The next morning, Danielle woke early at 5AM. She couldn't tell if Michael was awake or not. As quietly as she could, she got out of bed and dressed. She was feeling agitated and couldn't sleep. She wanted to speak to Dr Stark and couldn't wait for her meeting with Stacey today. It was clear as much as she hated to admit and face it, Adam wasn't going to stop messaging her if she didn't.
She pressed the call button and a few seconds later heard Mel's soft whisper. Michael must indeed have his eyes closed then.
"Morning, are you ok?"
"Hi Mel," she whispered back. "I'm fine thanks, you? Where's Jeff? I thought you were tutoring him?"
Mel didn't answer, just opened the door then closed it again as quietly as she could. She then took Danielle's arm and guided her towards the canteen.
"I thought breakfast doesn't start until 7AM?"
"It doesn't," Mel agreed. "But I thought you'd like some tea or something and I'll stay for a chat if you like."
"Thanks. I'd like that."
They entered the canteen. Mel got her a hot chocolate with cream and marsh mallows, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Dr Stark told you I love these?"
"Hmm, maybe, perhaps."
"So, Mel," she lowered her voice once they were sitting at one of the tables, even though they were currently alone bar the staff working in the kitchen on breakfast preparations. "Where is Jeff? Can I ask?"
Mel hesitated for a moment, then too lowered her voice. "Jeff unfortunately failed his probation. While I was tutoring him, he made… a mistake."
She understood the cryptic words. Jeff had fucked up. But what had he done? Did she want to know?
"It wasn't huge," Mel said as though reading her mind. "But it could've been, and he got two warnings. I just don't think this job was for him."
Danielle tried not to feel a stab of jealousy at this. What she wouldn't give to do this job, just as she'd said to Jack. To have all that equipment and keep people safe. Something of this must've shown on her face because Mel said softly, "you're jealous, aren't you?"
"I… no!" she began, but Mel squeezed her arm and she stopped and sighed. "Yeah ok," she admitted. "Maybe just a little. Purely because I can't do this job. I've always wanted to be a police officer, taxi driver, all the things I can't do. I think I want them so badly because they're physically impossible and unreachable for me."
"I understand," she didn't find it patronising, it sounded compassionate, genuine.
"Thanks," she said softly. "I do really appreciate that."
"Then you're welcome," Mel touched her hand again, before moving so she felt her equipment. The handcuffs, gun holster, radio, baton, keys, alarm and so on. Then, she was mortified but couldn't help laughing as it was now Mel's turn to lower her head, so Danielle felt her ears. They stuck out. Mel began to laugh. "Ah, tickles! Yes, I know my ears stick out!"
"Oh God! Did a little bird named Jack tell you he'd shown me his? Equipment I mean? Well," she felt herself turning red. "And his ears!"
Mel laughed and hugged her, and Danielle absurdly felt tears in her eyes at the affectionate contact and hugged her back. "Maybe," Mel said again, but she was laughing. "Perhaps."
Danielle looked at her phone. It was almost 7. Mel retook her seat opposite. "Hungry?" the guard asked, clearly guessing why she'd been looking at it.
"Yes," she admitted. "Starving, if I'm honest."
She looked up then at the sound of whistling. It always made her ears prick up. Mel chuckled. She must've told her she liked whistling once.
"Jordan!" she called out automatically. "Your whistle gave you away again! So much for "I'll never be able to whistle again!" She made quotes in the air.
"Well, I appear to have found my whistle for you," came Jordan's soft, Australian accent. "I'm always whistling when I see you."
"Oh, shut up! You're such a charmer!"
"You don't know the worst of it!" Mel quipped.
"Hey come on M," Jordan said. "Don't go giving away all my secrets and dark tricks now! I'll have nothing to surprise Danielle with if you do!"
"That's a good thing, right?" Mel and Danielle said in unison, laughing.
"Fine," Jordan sighed and rattled his keys. "Well as I can see you're already in capable hands, I'll leave you both to it. I and Mel here are just starting our early shifts. I'll see you both later. As he walked off, Jordan began to whistle again. Much to her delight.
Michael entered the dining room a few minutes later, crossing to sit next to Danielle. Mell was still sitting opposite.
"Morning Michael," the guard said. "Just keeping her Company for you."
She reached to her left and touched his arm. The killer moved his cuffed hand, so it was holding hers.
"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly. "So, I got up and spoke to Mel here."
"Plus encountered whistling Jordan," Mel laughed. "Looking at my protective equipment and of course, my ears!"
Michael squeezed her hand and Mel was sure he'd smiled slightly at this.
"I'm meeting Stacey today," Danielle said quietly to the pair of them. "I need to change my Apple ID. It's clear Adam isn't going to stop messaging me unless I do."
"Are you sure?" Mel asked. "That's like letting him win, isn't it? Just keep blocking his Emails. If he keeps making them, the cops will know."
"I know, I've been struggling with it all night. I don't want to change it either. I've had it for years. My initials and birth year. DH78. I will be 20 on Christmas day" she blushed. "Just in case you're wondering," she squeezed Michael's hand again. "The age gap between us never entered my head, as long as it doesn't bother you."
She wasn't sure why she was asking this now, a bit late for that and she knew this. But the killer just squeezed her hand again, stroking the back of hers affectionately with his thumb.
"Mel, where's Joanne? Sorry, I've lost track of when she's working."
"She's on a late shift today, starts at one."
She felt a rush of relief. Joanne would be in before her meeting with Stacey. She was going to ask Dr Stark if Joanne could attend with her. She meant what she'd said, she loved Joanne like a mother.
…
Shortly after breakfast, they were once again led out into the exercise yard. To her horror as Michael was chained to his concrete block, she felt the sting of tears. It wasn't the first time she'd been there when this had happened of course, but this occasion seemed to get to her more than any other. She knew why because Michael was now her lover which made it even harder to take. Mel who was still with her, put an arm around her.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I think I'm just feeling a bit… emotional today. Thinking about that meeting with Stacey, everything that's going on, my future…"
Mel stopped her by squeezing her close. "He can still hold your hand," she whispered. As if on cue, Michael took it.
"Please could you ask Dr Stark to come over here if she's free?" she asked Mel, who slipped away immediately.
"Rick and I are just the other side of the line," came Jack's voice.
"Ok," she acknowledged.
Just over a minute later, she felt a touch on her shoulder and heard Dr Stark's voice. "Hi, you wanted me?"
