Chapter Two

Tatum1

I watched silently as each heiress was taken. I’d know the pattern even before the last girl was found. These men weren’t after a ransom; they were killing the daughters of the most powerful men in Baltic City, and none to gently either. I guess I could have told the police my ideas; saved Brittany, Jennifer, and Alicia from their fates but to be truthful: them bitches got what they deserved. After years of looking down on people, causing others hell, and still reaping benefits they needed to be erased like the disease they were. 2

I assumed some of their enemies had gotten together and made a fool proof plan. Or maybe Brittany was the first, and a bunch of copy cats followed. Either way everyone one and no one saw it coming. All three had been killed with in two weeks. The cops were baffled by their different locations. The only key was that all three girls had been raped, throats slit, and mutilated. All three killings were executed in different ways. But like I said, I saw the connection. Brittany was found at the Lodge, Jennifer on the beach, and Alicia in her flat. Each was placed back where they had gone missing and each had been a place of power.3

I can’t count the numerous of parties, soirées, and bashes I’d been grudgingly invited to over the years, that took place at one of each location. It was were their courts met and convened, where they took their many boy toys for a fling, or sent a poor soul with false information for a good laugh. 4

So maybe no woman should be so brutally killed, I would have settled for just chopping off her head. And no I sad nothing as more were taken and killed for a hidden reason. But secretly I hated them all. Every girl who flitted around spending Daddy’s money and pretending to live the desired life, I hated them. For every girl who looked me up and down and laughed, every one of them who smiled at me when our parents were near but would say a word when they left. But most of all I hated them for what they represented: the girl I would never become.5

My sister, Taylor. She was the prom queen, honor student and field hockey star. She had dated the cousins and older brothers of all the girls I couldn’t stand. Everyone who knew Taylor loved her. Anyone who didn’t know her wished they did. Taylor was like Midas. Everything she did was golden. It was like she lived on in her legacy, haunting me nonstop.6

Like I said, she was more there after her death than she was alive. My therapist said that it was my conscious trying to reconcile Taylor’s death. But I think Cleona said it better. According to the psychic, my sister’s vengeful ghost was pushing me to the truth of her passing. The mystics told me Taylor just wanted to commune with me now that she was free of earthly bonds. Either way, I wasn’t getting the message.7

Now my captors, even before they got to me, were good at communicating. The whole city soon understood the basics of their motives. They were pissed off. They were pissed off at the rich, and were taking it out on the kids. Of course by then it was too late to do anything about it. It had been four weeks after the latest funeral. It seemed that the killers had stopped. But then I stepped out of the house last night. But as far as I know, I was the last one.8

Connor9

It was easy at first. Sure that might make me a bastard, but it was. I think I felt the way the killers in my novels felt. Our reason was justified. How are we supposed to survive with jobs and a house? The damn princess’ wanted to turn our lot into a day spa. A little clubhouse where they could soak and primp and daydream of how fabulous they are! Not a chance. Twelve. Twelve people I followed, planned their kidnap, and redeposit. Twelve people I watched Frank carry in over his shoulder down to the basement. Twelve people I heard screaming when Jimmy finished off the job. Twelve people whom Malachy would never remember, nor thought of as humans. They were “bad ladies”. Twelve people who were given back to their families expressing our discontent. 10

The killings had evolved from just the big boss’ children. Now any heiress in the city was one day closer to her end. In fact we had all but wiped out that whole demographic. There were so many, and the possibility of the fuzz getting wise was more possible with each conquest. We took a break in order to throw them off. But before long Jimmy started to get antsy. We argued about who should be next.11

“Spielbergs. No contest. They’re not too close by.”12

“That’s suicide! And anyway thy don’t even fit the pattern.”13

“All the more reason to do so. The Derricks as well.”14

“They’re daughter is ten!”15

Jimmy frowned clearly not seeing it. “So?”16

“So,” I held out the vowel trying to calm my voice. “She can’t be held responsible. I mean she just repeats what she’s told.”17

“She’ll learn to hate. I don’t wanna give her that chance.”18

I gripped my head. Could he not here himself? All of us were heading toward that point, but Jimmy had clearly jumped over a few stages and was pulling into the neurotic shores. This was my entire fault. I knew his determination was on par. I had to distract him, maybe finish this myself. But…19

“The Dubois. We forgot them. Alan Dubois is the head president of the construction firm. He has a daughter round the right age. And their income is at the right height. Seriously, Jimmy this has gone long enough. Taking it even further is only stupid it’s unconventional.”20

Frank walked in peeling a golden delicious, obviously having been following our conversation from the kitchen. His field knife shaved of a full ring before he brought it to his mouth. Jimmy and I both waited for his opinion. “What?” He looked up to us staring intently at him. “I say do it. One more won’t hurt. But then that’s it.” Jimmy growled and flexed his arms. Frank slapped him across the face hard enough to get his point across and then some. “I said, one more, that’s it.”21

Jimmy punched the wall. His blond spikes were wilted and he wore a normal tee as appose to his muscle shirts. I didn’t look at him for long. I knew he would draw my attention. I calmly finished my milk and looked up. Jimmy was staring dead at me. I looked around a bit in fake wonder. “What?”22

“You know what.”23

I looked away and focused on my glass. I could see Jimmy staring at me. He was deep in thought. My leg began to twitch slightly. James isn’t a big thinker; he’s a kill first, ask questions later guy. But seeing him actually try to use his brain to figure something out is scary.24

“Doesn’t matter. You’re so transparent, I’ll I have to do is wait.” Jimmy stood a walked away solidly. I wasn’t afraid my brother would learn of my hidden agenda. No my fear was far worse. James was the type to draw all the wrong conclusions and those can be far worse than the truth.25