Dennis Larsen - With Cruel Intent

‘Sweet Home Alabama’ vibrated the speakers and shook the decaying chassis as the driver, parked a little more than a block from the B amp;B, sang along and tapped his hands on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the rock classic. The time on his watch read 8:47, the two hours he’d spent sitting and listening to KRCK had passed much slower than he would have liked. Earlier in the morning he had watched the dog walkers stroll along the sidewalks, stopping occasionally to clean up after their animals, depositing the disgusting little bags in the nearby receptacle. He could not understand why city people wanted dogs, they were meant to be outside, running free, and the owners were certainly not supposed to pick up their dog’s shit with their hands. Sickened him, even though he had grown up with cats, dogs and even a gator that lived in their bathtub, until it was too big, and had to be released back into the river.

Felix had phoned him late the night before, congratulating him on a job well done. It appeared they — whoever ‘they’ were — appreciated the extra effort and risks he had taken and wanted him to lay low for a few days. He was happy to take them up on the offer; having his hinny hanging in the wind was not his idea of a good time. The last outing had taken ten years off his life and most likely Rascal’s as well. The night before, troubled him greatly; first a colored and now this, Blanche taking up with a schoolboy. Lester had followed the couple to the restaurant but grew weary of waiting for them and had finally gone home, seething with anger. As with Virginia May, he could not fully identify the focus of his rage. Blanche would soon enough recognize the important role he would play in her life, but he would need to deal with these distracters first.

Since the Mr. Muscle competition a scenario had been forming in Lester’s mind, and an evolution was taking place, massaging and forming the plan into something that would take care of both of these hounds hot on Blanche’s scent. It would take timing, skill and cunning. Over the coming week he would devote as much time as it took to learn their routines, and act when the stars aligned, and his plot could be set into motion. He was starting with Blanche, the work schedule was easy, she worked five days a week including a couple of nights. He’d enjoyed the time watching her from the shadows and his disguised ventures into her domain. Today was his first chance to observe her 'day off' behaviors, and he came well prepared, binoculars, camera with high-powered telephoto lens, and the stolen.38 caliber pistol tucked into the front of his pants.

Blanche deliberately avoided breakfast, knowing that Felix, aka ‘Clueless Wonder’, would be there trying to put the moves on her, and she just couldn’t imagine putting up with his crap after the lovely evening she’d spent with Seymour. The couple had stayed out much later than he had originally planned but still managed to get her in the door before Caroline called the police. When she’d gotten home there was a message on her phone from Holly wondering how her date with ‘Woody’ had gone. She returned the call knowing the two-hour time differential would still have Holly awake playing games on the computer or watching a movie with her family. The educated guess was correct, they were watching, The Town That Dreaded Sundown , a true story of a killer that stalked a small town’s youth, killing as he went and was never caught. The librarian’s closest friend did love her horror movies. Blanche relished the chance to talk about her date. She’d had a wonderful time but didn’t realize how meaningful it was until she heard herself reliving it again with her dear friend.

Blanche slept peacefully, her mind void of conflict and worry. In the morning she laid in bed lazily, remembering the strength in Seymour’s shoulder and chest as she’d used him as a pillow, and the softness of his lips when they shared their first soulful kiss. He wanted to see her again tonight, forcing Blanche to explain the previous promise made to Jasper, but he was so very understanding, something she’d not seen before in the opposite sex. After the good nights sleep and taking it easy until 9:00 a.m. she decided a run would do her good, get her body in sync with her psyche. She donned a tight fitting sports bra, lycra shorts and running shoes, pulled her hair back into a ponytail and bounced down the stairs. In the entryway of the older home she stretched, twisting and lengthening her muscles before she ventured out. Mrs. Muir was reading in the parlor and could see her young friend getting ready to run.

“Blanche, did you have a good time last night?”

“Oh, hey Mrs. Muir. Yeah, had a great time, ate Indian food for the first time, it was awesome. What are you up to?” she said, continuing to bend and warm up her muscles.

“Just catching up on some reading, the paper this morning has some interesting things on that stalker out by the base. Have you been following that?” Mrs. Muir leaned over a bit to get a better view of the runner.

“Somewhat, mostly what you’ve been telling me, along with Seymour.”

“He’s sure having an impact on our local economy.”

“How so? Thought he was just stealing a few things and frightening people,” she said, moving closer to the older woman so she could hear well.

“I guess the gun stores have completely sold out of handguns and most are to women, and the housing, especially in that area, is in a mess. There are all those new condos across from Moody and they can’t give them away, number of people even looking at them is down 70 %.”

“Crazy how the actions of one person can have so much impact on so many others, just not very fair is it?” she offered.

“No, it’s sure not. The boy you were with last night, he seems very nice, such a polite, well-mannered, young man. We certainly don’t see that very often any more. I hope I’m not prying, but will you be seeing him again?” Mrs. Muir said, enjoying the pressure she was applying to the librarian.

“Oh, I expect so, but tonight I’ve got kind of a date with the big bodybuilder that helped me out a couple of times. I don’t really see that going anywhere but I just can’t help but like him and his dad, he’s quite a character, old Rufus.”

“I see,” she said, in a somewhat disapproving tone. “You be sure to be careful out there today, keep an eye on where you are and who’s around. You just can’t be too careful, especially considering the problem you had with those young punks.”

She offered a goodbye to Mrs. Muir, pledging that she would look over her shoulder often, stay close to crowds, and avoid running in unfamiliar areas. She certainly didn’t want another run-in with Mikey and crew. She generally tried to keep her run to about 30 minutes, especially on workdays, but today she wanted to take her time and enjoy the warm weather and the sun beating down on her.

Lester finally got what he was waiting for. Blanche bounded down the few steps of the home and stood near the sidewalk, retrieving something from the small pack she had tightly run around her waist. He reached for the camera and looked to either side of the van before bringing it up and snapping off a few pictures of the beauty across the street. Man, she was striking, even in track gear, her hair pulled back and no makeup. He loved the look of the tight stretchy material covering and caressing her smooth skin, and he yearned to run his hand over the fabric, reminding himself that patience was a virtue. Lester watched the jogger applying something, probably sunscreen, to her nose, leaving it white and reflective in the sunlight.

Blanche considered her options before she crossed the street and began moving the sidewalk underneath her at a slow, steady pace, her strides putting one foot in each cement slab. Children were already out playing in the yards and a soccer game was underway in a field not far from the corner where she’d make her first turn. A grayish, almost silver van hugged the curb ahead and the warning from Mrs. Muir rang in her ears when she noted a man sitting behind the wheel, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and a magazine held much too close to his face to actually be reading it. She laughed to herself, shaking her head, reading so much into little things. Really, what were the odds that The Stalker would be sitting on her street, and for what reason, nothing here that would interest him and it’s the wrong area of the county.