"Yes," she turned to face her doctor. "I wanted to ask, is there any chance Joanne could come into the meeting with Stacey today? We've become close, and I'd like her to be there."
"Of course," Dr Stark said. "If Joanne is happy to do so. She is your guard. What happens is between you two. She won't be needed elsewhere; she has been assigned to you entirely."
She remembered her scathing words when she'd first been told this. "You mean carer," and winced. God. She'd been rude and bitter back then. Now, she smiled genuinely at Dr Stark.
"Thanks, I'll ask Joanne then. But that's not all." She leant closer to whisper in Dr Stark's ear. "I was also wondering if Michael could be there, for obvious reasons."
"Hmm. I wonder what they are." Dr Stark said with a chuckle. "Stand by."
She walked away. She turned back to Michael, who was still holding her hand. My partner, she kept thinking. My lover. I still can't believe it!
A little while later, Dr Stark returned, Dr Loomis with her.
"Hi," he said. "Dr Stark has told me your second request." He approached them and spoke quietly. "Michael, Danielle has asked if you will attend her meeting today with Stacey, one of our DV advisors. Now I am more than happy to authorise this, on one condition." Mel saw him lay a hand on Michael's arm.
"I know you two have come a very long way," he was speaking in a very low voice so only their little group could hear. The yard was full of other patients. "So, I know neither she nor Joanne are in any danger from you. But you may hear things which will anger you. Do we need to use glass or Chains, Michael? Just in case?"
Mel could hardly believe what she saw. The killer extended a hand to his doctor who hesitated for a moment, then took it. Doctor and patient locked eyes and Michael shook his head very slightly to Dr Loomis. The Psychiatrist waited another second, then nodded to Michael.
"I don't need to tell you there will be guards outside," he said. "But I'm trusting you, Michael. Please don't prove me wrong to do so?" Again, the killer nodded.
…
At 1:15PM, they were released from their cell and taken to one of the private meeting rooms. She couldn't lie, she was thrilled Michael was allowed first to be with her and second without glass or chains. She knew understanding had passed between him and Dr Loomis in the exercise yard and that Michael had never taken such a big step before now. Even if he'd never be released, this would show enormous progress.
That's unless he goes out and kills someone as soon as he gets the chance, she thought then immediately chided herself for it. That wasn't fair. Michael had obviously made huge progress just as she had. But they'd done it together. To think that about him was cruel. Without him, she'd very possibly be dead after all.
They entered the room and Stacey stood up to greet them. "Hi, its Stacey. I guess you know my voice by now?"
"Yes."
"I'm flattered to hear that. Ok so Joanne and Michael are staying with us today is that correct?"
"Yes, if that's ok."
"Of course it is, this is your meeting. You have whoever you want and need present."
"Thanks," she said gratefully. Joanne and Michael sat either side of Danielle, opposite the DV advisor.
"Ok. So how can I help you today? I gather you requested this meeting. So, what do you need from me?"
"Stacey, I think I'm going to have to change my Apple ID. I really, really don't want to as I've had it for years; it was my Email address before iPhones even existed, but here's the thing. Adam keeps messaging me creating new Emails to do so, and I don't think he's going to stop until I change it."
"Are you sure that's what you want to do?" Stacey asked. "I mean, that's like…"
"Letting him win," she finished wearily. "I know. Believe me, I know. Joanne, Mel, and Dr Stark have all said exactly that. I know. But it's driving me mad! It won't stop until he gets arrested. I know Adam Stacey, he's a persistent and determined son of a bitch! He knows…" she stopped herself, realising she hadn't told Stacey her big news yet. "Stacey, I want to tell you something. The man sitting on my right, is my man now."
"Congratulations!" Stacey cried, with genuine delight in her voice. She stood up and shook their hands. "I'm so glad for both of you, that's why you wanted him here. I knew you were friends, you told me enough. But I'm happy for you both taking the next step and wish you the very best."
"Thanks, so that's what I was about to say. Adam knows Michael and I are a couple now, and we've also finally discovered who was watching and listening to me, who passed Adam my first protected number."
"Who?" Stacey asked quickly.
"Derek Chancer," she replied bitterly. "We found out a few nights ago. But thank fuck, he's on Death-Row now heading for the electric chair and can no longer reach me, us."
"I did read that on the news a few days back," Stacey said. "I'm sorry he put you in such danger. Although," she laughed. "I read something at the very bottom which said "we also did note however that Mr. Chancer had very badly bruised ears. As to how that happened, we'll never know." Hmm, I wonder! I bet I know! Anyway, did you find out how he did it?"
"I'm innocent! I know nothing of what you speak! He had some kind of specially programmed iPod. I don't exactly know how it worked, but he was able to text and call Adam on it I think and could also hear me in my cell with it. Well, that is, until it was modified with heavy sound proofing. Then he couldn't."
"Yes, Dr Stark told me about that," Stacey replied. "A very good idea. We knew someone was watching you, but not who. I'm so sorry your number was passed like that. I hear one of the guards was bribed to do it and had a little… accident?"
"That's one word for it," she muttered.
"But if we go back to the matter in hand," the DV advisor continued. "Adam, I really think if he keeps making Email addresses just to message you, all the evidence will stack up against him. From what you told me previously about the trial, Judge Spinner also has eyes on him. To keep making them would just be dangerous for him and more proof for you to show the court if necessary."
"That's what I said," Joanne agreed.
She sighed and put her face in her hands. "Damn it! I know you're right, of course I do. But…" she hesitated. "I don't want Adam to think he's won in any way whatsoever. Not even a small victory like this! But neither can I take his constant messages."
"What do they say?" Stacey asked. "How many have you had?"
For answer, she pulled out her phone, brought up the messages in her blocked list and handed it to her DV advisor. There was a moment's silence while she scanned them. There were only three, from three different Email addresses.
I won't give up, you're still mine.
There's nowhere to run, I own you and you are my property.
You won't escape me, one day I'll get you back. You belong to me and will obey me.
Stacey handed her back her phone. "Hmm, ok. Have you received any more since Adam was told about you and Michael?"
"No," she admitted. "But I don't want to use Michael as a protection card. Like, Adam isn't doing anything purely because he's afraid of Michael and if I was on my own he would. That's unfair on…" but she got no further because Michael yet again touched her cheek.
