kill Russell—”
Linda jumped in, eyebrows lowered, and hands spread shoulder high. “How do you know that, Michael?”
Michael’s jaw went slack. His head jerked back, and he closed his eyes. “Oh, Linda… I apologize.” He looked at her. “Carrie told me just before Daniel attacked me. I assumed she told you.”
“No, she didn’t.”
“My injuries scattered my mind, but I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have,” she said with a heavy sigh. “But I can understand how sidetracked your mind was. Apology accepted.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not sure calling him was a good idea. Aren’t you concerned that what you told him will ramp up his efforts?”
“Yes, but I believe you’re correct. The crash into your house injured him and he’s recuperating. He will panic and make a mistake—”
“Or do something stupid,” Linda said, “something catastrophic, which will hurt more people.”
“He won’t risk doing something catastrophic. The grenade into my apartment is the most collateral damage he’s willing to risk. He doesn’t want to damage the book.”
“You’re right,” Linda conceded.
Michael looked at Jacob. “What do you think?
“Well, Christmas is coming up, and I always look forward to watching Christmas movies with mom.”
Linda and Michael looked at each other’s confusion, and both said, “Okay—”
“We should ‘Home Alone’ him.”
Michael wiped his mouth and fingers on his napkin. “What do you mean, Jacob?”
“How the Home Alone kid thought of all the ways the robbers could get in the house, then set traps for them.”
Michael looked at him, then at Linda, who was smiling, then back at Jacob. “Jacob, you’re on to something.”
64
After dinner, Jacob and Michael helped Linda clean up and put away leftovers.
When finished, Linda suggested they move to the living room. They sat and Linda looked at Michael. “Now, what do you sense Jacob is on to?”
Michael looked at Jacob. “I loved your suggestion and how you illustrated it by using the Home Alone movie.”
Jacob beamed while brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Thanks, Michael.”
“But we need to approach it from a broader perspective.”
“How’s that?” Linda looked over at Jacob.
“I liked the movie. The difference is that Kevin, that was the kid’s name, right, Jacob?”
“Yes.”
“The movie script limited Kevin’s world to his family’s house and yard.”
Jacob sat up and leaned forward. “But he’d go out to buy groceries and do other stuff.”
“Yes, but it was during the day. He knew the burglars only came after it was dark, right?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“But our world is much bigger. You go to school during the week, and sometimes on the weekends spend time at other people’s houses. Your mom goes to work and runs errands. I go to work and… spend time in the hospital.” Linda and Jacob shook their heads in agreement and laughed.
“So, we must brainstorm how Daniel and his henchman—the bad guy equivalents of the Home Alone burglars—might attack us?”
Michael hesitated. Neither Linda nor Jacob responded. “He’ll attack our heart.”
Linda pondered that. The understanding and realization crept up on her and hit her hard. “No.” She turned her face toward Jacob. Wide eyed and lips parted, she gasped and looked back to Michael. “What do we do?”
Jacob watched his mom look at Michael for an answer.
Michael leaned forward, looked at Jacob, and gave a sigh. “Jacob, he will most likely come after you. If he kidnapped you, it would break our hearts.” Michael glanced at Linda. “If Daniel Wygal doesn’t know who you and your mom are yet, eventually he will. It feels awkward to tell you this, Jacob, but you need to know so you can be on guard.”
Jacob said, “I don’t want it to surprise me; I’d rather know what might happen.” Linda leaned over and hugged him.
They brainstormed how to best protect Jacob. They divided duties:
Michael and Linda will share the responsibility of taking Jacob to and from school.
Linda will meet with the school principal and Jacob’s teachers to discuss the danger Jacob may face.
Michael will meet with Matt, Carrie, and MJ to alert them.
There was a lull until Michael turned and looked at Linda. “Tomorrow, I’ll contact the security alarm company I used. I’ll have them install a system here. Is that okay, Linda?”
“Yes, ask if they can bill me.”
“No, it’s on me; consider it my rent payment.”
“Thank you.” Linda nodded her head once as she smiled.
Jacob said, “Why don’t you guys get guns?”
Michael looked at Linda and detected a slight shaking of her head. “Jacob, the State requires a lengthy process to get a gun; time we don’t have. And they require a class to get a concealed weapon permit.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“But I have something else we can use. I’ll be right back.” He attempted to run up the stairs, but his body protested. He returned with his backpack and removed the pepper spray canister.
“I used this the other day on one of Daniel’s henchmen and need to replace it. But I bought two. This one new,” Michael said, as he handed it to Jacob. “It’s for you to carry.”
“All right. Thanks.” Jacob turned it in his hands, looking it over.
