Chapter Seventeen

November 26th, 1947

Stuart, FL

Zachery Rosenberg took a small sip of his coffee and looked around at what there was of scenery. It was a hell of a thing to have to track a rabid dog on the day before Thanksgiving, but he didn't make the timetable. They were going to have to branch out, to cover different regions and that made him nervous as well. There was a part of him that said that they ought to warn John and Mae, but why wreck their holiday if they didn't have to? Besides which, it was unlikely that Albert Dexter would make tracks for Jupiter…or so he hoped.

He and the lovely Miss Nolan were going to cover Dexter's rat's nest apartment, even though they were absolutely certain that he wouldn't be returning there anytime soon. Mike was going to watch over the family home in Indiantown. Robert was going to be hiding out in Jupiter, because he thought that there was a good chance that Dexter would seek out Mae Collins and he wasn't going to leave her out in the open, unguarded and unaware of the danger that might be headed her way.

Zach had brought along a thermos of hot coffee for himself and one of hot tea for Miss Nolan. He'd found some decent store-bought sugar cookies as well, so they were well stocked for their stakeout…well, aside from something to serve as a lavatory. He wasn't sure what they would do when that need arose. It wouldn't be so difficult for him, but what about Miss Nolan?

"What sort of a person were you when you were younger?" Jill asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had taken hold of the interior of his car for the past half-hour. "I'm willing to bet that you were kind and studious, that you were serious and thoughtful, and I'm willing to bet that people like me made life horrible for you."

He turned to look at her for several moments without speaking, which ought to have unnerved her, but surprisingly she took comfort in the gentleness that she saw in his eyes. "I like to think that I was kind and thoughtful, and yes, I was serious and studious. I was one of the "nerdy" kids who never had a date, much less a girlfriend. I don't remember anyone making my life horrible or unbearable. Some were malicious, some were considerate, and a large amount of them were indifferent. I know that you place the blame for what was done to you on your shoulders, but you did not do anything to deserve what was done to you, Miss Nolan, so, please, try to place the blame solely where it belongs and learn to forgive yourself."

She did not know what to say. She could imagine him when he was younger, and she knew how she would have treated him. It would have been wrong, it would have hurt him and made her friends laugh, because they'd been just as cruel and thoughtless as she had been. Would it truly be acceptable for her to forgive herself? Goodness knows that she wasn't the vicious bitch that she'd been as a teenager, but did that mean that what had happened to her was completely unacceptable? She'd like to believe that it was, but she just couldn't convince herself that she hadn't caused what had happened to her.

"Once Albert Dexter is caught, once he cannot hurt anyone else, I believe that I will be able to forgive myself. The scars on the outside have healed, they have faded, and I look forward to the day when the damage that he did to my mind, my heart and my soul are able to heal as well. Do you think that day will ever come, Detective?"

Zach took a drink of his coffee and stared out of the windshield of the car. "Yes, it will, Miss Nolan. You are a strong woman, you are much stronger than he is, and though he hurt those parts of you, though he broke you down and left you shattered, you have put yourself back together, you are determined to live your life, even if you do so in fear, and he can never take that away from you."

John's POV

Jupiter, FL

Land sakes, I'd never seen Tuttle's so busy and it was all on account of the fact that tomorrow was Thanksgiving. People were bustling around, picking out a turkey and all of the stuff to make the side dishes and desserts. I just liked to stay out of the way, to restock the shelves as needed and not make any trouble for anyone, especially myself.

My Mae was going to make us a feast tomorrow. She'd asked Mrs. Overmire if she could make a meal in her house, which had irritated me somewhat to begin with, but then I'd seen the look that was in her eyes and I knew that I'd better keep my big mouth shut. She reminded me, on the way home, that Mrs. Overmire had spent many a lonely Thanksgivings with no loved ones about, so in the end I caved, and that was when she sprung it on me that she'd also invited my elderly, and most cantankerous admirer, Mrs. Lewis, to dine with us as well.

I'd been hoping for a day with just the two of us, but we didn't have any way to cook a turkey, or cornbread dressing, not to mention pumpkin or pecan pie. It was that knowledge that made me begrudgingly accept that we would be spending our day with Mrs. Overmire and Mrs. Lewis, but that didn't mean that I had to like it.