"I don't think you have a choice in that. I get the feeling Michael here is going to protect you purely because he cares about you, and your words about "using him as a protection card" are totally invalid. He's going to protect you because he's your man, same as any supposed partner should. Although as we unfortunately know, some don't."
"Michael's your man." Joanne said. "Not your protection card. I think even if you asked him not to protect you, he'd refuse. What? You'd push him away because you don't want a "protection card?" I wouldn't if I were you."
"Well said!" Stacey said firmly. She knew this was one conversation she had to surrender on.
"I know you're right," she said quietly. She turned to Michael. "I'm sorry Michael, I don't mean that as it sounds, I just… shit! I don't even know how to explain it. It's just, you're Michael Myers. If I was going out with… I don't know Fred Blogs from the ward next door, Adam wouldn't care because he wouldn't know him at all and what he's capable of. But your name is well-known all-over America, hell the world. You just happen to be my partner now. I… God! I'm not making this very clear, am I?"
"You want my advice?" Stacey asked as Michael put an arm around Danielle now and pulled her to his side. "Enjoy it. This is what it's like to be loved, truly loved. It doesn't come along often in life as you sadly know, so don't push it away by accident or on purpose."
"Well said if I do say so myself," Joanne smiled at Stacey. "I'd listen to this woman if I were you."
She remembered what Charlotte had said about Joanne. "This woman talks sense, so listen." So did Stacey Allard. "Is Charlotte, ok? are you still working with her?"
"She's fine," Stacey said promptly. "Don't you worry, we've got eyes on her and are communicating with her via phone daily, as I'm sure you are too. She has a direct number to call if she needs us, but she also has Psychologists and DV advisors where she is so she's very safe and well protected."
"Thanks, I knew that already I just wanted to see how it's going for her, but I appreciate you telling me that." She smiled at her DV advisor.
"Then you're welcome," Stacey said.
"I guess I'm just worried that if Adam thinks I'm now too hot, he'll go for Charlotte. That she'll become his prime target instead of me."
"If that's the case," Stacey said. "You honestly don't need to worry. Charlotte is very well protected, and we are taking all measures possible to ensure her safety. Not to mention from what I've been told; Adam is getting close to being rearrested."
"Good!" she said fervently. "Apart from getting with Michael, that's the best thing that I've heard in weeks!" Except it means Michael can't kill him, she thought bitterly.
"So," Stacey asked. "Are we changing your Apple ID or not? It's entirely up to you, entirely. Just bear in mind what we've said. Why should you lose an Email address you've had all your life for one man? That's what he wants after all."
She turned to Joanne then Michael, as if expecting him to speak.
"I agree with Stacey," Joanne said. "I'm sure Michael does too." The killer slightly nodded. "He just nodded," Joanne said, as Michael squeezed Danielle's hand. "I think you're outvoted on this one Danielle, sorry!"
"Don't let him have even a small victory," Stacey said. "Isn't that what you just said? Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to help you change it if that's really what you want, we can do it right now and get it changed instantly. But…"
"No," she said determinedly. "You're right. Even that would feel like a victory to the self-important little prick, and I don't want that! He's getting nothing from me!"
"Perfect," Stacey said. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
She hesitated. There was one thing she wanted to speak to Stacey about, but should she in front of Michael? As if reading her mind, Joanne whispered in her ear.
"It should be said in front of Michael, honesty is key in a long-lasting relationship. If you're worried about sabotaging it, then Michael hearing will also help. If he knows, he can work with you to ensure it doesn't happen."
"Would you like me to leave?" Joanne asked.
"No, please don't?" She began to speak and before she'd realised it, the words were tumbling out.
"I'm worried about sabotaging this relationship. From a small way to a big. I don't mean with insecurity or jealousy, I mean by waiting for Michael to say or do something to control me, being afraid to take my phone anywhere, calling him "sir" if I detect he's angry, not to mention he's a very dangerous man anyway!"
She hadn't meant to say that last out loud, but to her relief, Michael's arm tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. Stacey spoke.
"I think from the reaction you just got; you don't need to worry. He's hardly going to attempt to kill you if you have an argument. All couples argue, just ask my husband."
She chuckled; she couldn't help it. "Plus," Stacey continued. "Of course, you're going to struggle somewhat for a while so don't be too hard on yourself. It's totally understandable after what you went through, but then you also need to do your part and let Michael show you that you don't need to worry or fear him. The two of you need to work together on that. Do not try to do it all alone, or you might very well make a mistake you'll regret. There's no shame in needing your man, none. I've been married for twenty years, and I still ask my husband for help and love seeing him every day. A relationship takes two. Not one person who thinks she must prove she has everything under control."
There was a short silence. "I… can't argue with that," she said weakly.
"Nope," Stacey laughed. "You can't. Take it from one who knows."
"To quote Charlotte," Joanne said, grinning. "This woman talks sense, so listen."
When the meeting concluded a few minutes later, she couldn't believe how much better she felt. She was not letting Adam win by changing her ID, and she knew Stacey was right reworking with Michael when things got tough.
"So, tell him when you feel insecure," Stacey had said. "So, tell him when you fear him. Let him soothe you if you slip up and call him "sir." Let him hand you your phone if you leave it behind thinking you can't take it with you. You need to let him help you in this, not think you must do it all by yourself. You're a couple now, that's the key word. Couple."
Joanne led them back out into the exercise yard and to the waterfall, where they sat on the bench beside it. Joanne adjusting it to Danielle's favourite setting once more.
"Well that went better than I thought it would," she said. "I know Stacey's right with everything she said. I just hope I can do it. I hope I'm strong enough."
"After what we saw that night with Chancer?" Joanne said incredulously, as Michael put both arms around Danielle now and pulled her close, placing her hands on his ears. "After you pointed a gun at his head and interrogated him like a pro? I think you're more than strong enough. Don't start doubting yourself because that will also count as a win for Adam. Don't let it!"
She couldn't answer because Michael leant in then and softly kissed her to the lips.
"You, see?" Joanne said. "He's here for you through good and bad, rough, and smooth. You just need to let yourself trust him and believe that."
She knew both Joanne and Stacey were right. With Michael Myers at her side, together they would get through anything Adam Dawson could throw at them, mental or physical. It may take time, but she knew they had years. She smiled at both and hugged Michael tightly. There would undoubtedly be tough times ahead, but she was ready for them, whatever they were. What would come would come, and she, they, would face it head on when it did.