Michael showed him how to use it. “Tomorrow, I’ll get more, so we each have one, plus a spare. Simple to use, and effective.”
Michael sensed Linda wondering why he’d used the pepper spray. “Linda, let’s discuss that later.”
“Let’s discuss it now. We agreed to keep Jacob informed.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m not accustomed to talking about these things—”
“In front of a 12-year-old?” Jacob finished Michael’s sentence.
“Yes, but I forget that you’re not just any 12-year-old.”
“That’s because I’m being raised by a hard-working single mom.”
Linda leaned her head forward, while her forehead met the heel of her hand. “Jacob.”
Michael laughed. “Linda, do you expect less?”
Linda smiled and looked at Jacob, who was grinning. “No, he can’t help himself.”
Michael explained his history with Curtis and described his most recent encounter. He finished up with, “One more of Daniel’s henchmen taken down.
“Linda, tomorrow, I’ll research on the other front.” She nodded in understanding that he planned to use the book. “Well, I have a few things I need to review for a case I’m working on, so I’m going to my room, which,” as he looked at both, “I’m very thankful for.
“Also, the Deputy Fire Marshal called my office today to let know me I can enter my apartment.”
“What does that mean?” Jacob asked.
“It means I can sort through the mess, salvaging what I can, and put it into my storage unit. The rest goes to the dump.”
Completely unrelated, Jacob said, “Hey,” as if he was revealing the best idea he’d ever had, “we could have waffles with peanut butter and maple syrup tomorrow morning.”
“I’m in. Linda, do you have the ingredients we need?”
“I have peanut butter and syrup, but the ingredients will come from a bag of premixed pancake mix. They won’t be up to Carrie’s standards.”
“They’ll still be great, so it’s a go,” Michael said. “I’m making waffles.”
Jacob noticed his mom pressing her lips tight and give a slight head shake. “You’ll love them, mom.”
“I’ll try a bite of yours first.”
They discussed schedules, decided on a time for breakfast, then went their separate ways for the night.
65
Fueled by the peanut butter and waffle breakfast—which Linda tolerated—Michael worked with Trevor on case preparation. He met with his two partners and told them he was taking a week off to deal with his apartment and his new house. They agreed he needed time off. They also agreed, with Michael bringing in a remodel company to strip the wood paneling from his office and paint the walls while he was out.
He met with Trevor to discuss his time off and the current caseload.
“I have plenty to keep me busy, Michael.”
“And I have confidence you’ll do it well, but I’ll be available by phone if something comes up.” He mentioned his office remodel. “Trevor, I’d like you to keep track and answer the remodeler’s questions while I’m gone. If it’s something you’re not sure about, call me.” He gave Trevor the list of changes he had worked out with the remodel company’s owner and discussed what he was having done.
“I appreciate your trust, Mr. Mays.”
Okay… I give up. He can call me whatever he’s comfortable calling me.
He gave Trevor Linda’s address. “Call the alarm company you recommended. I want to meet and discuss an alarm system installation at this address.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Michael spent the rest of the day contacting a moving company, renting a larger storage unit, updating Carrie Hindler, and buying the pepper spray cannisters.
That evening after dinner, he gave Linda a pepper spray cannister. He described what he had observed when he used it on Curtis, then excused himself. “I have research to do. Do I need to take Jacob tomorrow?”
“Nope, I’ve got it covered.”
“Great. Good night, guys.”
“Be careful, Michael.” Linda said, causing Jacob’s head to flinch while his eyes narrowed. Michael looked at him, smiled, winked, and shrugged his shoulders.
Michael changed clothes, put on a ball cap, and took two ibuprofen. He assured his period-correct money was in the book, attached a new pepper spray cannister to the backpack’s strap, then put on the backpack.
He opened the book to page 60, pulled out his phone, and found the picture he’d chosen.
Familiar warm wind, and he was standing behind the tree watching Daniel drive out of sight. He crossed the street and made his way to Daniel’s house, then in through the unlocked front door. Michael smiled at the realization his body was loosening. He still hurts, but at least he’s moving better.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in this house?” said a massive man as he extracted himself from a leather recliner and stood defiantly in front of Michael. He had huge ears, wore a wife-beater t-shirt, and jeans that needed to be at least 15 inches bigger in the waist if he hoped to pull them up to where they belonged.
Has himself convinced that he still wears the same size pants he wore in high school.
“Who are you?” Michael said, as he looked up at big-eared wife-beater. “Daniel didn’t mention you. I’m here to wait for him and Bob.”
Big-eared wife-beater said, “Don’t give me that. I lived 25 years behind bars with world-class liars. I can smell a lie a mile away.”