Mae had gathered up all of the supplies that she would need, and after she'd paid for them, she had me stow them in the storeroom. It was going to be a heavy load to tote, but I reckoned that it would be worth it once I sat down to a feast that was unlike anything I'd ever had before. My Mae was one heck of a cook and I was looking forward to enjoying the sort of food that I'd only ever heard of from other people. My mother hadn't liked to cook, so most of our food had come out of cans and boxes and such.

I had a bad feeling that Mae was planning on inviting those detectives as well, since they were putting so much work into her case and it was a holiday. I reckon that it was a mite bit selfish of me, but I couldn't help but think that the more people that came to the meal, the less food there'd be for me. I suppose that was the wrong attitude for a man to have on Thanksgiving, but I'd never had one before, therefore I was bound to be a little selfish, wanting most everything for myself, in spite of the fact that I was supposed to be thankful.

I was working on a display of canned corn when I noticed a fellow wandering 'round the front of the store, giving Mae the eye. I knew that there going to be men who found her attractive, mainly because she was downright beautiful, but there was something about the way that this man was watching her that put me on alert. Now that I thought about it, he'd been in the store for a while. Chances were good that he was just some random creep, but I reckoned that I better go and see who he was and what he wanted.

Land sakes, he was a creepy little fellow. He had a pair of eyes on him that would make anyone uncomfortable and I didn't like the fact that he had them trained on Mae, tracking her every movement. I started to head his way, but a crowd had gathered 'round me, some to get to the corn, others who wanted to jabber and finally, the few oldsters that wanted to gripe about one thing or another. I tried to keep an eye on him, but one moment he was there, the next, he was gone.

Robert Haskell was drinking coffee to keep from nodding off, and now that he'd had over half a thermos worth of the beverage he needed to pee. He was staked out in a place that was on the outskirts of town, in a copse of trees that undoubtedly witnessed a good deal of youthful hanky-panky after the sun had gone down. It was a pretty place, the sort that he and Alva might have visited at one time, but those days were in the past.

Alva had endured so much from him, his obsessiveness with his cases, his inability to understand emotions from time to time, his disregard for any opinion that wasn't his own. She'd known that he loved her, in his own way, but that hadn't been enough to see them through their rockiest times. Alva hadn't simply wanted love, she'd wanted marriage and a family as well, and Robert hadn't been able to give her those things, thus she'd moved on. She'd been out of his life for a decade and the last he'd heard; she was happily married with three children.

It was something that he regretted, one of those choices that always seemed so foolish after he'd made it, but there was no going back, there was no fixing it. All that he could do was move on with his life and solve every case that came his way. That was what he was doing in Jupiter. He was going to catch this maniac; he was going to bring him to justice for the murders of fifteen innocent people. Maybe an accomplishment like that would give him some measure of peace and he'd finally be able to sleep at night.

It was nice, working with Brady and Rosenberg. They were so different, yet, at the same time, they had one thing in common with him. There was nothing more important than finding justice for those who'd been wronged. He told himself that was why Mae was so important, because he could finally witness justice in motion, he could finally witness it free some part of a victim's heart and soul. That was a big part of why she was so essential, but he had to admit, if only to himself, what she represented to him.

Having Mae around was like having Alva all over again. She didn't look anything like her, but their personalities were very similar, and he'd find himself watching Mae when he was certain that no one would notice. She was a lovely woman, and he found that he was developing a preference for dark hair and eyes, as opposed to strawberry blonde and hazel. He knew that he oughtn't allow his emotions to enter in to this situation, he had no business forming an attachment to Mae, because she could never and would never be his, but he often times struggled to differentiate between what was real and what would never be.

He started to nod off again and then he remembered that he needed to relieve himself. There was a tree right beside his car that would work nicely. He stepped out of his car, unzipped and let loose a long, satisfied sigh as he watered the base of the tree. Perhaps he would take a little nap, once he was back in his car. It was the middle of the day and it was unlikely that anything would happen, and he would be much better off if he caught a few winks, after not sleeping more than a couple of hours the night before.

He laid down in the back seat and pulled his hat down over his eyes. The wind had picked up a little outside, it was a soothing sound, one that almost mesmerized him, one that had soon lulled him into a deep and dreamless sleep, completely unaware of the nightmare that waited just a little way away for Mae Wallace.