…
There were only a handful of occasions Chris Leach could remember when he'd, seriously considered killing someone. He might be a respected and feared crime boss, but he didn't want too many murders against his name. If he was caught, the consequences could be his own death by lethal injection or the electric chair. He didn't respect the police, judges, or any form of authority, accept perhaps other crime bosses. Right now, however was one of those times he was close, very close to committing murder. His probable victim was Adam Dawson. The guy had seriously pissed him off. Leach had told him quite clearly the night he'd terminated the guy's contract not to call their number again and to delete it from his phone. Evidently, he'd written it down somewhere or had it memorised. Because Leach had seen him delete it as instructed, yet he'd just called again.
His man who'd answered had recognised Dawson's voice and told Leach straight away. Apparently, Dawson had begged for Leach himself to meet with him. Leach was about to do just that but could very well end up putting Dawson in an early grave for the privilege.
When he entered the internet café Dawson and he had met in before, Dawson was already there. Leach made it obvious instantly he was angry. "What is it, Adam? I thought I'd made it quite clear and told you your contract was terminated, and not to call us again. You'd better have a damn good reason for doing so, or you won't live past tonight."
"Sir," Adam said immediately. "Please just hear me out. I do have a reason and I really need your help."
Leach considered. Kill him now? Or listen? He decided on the latter, for this moment at least. He couldn't deny Dawson gave them good money for their work and he'd never turn that down, but this guy really got under his skin. He sat down. "You've got five minutes," he said briskly. "Start talking and this better be fucking good, Adam!"
"Mr. Leach Sir, I agree with both you and my father. She is too hot; I'll leave well alone. What I'm here for tonight has nothing to do with her at all. I wanted to ask you whether you'd be willing to give me a much smaller contract which just focuses on Charlotte, as it did at the very start of this. You would still get well paid for it though. She is out and about, free. She'd be much easier to watch and listen to. Yes, ok Sir, I admit Danielle was my number one target at first, but you're right, she's too dangerous now. Charlotte isn't though. Which is why I wondered if you'd at the very least consider this Sir?"
Leach forced himself to clamp down on his anger and spoke calmly. Dawson really was a stupid idiot. "Adam, in case you've forgotten, target two is only target one's best friend?" Let Adam use their names if he wanted, but Leach wasn't going to. He'd told Adam long ago not to do that, the guy really was an ammeter. "Did you seriously just say it has nothing to do with target one, it… kind of does, don't you think? She too will be protected by target one's man, just as target one is. No, Adam. I won't consider that. She too, is too hot."
There was silence for a moment and Leach watched his words sink in across Dawson's face. Jesus! Was the man really that slow? He couldn't have forgotten this, surely? Eventually, Dawson spoke.
"Yes, Sir, that's as maybe, but target one's man won't be getting out of that place. He's there for life. What are the chances he'll escape and find me?"
Leach snorted. Seriously. "Adam," he said as if speaking to a stupid child. "If that's your opinion, why are you still not pursuing target one? If you really think you're safe from her man, why is she too hot for you? You don't think he'll escape ever? Fine, go after her then! Alone!"
Leach was pleased to see Dawson blush. "Good point, Sir," he muttered, looking down at the dirty café table rather than meeting Leach's eyes. Leach was glad watching him squirm. Stupid idiot. But then he thought of a question he genuinely wanted to know the answer to. "Why do you not just pick up someone else, Adam? Why are you so obsessed with these two bitches? Is it because you dated them? Humour me, I genuinely want an answer."
Adam looked surprised for a moment, as it was the first time Leach was addressing him as an equal. Leach smirked to himself. Don't get used to it, it would also be the last. Adam looked up now, finally meeting the crime Lord's eyes.
"I… I don't know," he said. Leach knew he was telling the truth this time. "I think target one because she tried to kill herself because of me. I want to see her miserable, suffering. Also, because I hate women, full stop. Always have done."
"So, you're a Misogynist?" Leach asked.
"Very much so," Adam nodded fervently. "My father Edward brought me up to control women. Make them do as they tell you, obey you, work for you, let you fuck them whenever you want. They are property, not people, he said. He treated mom like property the whole of their marriage until he was fucking arrested," he said the last through gritted teeth.
"Purely because your father told you so?" Leach didn't know why he was asking Dawson all this, but he was genuinely interested he realised with surprise.
"My father is everything to me," Dawson said. "I've always wanted to earn his love, approval, and respect. Plus, he's right. I never liked women anyway. I had my first incident with one when I was 12. She dared to turn away from me while I was eyeing up her tits. I grabbed her ponytail and swung her round, before squeezing her tits so hard they bruised. I was legitimately angry she'd dared to turn away from me. Insolent bitch! I think dad was proud of me to boot. Took me for a meal in his Jag that night and when we were in private, he told me so. I felt so good then. I'd made dad proud of me!"
"Hmm," Leach said slowly. "What happened?"
Dawson shrugged. "Nothing, I just got yelled at by the police. No big deal. It was when I was 16, I made a stupid mistake. But damn it I wanted her! It was another bitch, she was fucking gorgeous, Mr. Leach. Gorgeous. I had to fuck her like crazy. I came in my bed every night thinking about her cunt. Jesus' man! So, one day after school I got her alone behind the bike sheds and fucked her. At knife point of course, so she couldn't get away, didn't struggle or scream. I didn't even know her name. That was bad. Cops were at my house within two hours, and I got sent to a fucking detention centre. But she remembers me," he smirked. "She's got severe PTSD last time I heard, terrified of men now thanks to me."
Leach kept his mouth shut. Personally, he thought that was a little too far, but he wasn't going to tell Dawson that. "Did you not consider a mask?" He asked him instead. Dawson shook his head.
"No, I was just so fucking horny! I couldn't think straight Sir. I just had to get my cock inside her that was all I could think about. A mask and so on occurred to me later of course, but by then it was too late. Plus, I said to her "if you scream, I'll slit your throat," so chances are she recognised my voice considering I'd pretended to be Mr. nice until that point. To gain her trust and all that."
Leach nodded. If he was honest with himself, this information only made his dislike of Dawson intensify. The guy really was an outright misogynist. Leach had suspected it before now, but here was the proof from the man's own mouth. But maybe there was something Leach could do for him, for a price of course.