Big-eared wife-beater lunged. Michael’s only hope was to use the massive man’s weight against him.
He spun sideways, while moving backwards to avoid big-eared wife-beaters right arm.
With one hand, Michael grabbed one of the wife-beater shirt’s shoulder loops.
Using the other hand, he grabbed the seat of big-eared wife-beater’s pants.
He continued to turn with all his might.
Big-eared wife-beater rammed headfirst into a credenza.
The impact knocked pictures from the wall and caused the television to fall on big-ears’ head and shoulders.
He had knocked him out, but Michael wondered., For how long?
Down the bedroom hallway, he discovered Daniel’s door on the second try. He pulled drawers out of the chest-of-drawers, dumping each one.
Nothing.
There was nothing under the bed or mattress. Next, he opened Daniel’s closet door and pulled everything from the shelving above the clothing.
Nothing.
Michael stood back and looked around, then turned back to the closet. Something visible through a small gap between two hanging shirts caught his eye. He pulled out clothing, throwing them behind him.
He stopped—frozen—overwhelmed by what he saw.
Daniel had mounted a large corkboard on the rear wall of the closet.
Polaroid pictures, attached by thumbtacks, covered the cork board.
Pictures of the five victims—lots of pictures.
Taken while Daniel was stalking them, and after he had killed them.
What a sick ego this guy has.
The ones that caught Michael’s eye were selfies.
Polaroid selfies.
Daniel’s face was predominant in the selfie. In each selfie, the dead woman lay on the ground behind him. Michael grabbed those five photos. Plus, he chose one photo of each victim lying on the ground.
This should put him back in prison.
Each photo had a date written on the back, the most recent ‘8-8-87.’ Less than a month ago.
The murder that put him in prison.
As he looked at his mother’s collection, something struck him as odd. Someone had taken two pictures of a woman and a man. He grabbed them but did not have time for scrutiny.
I’ll check them when I get home.
He removed his backpack and placed the photos in the front pocket. He finished zipping the pocket, and heard what sounded like a raging, charging bull.
He spun around as big-eared wife-beater hit him full force, causing his backpack to fly from his hands.
The big-eared mammoth landed on him, crushing the wind out of him.
Big-eared wife-beater wrapped his huge hands around Michael’s neck and spit out a deluge of obscenities, causing his spittle to shower Michael’s face.
In his peripheral vision, he caught sight of his backpack on his right.
No way to reach it… is this where I die? 1987?
He was twisting his head while trying to pull big-ear’s hands from his throat.
There was no way he could overcome the big man.
He sensed his level of consciousness fading.
Mustering his remaining strength, he made one final attempt to twist out of his hold.
It didn’t work.
But while attempting, he saw the tactical baton.
The impact knocked it from the backpack’s side pocket.
It was lying on the floor to his left.
He let go of big-eared wife-beater’s arm.
His reach was less than an inch short of the baton.
He rocked repeatedly until he had moved enough to get his middle fingertip on it, dragging it back a fraction of the inch
With all the strength he could muster, he rocked again.
Two fingertips touched the baton and dragged it back to the point he did not have to rock again.
With his fingertips, he swept the baton’s handle toward him until he could grip it.
Flicking it open, he hit big-eared wife-beater on the side of his head, over and over again.
Not powerful hits, but enough to cause serious pain.
Big-eared wife-beater yelled and put his hands up to cover the side of his head.
That caused him to get off balance enough for Michael to roll into big-eared wife-beater’s off-balance side, which toppled him off Michael.
Big-eared wife-beater was in pain and dazed but managed to stand.
Michael switched the baton to his right hand.
Drawing back and using all his remaining strength, he gave three whacks to big-ears’ head.
Forehand, backhand, then forehand again.
The behemoth fell hard.
Michael would never know if big-eared wife-beater gets back up.
He grabbed his backpack and hat and kept the baton at the ready in case he ran into Bob, the weasel. The irony of the situation being reversed struck Michael.
As he turned to leave the bedroom, he saw on Daniel’s dresser a large spring-type binder clip clamped onto a thick stack of credit card receipts. He shuffled through the receipts and found three dated 8-8-87. As he bent over to pick up one of the tossed shirts, he stopped, stood, and removed the 8-8-87 selfie from his backpack. He surveyed the pile and chose one to hold up, side-by-side with the photograph. It was the same shirt.
Daniel’s hairbrush was on the dresser. Michael removed hair from the brush bristles and put the hairs in the shirt’s pocket along with the credit card receipts. He stuffed the shirt into his backpack’s center compartment, and the 8-8-87 selfie back into the backpack’s front pocket.
At the front door, he stuck his head out and checked the sidewalks.
