Kevin O'Brien - One Last Scream

Amelia sighed. “I’m sorry, Karen. I don’t want it.”

“Well, can I-can I fix you something else?” She put down her spoon. “I have the sauce right there. How about some hot chocolate?”

“No, thanks.” Amelia stared down at Rufus, and patted his head. “God, I’m so screwed up. You know, for a while, you had me convinced I couldn’t have hurt my parents and Ina. And for the last few months, I actually thought I didn’t have anything to do with Collin’s death. But now, with this Koehler business, it brings everything back again. And the weirdest part about it is, I still don’t really remember him. It’s more like I dreamt about him or something. And I still feel like I was in Port Angeles yesterday. Talk about fouled up.”

“Remember our first session?” Karen asked. “You told me about your blackouts and that time Shane saw you in a car with some other man. Shane confronted you pretty much the same way I asked you about Koehler. I started to describe him, and then you remembered.”

Amelia nodded.

“Do you recall who Shane saw you with? Can you describe him to me now?”

She grimaced. “God, I’ve been trying to forget him. I don’t like thinking about that time.”

“Please, it’s important,” Karen said.

“His name’s Blade,” Amelia muttered, absently gazing down at the glass tabletop. “At least that’s what he calls himself. He’s twenty-five. His hair’s cut short with little bangs and he’s dyed it jet-black. He wears sunglasses a lot, even at night, sometimes.”

“Then you still know him?” Karen asked.

Amelia looked up at her. “Still know who?”

“Blade.” Karen let out an exasperated little laugh. “The man Shane saw you with in the car that time. You were talking like you still know him.”

“Well, I don’t-”

“Is he a friend of a friend’s?”

Biting her lip, Amelia nodded. “I think so. He must be. I guess that’s how I know about him.”

Karen reached over and patted her arm. “Amelia, do you remember running down a gray stairwell to a basement? This happened recently. There’s a boiler, and it’s making all sorts of racket. Down the hall is a large storage room full of boxes and old hospital equipment. Blade is waiting there for you. The lights on the ceiling are broken, and the place is dark. You’re down there with Blade…”

Amelia yanked her arm away. “Karen, please…”

Startled, Karen recoiled a bit. Even Rufus backed away from her.

“I’m sorry,” Amelia murmured, her voice cracking. “Could you just- chill for a few minutes? I’m so worn out and frazzled and tired. I really don’t want to talk about this now. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine,” Karen said. She nodded at the bowl in front of Amelia. Most of the ice cream had melted. “You sure you don’t want any of that?”

Amelia just shook her head.

Getting to her feet, Karen collected both bowls and took them to the sink. She rinsed them out, and watched the chocolate sauce swirl down the drain.

“I just want to go to sleep and not think about anything for a while,” Amelia said. “This is one of those nights when I used to drink until I’d passed out so I didn’t have to worry or think about anything. Karen, you don’t have any sleeping pills, do you?”

Karen switched off the water. She turned, and gave Amelia a patient, understanding smile. “You know, I think I might.”

Ina McMillan was the name on the address label on the old Vanity Fair he’d fished out of the recycling bin in front of the house. That was the aunt, the one she’d shot in the chest. Aunt Ina.

He’d been to the house in Bellingham twice, and to their weekend retreat on Lake Wenatchee several times. But Blade hadn’t been to this place in West Seattle until tonight. It was a Craftsman-style house at the end of a cul-de-sac. He’d parked the Cadillac a little further up the block. Through the open curtains in the living room, he could see all the way back to the kitchen. Now that he knew whose place it was, he could attach a name to the tall guy he’d seen going in and out of the kitchen. That was Uncle George. And the two brats were her cousins.

She hadn’t told him whose place it was. She’d just given him the address, and told him to go check it out. He was supposed to give the place the once-over, because he had to do a job for her there tomorrow. Blade figured it would be a robbery, but he never knew with her.

She hadn’t told him exactly what kind of job yet. She would call him on his cell at eleven o’clock, and then let him know. She was kind of a tease that way. She made a game of everything. He liked that about her, but it could also drive him nuts at times. Sex with her was always a game, and it was fantastic. Blade always felt the crazier a woman was, the better the sex. And this one was crazy .

He’d checked the windows around the McMillan house. They were about seven feet above ground level, but he could use one of the trash cans or recycling bins to boost himself up and break in. Besides the front door, there was another door off the kitchen in back. In the bushes by the front stoop, there was a little sign for some home security service-no surprise. But he knew how to dismantle those stupid security alarms.

He glanced at his wristwatch: 10:50. Even though the cul-de-sac wasn’t well lit, Blade put his sunglasses back on. She said they made him look cool. She also liked the shiny black suit he wore practically everywhere. He sometimes enjoyed posing in front of the mirror wearing his sunglasses and his trademark black suit, brandishing his guns. She took a bunch of pictures of him posing like that.

Tucking the Vanity Fair under his arm, Blade strolled back to his car. He sat in the front seat. He could still see the McMillan house from here, but his eyes grew tired and he closed them for a spell.

Funny about that corpse in the woods. He was supposed to have buried the guy last night. She’d even left trail markers for him. But after driving to the park, he just didn’t fucking feel like doing all that work. Plus those woods were full of wild animals.

So this morning, she was all over his ass for slacking off. And so he drove back to the park late this afternoon. He’d brought along a small shovel she’d gotten at some army-navy surplus store. He hadn’t exactly been looking forward to burying a decayed stiff. But the notion of possibly encountering-and shooting-some forest creatures suddenly intrigued him.

Well, he didn’t find any forest creatures, but the stiff sure did. What was left of the guy was covered with crows when he’d found him. Blade puked twice as he dragged the stinking, picked-over corpse to a ditch off the marked trail. He didn’t have to dig much to make the shallow oblong hole. With the shovel, he quickly covered him with a layer of dirt, then scattered some leaves and branches over that.

He was headed back to the car when he’s spotted Amelia’s shrink making her way along the trail. There was no mistaking it. She was looking for the dead guy.

It had been kind of fun, chasing her, and scaring the crap out of her. Of course, killing her would have been even more fun, and so easy. He’d had his heart set on killing something in that forest.

But he’d had his instructions not to touch her. She wasn’t supposed to die in those woods. No, that was happening later.

His cell phone rang, startling him. Blade reached inside his suit-jacket pocket, pulled out the cell and switched it on. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” she whispered. “Are you at the address I gave you?”

“Yeah, and I’m sitting in the car, parked down the street. But I can see the place from here. I even figured out who lives there. Uncle George, right?”