"Listen Adam," he said slowly. "I'm sorry I stand by what I said. We can't and will not reinstate your previous contract, it's too dangerous. Both Targets one and two are. However, I happen to have a gang of misogynists who are just as hating and scathing of women as you are. I could put you in touch with them and you could work together against other women if that's your plan. It'll cost you of course, but I am willing to do this for you. Pick up another woman to control, terrorise. But we are not getting involved in your pursuit of the targets. Should you wish to continue it; you'll do so alone."
Adam nodded. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, I'll take you up on that offer. I of course don't know many men like me, because we must keep our heads down as the stupid authorities won't make it law for women to be put in their proper place in society. Underneath men in every way not just in bed! They instead arrest us and call it fucking Domestic abuse! What the fuck?"
Leach didn't answer. Privately, he wouldn't want it to become law. Not that he particularly cared about women one way or the other, but he still didn't think that was the right way to do things. He thought again of Tulip, and smirked. God, he wished he'd asked her to attend this meeting with him. Adam would get one hell of a shock meeting her! She'd knock him for six and show him quite plainly that not all women were there for the obeying and fucking. Leach smiled to himself at that glorious vision. Chances are Adam would be on the floor bleeding before he'd even unzipped his pants. Yep, shame she wasn't here right now.
This time he considered calling her right now to join them, just to see the look on Dawson's face. But no, he decided. Not right now. Next time though? Hell yes! Because there would be a next time Chris Leach decided then and there. He'd make sure there was just to put Adam and Tulip in the same room. All he'd bring was the popcorn! It'd be one hell of a show. Hell, he'd pay to see it!
Five minutes later, Leach left the café, having given Dawson the phone number of the head of that gang he had in his huge ring. What did he care? It was more money for their well mainly his pockets. He'd charged Dawson two hundred dollars just for the number after all! Now though, he couldn't deny he was truly interested in how this would play out. He'd watch, he decided. Use one of his men to see how Adam and his misogynistic friends got on. What they did and who they targeted. But if Adam dared even mention the previous targets to them, Leach would once again terminate his business. He'd made that very clear to Adam just now too. Dawson had just nodded and said, "Yes Sir. I understand, thank you."
…
Now back in his car, Leach pulled out his phone and dialled the number he'd just charged Adam a small fortune for.
"This is Leach," he said when his man picked up on the other end. The head Misogynist was a nasty piece of work named Ashley, who truly did make Adam an ammeter even in misogyny. He'd fuck a woman if he liked the look of her there and then, dragging her in to bushes or his car to do so. He'd literally see them alone on the street, grab them and rape them. He was incredibly violent and if a woman even dared speak without his permission, they got at the very least a black eye. Worst, broken bones. Leach suspected he'd even killed a couple of women in his time for such things as daring to speak without his permission, not calling him Sir or taking his plate out after dinner for him quick enough. Oh yes, Ashley would hurt a woman given the slightest excuse, also even without one. Leach once heard he'd also hospitalised many, one for daring not to answer her phone when he called the first time. He'd had to call again. From what Leach had been told, she'd had broken ribs.
"We've got a recruit joining you guys. Name's Adam Dawson. He's a misogynist and asked to be put in touch with you to join up. Help terrorise women with you."
"Perfect," Ashley almost purred and Leach felt a shiver run down his spine. "The more bitches who are scared and do as we men tell them, so much the fucking better. I need to be quick though Mr. Leach, I have a whore waiting to get her good fucking as we speak."
"No problem," Leach said, surprised at how repulsed he felt at his man's words and Adam's. This was very unusual for him as he never normally felt anything. Cold, emotionless, detached. But then he reminded himself why should he care? This wasn't his business; it was a business. Big difference. But he had made it quite clear to Ashley and his fellow misogynists that they were never, ever to hurt Tulip, Sharon. Leach felt very protective of his deputy. That said, she was built like a brick shit house and would certainly give them a run for their money if they tried anything. But it was an unspoken agreement between them. Sharon was and would always be safe from them. Any other woman, Leach didn't give a damn. But not Tulip! Or there would be hell to pay.
"I gave him your number," he continued. "He'll contact you soon, I'm sure."
"Well, if it's tonight he'll have to wait. I got three whores to fuck before the nights out, my mistress has a huge list of jobs to do around the house, and I will be busy inspecting them to make sure she's done them to my absolute demands."
God help her if she hasn't, Leach thought. Jesus! What motivates these guys to this level?
"I told him to wait until tomorrow," Leach said. This was untrue and he wasn't sure why he'd said it, but he sincerely hoped Adam would do so. A pissed off Ashley might mean men get hurt, never mind women.
"Fine," Ashley grunted and hung up.
Normally Leach would've been angry his subordinate hadn't respected him, but tonight he didn't care he realised as the phone went dead in his ear. He was tired and wanted a good night's sleep. He himself was single, but Sharon was always there if he wanted a good romp in the sheets. Thinking of her now, Chris Leach smiled as he started his car's engine. He would make damn sure Ashley or one of the others told Dawson she was off limits from their misogyny. If they didn't, he would.
…
Danielle lay in bed in Michael's arms, getting close to sleep. She felt a lot better following her meeting with Stacey that day, or rather their meeting. She rested her head on Michael's shoulder, as the killer continued stroking her back. She noticed how tenderly he was doing so, so as not to hurt her scarred flesh. She realised this was one of less than ten times Michael had seen her naked. It'd only happened since they got together of course.
"Michael," she murmured. "Darling, can I show you something?" The second word had just slipped out and she wondered how he'd react, but he simply kissed her mouth, placing her hands on his ears. She took a deep breath. She'd wanted to do this for a while, even before they became a couple. But tonight was time, she knew it in her very heart.
She let go of Michael's left ear and took one of his hands, slowly guiding it across her body, each scar. As she did so, she told him how she'd got each one. The cigarette burns, cuts with a knife if she didn't wash up, wash his clothes, answer her phone, was late home, or dared to speak to him without his say so.
Finally, she placed his hand on her inner thigh, very close to her vaginal entrance. "I got this one," she said very quietly. Even though there was no one around to hear. "The day I tried to hang myself. Adam cut me with a knife while he was raping me. I'm not sure whether he meant to do it or not, but it bled so bad it almost killed me on its own from blood loss. Luckily the ambulance staff acted super-fast, thanks to Nigel. I really hope you meet him one day Michael, I love that man as a grand dad."
She could almost feel the killer's anger as his finger rested very lightly on her most intimate scar, but then he removed his hand, pulled her back to him, and kissed her again. Now she couldn't stop herself. This was something she'd only done with him once way back. Now, it was for real. She moved back up, so her head was on his shoulder and for only the second time, moved her mouth so it was against his right ear.