Mae's POV

I didn't recognize him to begin with. He was just the last man in my line, patiently waiting for me to ring up his purchases, take his money and wish him a happy thanksgiving. It was something that I'd done all day, and I'd done so with genuine happiness. I knew that I would be exhausted after tomorrow, I'd probably feel like I was going to collapse, but it was going to be so nice to get everyone together and feel like a family again, even if none of us were related.

I'd been running through my schedule, and what all I meant to make, and my line gradually dwindled down further and further. Every now and then I would meet his eyes and a creepy feeling would skitter across the back of my neck, but then he'd smile at me in a very friendly way and I would shake that uneasiness away. Yes, his eyes were nearly colorless and there didn't seem to be any life in them, but he couldn't help that, could he?

Everyone else who'd come through my line had left with a grocery cart filled with paper bags, but he wasn't going to be weighed down, because he wasn't purchasing anything. For one moment I thought that he was playing a joke, having a little fun, but then I saw that while there was a smile on his face, it didn't have anything to do with a joke.

"Hiya, Mae Collins," he said softly, leaning close and making me gag with the odor of his breath, which smelled like sardines. "Come on now, don't be shy, surely you've got a hello for a friend, haven't you?"

My breath caught in my throat, it stayed there for several moments before I could breathe properly again. He'd tried to style his dirty blond hair in a pompadour, but it was just a greasy pile of tangles. It was obvious that he hadn't bathed in a couple of days and his fingernails were a ragged, grimy mess. His face was pockmarked, and there were a couple of new pimples forming, one on his forehead, one on his chin. His eyes were set close together, too close, and they were very light blue, almost colorless.

"Fine, be a bitch. After all, you were one before, weren't you? You ruined everything for me. It was supposed to be perfect, but you ruined it, you fucking cunt."

Well, he was just as ugly and hateful, not to mention evil, with his makeup off as he'd been with it on. I couldn't believe that he'd found me, I couldn't believe that I was standing there looking into the eyes of the son of a bitch that had slaughtered my family when only moments before I'd been thinking about Thanksgiving. I suppose he was like a cockroach. You could probably stomp on him again and again and he would still come back.

"Say something, you ugly bitch. I didn't come here to hear my own voice. You owe it to me to say something."

I didn't think that I could croak out any words, not even if I'd wanted to. I was petrified, I was frozen in place and there were so many things that I ought to have been doing, but I couldn't do a damned thing. It was like it was just the two of us in the store and something had happened to me to make it where I couldn't move, couldn't speak, all that I could do was stare at him and breathe.

"All right, you stupid cooze, I'm giving you two choices. You have to choose between your life or the life of five others. Will it be Mae Collins, or will it be Eugene, Selma, Annie, Evie and Howie Tuttle? Ticktock, ticktock, you fucking bitch, which one will it be? If it's you, will you still be tight, after that big dummy's been screwing you? If it's the others, will they sound like pigs on slaughter day when I put the knife to them?"

I felt my heart sink, he had that knife that I'd seen before under his jacket, he showed it to me, and it scared the hell out of me. "Come on, Mae…this is your moment, girl. You owe me a hell of a lot, but I'll take those others as an exchange. All you got to do is say the word, and you never need to see me again."

I hated everything about him, especially his eyes and that smile on his face. I did not know what possessed me to do it, but I always kept a pencil with me and while he was staring at me, while he was smiling, I brought my right hand out from behind the counter and buried my pencil in the center of his hand.

"John!" I screamed, louder than I'd screamed in my entire life. "Help me, John!"

The scrawny asshole in front of me let loose a shriek as that pencil pierced his hand, one that paired with mine, hell, it almost topped mine. For a minute he cradled his injured hand, glaring at me, then hissed through gritted teeth, "What's your choice, bitch?"

"You can go to hell, you sawed-off bastard," I bit back, smiling as I saw John coming at a run.

The guy who liked to pretend to be a clown called Flick took off running and he was much faster than I thought he would be. He pulled the pencil out of his hand and threw it aside, then ran out the front door. He was followed closely by John, but he quickly gained a good distance on him. I saw Detective Haskell's car close to the edge of town, but he was asleep in the backseat and we couldn't wake him until our quarry was out of sight.

So, I had a choice to make, huh? Well, it hadn't been one of the choices, but if anyone died, I reckoned that it ought to be him.