She was sure she heard him softly chuckle as she did so, but this time she slowly moved her lips across it, hearing his sharp intake of breath, before she very softly nibbled the top of his ear. Michael's arms tightened, but she knew he was trying to suppress his reaction for her. She leant down and kissed him.
"I love you, Michael Myers," she whispered. "I love you so much! God, I find your ears fucking sexy! I meant what I said that very first time you know. One day soon, I promise you, I won't want you to stop. I want to be yours in every way, Michael and if you'll let me, I will be some very soon day."
He resumed stroking her back as she rested back on his shoulder, her favourite pillow. He moved his head again, so she was touching his ears. Unable to help herself, she nibbled the top of his left ear this time and heard his quiet chuckle.
"Hmm," she sighed happily. "So comfortable." She felt his arms tighten around her and pressed her face against his neck, then softly kissed it once, twice. The killer raised his head and to her surprise but delight, he kissed hers in turn as she had kissed his.
Let Adam try what he wants! She thought as she cuddled close to Michael, closing her eyes in utter contentment. I'm ready for him! Michael Myers of all people has shown me I can beat him! I can win! You will never control or torture me again, Adam Dawson. God help you if you try! Have you dug your grave yet or made the headstone? I'd start now if I were you, especially if I'm still in your twisted plans. You want to die soon? Then keep coming after me for your death warrant.
…
The clock is ticking on Derek Chancer's chances.
The 28-year-old killer from Haddonfield responsible for the brutal rapes and murders of no fewer than forty-two women in five years, is condemned to die by electrocution in old Sparky. His Lawyer Aiden Thompson told this newspaper, "I am doing all within my power to save my client from the death penalty, but even if I succeed in this endeavour, he will face life imprisonment."
This statement has caused public outcry from friends and family of Mr. Chancer's victims.
"He deserves to die," said Samantha Lever, sister of Rachael Lever, Mr. Chancer's eighth victim." We've never stopped grieving Rachael, and the thought of her killer still living when she is no longer with us is something we won't stand for!"
Miss Lever's statement is far from the only one. When we here at Haddonfield's hottest Hype were the first to reveal Mr. Chancer had been caught, there was celebration country wide.
One thing our one lucky reporter here at HHH who was allowed close enough to see Mr. Chancer escorted with maximum security into Death-Row, did note the woman killer had very red, swollen and badly bruised ears. Both. How this happened, we do not know.
A complete list of all forty-two names is at the bottom of this article. The mayor of Haddonfield is asking for volunteers within the town to aid in the building of a memorial to the victims. If you would like to help, please use the Email address at the top of this page.
Rachael Lever.
Sarah Goodall.
Amy Richards.
Sally Webber.
…
Mark Sarcozi felt physically sick as he scanned the newspaper in front of him. How had it come to this? The little boy he'd met when they were 6 at school a woman killer and rapist. Now facing the electric chair? Mark knew he'd done the right thing leaving him behind. With friends like that, who needed enemies after all?
But even at that age, Derek had shown glimpses of the evil man he'd become. Mark remembered the very first one only too well. Thinking back over the three times he'd had to visit his former friend in Smith's Grove, Mark couldn't understand why he'd even agreed to do it, money be damned. Ok, so his bank balance had grown a great deal, but it felt like small consolation for all those women who were now dead thanks to Derek Chancer.
Mark looked back at the quotes from families of the deceased and found he agreed. Derek did deserve to die. It would bring closure to so many families and friends of his victims. Mark privately suspected Thompson had said what he had to provoke this response. That even the Lawyer was hoping Chancer would be executed and a protest might help his cause, while at the same time looking as though he was "trying to save his client."
Don't bother, Mark thought. He's beyond any kind of saving now. Try as he might, he couldn't get that first day meeting Chancer out of his mind. Even then he should've known something was wrong, even aged 6. But none of them had any idea just how evil he would become.
…
"Ok," Miss Tapper called, silencing the twenty children in front of her. "You all now have a piece of playdough and I want you please to make it into your favourite thing, then tell us what it means to you and why. It could be hobbies, people, whatever is closest to you. You can work in pairs if you wish. You have an hour."
Mark sitting near the front knew exactly what he was going to make. His ambition was to be a famous racing driver, become world champion. Reaching for his rolling pin, he began to roll the dough flat. The two assistants with Miss Tapper were keeping careful eyes on them, considering they were children with rolling pins and cutters, hazards if not controlled correctly.
Making a racing car was a lot harder than he'd thought it would be. He reached for a cutter, they had one which was car shaped and placed it in the middle of his flat dough. The result was nowhere near as good as he'd hoped.
"I can make that a much better car," said a voice to his left. Mark looked around and saw that another classmate was now sitting next to him. The boy had short black hair and piercing, cold blue eyes. "That's what you're making right?"
"Yeah," Mark blushed. "I want to be a world-famous racing driver.
The other boy's lip curled in what looked to Mark like a smirk or a sneer of contempt, but he said nothing, just started helping with his car. By the time they were done, Mark was very proud of their work but hated the fact the other boy had been right. He had made it a lot better than Mark would or could ever have done. That stung.
"What's your name?" Mark asked him.
"I'm Derek," the other boy said. "Yours?"
"I'm mark."
"Nice to meet you, Mark." Then, he started to laugh. "Ha-ha a racing driver, get on your marks!" He seemed to find this hilarious. Mark looked away.
"What are you making?" Mark asked Derek, who had now started on his. To Mark, it looked like a long box with decorations around the edges. Mark dived in enthusiastically and helped Derek as he had helped him.
When the hour was up, Miss Tapper called the class to order and went round the room asking them about their shapes. There were pets, family member's mom and dad, and one little girl had tried to make a pair of scissors because she wanted to be a hairdresser when she grew up. When it came Mark's turn, he showed his racing car and said his ambition was to be a world-famous driver.
When Derek Chancer stood up when Miss Tapper called on him, he held up his box shape.
"Ok Derek," Miss Tapper said. "What is this? What does it mean to you?"
"It's a coffin," Derek said quietly, but clearly. Everyone heard. A few girls squeaked. "It's a box for a dead person."
"Ok…" even at 6, Mark knew Miss Tapper was taken aback at the very least by this choice of shape. But she rallied almost at once. "What does that mean to you, Derek? Do you want to be an undertaker when you grew up?"
"Yes Miss Tapper," Derek said. "An undertaker of revenge, of justice."
…
Mark shivered, remembering this as if it'd happened yesterday. Miss Tapper had asked Derek to stay behind after class and asked him privately about it. Mark had only found this out years later. Derek had told him the teacher had said he had to be very careful saying things like that and asked exactly what he meant. She'd also told the headmaster about her concerns.
Mark suddenly felt a lurch of horror and scanned the article, but there was no sign of a Lorraine Tapper in the list of names. Clearly, she hadn't been targeted by the killer in her classroom that day.
Yet somehow, they became friends and remained so for ten years. Until Chancer first raped then killed a woman. That was when Mark knew he needed out.
Of course, how were any of them to know what Derek actually, really meant? If Miss Tapper had told Derek's mother, that would've been useless considering she loved her little boy, saying he wouldn't "hurt a fly." Now Mark understood why. She too was bent on revenge against women and would protect her son at any cost. After all, they only had each other now after his father had left them for another woman, starting this hellish chain of rape and death.
Even during those brief visits he'd made to his former friend, Mark knew he was just as dangerous as he always had been. He had no idea what the eventual outcome of the iPod thing was, but quite honestly was glad he didn't. It wasn't his business after all. But he still stood by his private hopes that she wasn't hurt because of any of his actions. If he could go back and do it all again, he'd have refused when first asked. He'd been weak, thinking of money alone. He hated himself for that. Let Chris Leach do what he wanted, but Mark Sarcozi was done with him or his crime. He fully intended to get back on the right path, leaving Derek Chancer to fry in the chair. Mark would be glad when it happened. He even wished he could pull the switch.
…
One week later.
Despite his continued longing and desire to punish both bitches, Adam had to admit his father had had a point. Claire Richards was a fucking gorgeous bitch. He'd done the same as he had with Charlotte, faked sadness at his breakup with her and Claire was more than ready to run into his arms. For the last almost fortnight Adam had been Mr. nice guy, trying as hard as he could to stay patient until his real self could come out yet again. Claire was only too willing to let him fuck her; all be it he was only pretending to ask her consent. God help her if she'd said no.
Leach's gang of misogynists were the best thing that'd happened to Adam recently. They hated women with a ferocity Adam had been longing for. The only woman they weren't allowed to touch was Tulip, or Sharon, Leach's deputy. If Adam was honest, given the chance he'd do just that. They were obviously scared of Leach, cowards. Adam's annoyance with the crime Lord was not something he would hide. How could he not re-instate a smaller contract for him to pursue Charlotte? Why the hell would Michael Myers give a damn for Charlotte Avery? her, ok. But Charlotte?
Slamming his front door that night, Claire was dutifully waiting for him. Good. "Haya babe," Claire said, smiling at him. Adam clenched his fists internally. I'm Sir to you bitch! He thought viciously. But that had to wait. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to smile back. "Hey darling," he approached and kissed her passionately, holding her tightly. It may have seemed romantic to her, but in truth it was to try and show her without doing so that she wasn't going anywhere, she was his.
He'd met Claire a few times in his local bar and had made his move to capture her immediately. Just as he had hoped, Claire didn't believe a word of the press article about his trial. "You're way too nice for that Adam," she'd gushed, batting her eye lashes at him. Adam felt his cock harden. Fuck she was gorgeous. He was going to have her tonight. "It's all a bunch of lies and I know it. I've liked you for ages. I can't pretend otherwise! I'm so glad you've broken up with that Charlotte."
"Thanks babes," Adam had said, walking her back to his house like a true gentleman. Claire had said she'd love to come back with him. It wasn't long before he was fucking her. Right then, he knew she was his last conquest. He'd marry her, force her to stay with him to obey, get fucked and so on.
Claire was 25 to his 32, but that didn't matter to him. Young, naïve, easy target. Adam had often smiled at his date of birth, 06/06/1966. He saw it as a sign. An omen perhaps, pun intended.
Now, Claire came into his living room carrying his dinner. She seemed to enjoy doing things for him. That was even better. "Sorry," she blushed. "I love you; Adam and I want to do this for you."
Get used to it, Adam thought. Because soon you'll have no choice on pain of rape or beating. Maybe worse.
"Thank you, babes," Adam said, sitting down to eat as Claire brought her food in. Oh no, that would be stopped soon. She wouldn't have his nice stuff for much longer. She'd make do with a sandwich or something very soon. Adam couldn't believe how stupidly easy it'd been to get Claire into his house and consequently, his trap. He'd assumed rightly. Women couldn't resist his good looks and fake charm. They were throwing themselves at him. Right now, Claire still lived with her parents, but that wouldn't last long. He'd sweep her off her feet, he sneered at the romantic saying. Sweep her into hell was probably more accurate. Unless she was one of those bitches who secretly loved being dominated, controlled. If so, even better. He'd still beat her sometimes just for his own kicks though, however obedient she was to him.
"I've got to make a phone call babe," he said when they'd finished dinner. "I won't be long and then I want to take you to bed and fuck you all night!" I'm going to was what he really wanted to say, but he knew he had to be careful. Not yet, too fast. Claire smiled at him seductively and he almost grabbed and fucked her there and then over the dining room table. "Ok darling," she purred. "Sounds good to me." Adam again wanted to tell her she had no choice in the matter but stopped himself. He headed into his bedroom and locked the door so his whore couldn't get in until he or rather his cock, was ready for her. Pulling out his phone, he dialled Ashley's number. There were some men in the misogynist gang he'd almost call friends already. It was so nice to talk to men who had the same view as him. That women should be locked up, beaten, raped. Views the stupid authorities were too cowardly to make legal. If he ever got into government one day, he'd do just that.
"Adam," Ashley said when he answered. "What's up my man?"
"Ashley my good fellow! Can I talk with you about something? Are you free now?"
"Yes, in person or phone?"
"Well, if you can do in person awesome! I'll be there now! I just must secure my bitch!"
"Perfect. I'll see you at mine in thirty minutes. I need to secure mine too, get her out of our way. Private man's business and all that."
Adam laughed. "I hear you, Ashley. Thanks. Will any of the others be able to make it? I want to run this past a few of us."
"I'll make some calls Adam. See you in thirty." He was gone. Adam whistled loudly as he headed back downstairs. Now the only problem facing him was how to stop Claire leaving while still looking "kind." Adam sneered at the word. Oh, he couldn't wait until all pretences could be gone. Claire would be put in her proper place, his property, subordinate to him. It wouldn't be long now; Adam was determined on this.
"Babes, I must go out. I'm going to lock the door to keep you safe, ok? There's a key in the box on the side by the door but please don't use it unless you must, wait for me my darling and I'll fuck you later all you want."
Claire smiled at him, and Adam wanted to punch her. "Ok Adam, see you soon darling." Just as well she hadn't asked him where he was going, or he may very well have lost his temper and hit her. That would be bad at this very early stage. What Adam was really saying was if you leave, I'll know, and you'll be badly punished.
"I'll be checking the key is there when I come back," he said. "Just to make sure you haven't touched it or lost it." He left before she could answer. Damn he had to be careful but fuck he hated women. They belonged beneath men and subordinate to them in every way. As Adam climbed into his car, he wondered how many bitches had just been locked up by their men for this male only meeting. Smirking, he headed to ward's Ashley's huge house. Whatever crime he dabbled in was clearly profitable. Adam hoped he'd get his hands on some of that crime soon. Especially if it made money like Ashley and some of his fellow misogynists had.
When Adam arrived six men were waiting for him, making Adam smile broadly. There were six other misogynists with him, and they would help him somehow. Some of their misogyny made Adam's look tame. He would learn from these men.
"Dawson!" Ashley clapped him on the back. "Come in Sir!"
Adam entered Ashley's lounge and settled himself on a wide leather sofa. Two of the men there were in suits and ties he noticed, the other four more casually dressed. Maybe the suited guys were leaders or something?
"What can I get you to drink?" Ashley asked. "Normally my bitch would be doing this, but she's locked up tonight as punishment for an earlier transgression."
Adam grinned. Good. "Good to hear it Sir. I'll have a beer if you please?"
"No problem my man. One minute."
When Ashley returned with an ice-cold beer, Adam thanked him and as the other six opened their own drinks, he started. "Gentlemen, I know I'm very new indeed to this gang, but I can't thank Mr. Leach enough for letting me in to it. I've wanted to meet men like yourselves for all my life. Men who hate women, agree with me they are subordinate to us. I just wish like fuck it was legal!" There were murmurs of agreement. "So anyway, you'll have probably all seen the trial, yes?" The six men nodded, but none spoke. "A woman not accepting her place. Well, I can't get to her for… reasons which would take too long to explain and to be honest you might not believe. I'm struggling to believe them myself. But Charlotte? Hell yes! She's one I can get too with your help if you're willing. I don't want this to be a full contract and I'm not trying to go behind Mr. Leach's back. But I would pay whoever did it very generously indeed."
"Hmm," Ashley said slowly. "So, you want Charlotte attacked. Sounds good to me! But how far are we talking? Raped? Or…"
"No," Adam said with an evil smile. "Fatally."
"Wo, ok!" One of the suited men said. "Slow down Adam. You want us to arrange Charlotte Avery's death?"
"Correct. Is that possible? I'll pay whatever it takes?"
"It's certainly possible," said the other suited man. "But it'll be expensive and will need a lot of working out and planning."
"Will you need to ask Mr. Leach for authorisation for her killing?"
Ashley considered. "Nah. We're supposed to, but I like you, Adam. I'll take the rap for it if necessary. I have some seniority in Mr. Leach's rings, so if I say its ok, he tends to trust me."
"Thanks man," Adam shook Ashley's hand. "I can't thank you enough for this."
"Ok. So, if we are going to kill her, first thing we need to decide is when, how, where. We need to start planning gentleman. Settle in, get some food if you want it, this could be a long night."
Four hours later, Adam headed for home. He was thrilled. It'd taken a lot of planning, but now they were ready. He had been right in his earlier assumption, the guys in suits were gang leaders. They'd made notes as they talked which had been immediately shredded in a powerful machine. Tomorrow was the day death would call Charlotte Avery's name. Adam was just sorry he wouldn't be there to watch it. He'd deliberately avoided telling the group about Michael Myers and her. If they knew that, it was very likely the plans would've been stopped right there, and Adam wasn't going to let that happen. No, Charlotte Avery was going to die for daring to defy him, testify in court, and patch up with her! Not to mention being a disobedient bitch who didn't know who her boss was. Men.
"You'll need to be at home when it happens Adam," Patrick, one of the casually dressed men said. "You need a solid alibi. Unless we're very careful and make it look like an accident the police will be on to you like bees to a honeycomb. You can't be anywhere near her when it happens. We'll video it and send it to you later."
As much as Adam hated it, he knew Patrick was right. "Fine," he said without argument. "As long as you send me the tapes. I'll pay when I've seen it's done."
"Ok," Ashley agreed. "But Patrick here's right. You are being there would be way too dangerous. The police will probably come straight round to your address. You know the drill, fake shock, sadness. Ok they might not buy it given the trial, but they'll have no choice but to believe you weren't there as all the evidence will confirm that. So don't be, Adam. Don't put yourself in that position when the cops are crawling all over and watching you all the time. You must stay out of this and let us do the work."
Adam knew they were right, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Damn it. He wanted to see Charlotte Avery die and laugh as she did so. He just hoped it wouldn't be quick, but slow and very painful. It would serve the bitch right.
Before Long, Adam was fucking Claire slowly and relishing every second. Hearing Claire's soft moans beneath him, grabbing her tits, knowing she would soon be his prisoner, that she would learn who was her boss and if she failed to learn this, she would be punished in the very same way. Adam's thoughts about that dickhead Tim Jennings didn't help. The guy who'd dared to take his property from him without his permission. Charlotte was his property, so he should've asked his say so before taking her, it. Just as with anything in his house. True he didn't give a shit about her, but as far as Adam was concerned that was beside the point. In the end, Ashley had contacted Chris Leach by phone and ran the plans past him, verifying he would take any responsibility if anything went wrong and that Adam wasn't asking for a full contract, just this assassination. Leach hesitated for a while and Adam heard Ashley telling the crime Lord the plans once, twice, until Leach was finally satisfied and authorised it. Even the price of 20,000 dollars didn't deter Adam. This was just perfect. As he'd handed the cash over to Ashley before leaving, he just wished he could watch, popcorn in hand. What a hell of a show he would be missing tomorrow morning. If all went well, Charlotte Avery would next be seen by her family and friends in her coffin.