Genre: Horror/Mystery
DRAGONFLY
By
Daniel Skye
PART
TEN: THE FIFTH MAN
Friday,
November 7th, 2008.
Satan appears in many unassuming forms.
Kirk
Warwick got that one right.
His
words echoed through Richie Carter’s head, playing like an insipid song on a
continuous loop.
The
case wasn’t closed yet. Not as far as Richie was concerned.
There
were still two major unanswered questions.
One:
Who dropped the tape in Jamie Reynolds’ bag on Halloween?
Two:
Who was the fifth man involved with that tape? Somebody was holding that
camera, and Richie was going to find out who.
Warwick
had mumbled something about a cherry red convertible. And it struck a chord
with Richie. Why did that vehicle sound so familiar? He’d seen one recently.
But where? He couldn’t recall at the moment.
But
he exactly knew where to start in regards to the first question.
Mackenzie
Matthews worked for Fenton Meeks. She was the last one to see Fenton alive. She
also had knowledge about the tape. And she was the only one left to question.
Fenton,
Mac Wilson, Kirk Warwick, Dolph Hendricks, Nico and Dominic Cirico were all out
of the picture. If anyone was going to have the answers, it’d be Mackenzie.
* * *
Richie
found Mackenzie down at the Dorchester Pool Hall. She had just finished up her
shift.
“Someone
told me I’d find you down here,” Richie said. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Her
eyelashes fluttered. She was used to men of all ages hitting on her, offering
to buy her drinks. She knew just how to react. “Sure, why not?” she shrugged.
She
was a young woman, just over twenty-one. She had sandy blonde hair and a slim,
hourglass figure. Her silver, crescent shaped glowed under the fluorescent
lights. That night, she was wearing a black mini dress, fishnets, and knee high
boots.
“I
know I look like a hooker,” she said and chuckled. “But it helps with tips.”
They
sat at the bar and Richie ordered a shot and a brew for himself. Mackenzie ordered
a vodka and cranberry and Richie put twenty down on the bar, told the bartender
to keep the change.
“What
brought you to this place?” Richie asked.
“Had
to a find a new job after what happened to Fenton,” Mackenzie told him. “Joker’s
Pub is closed indefinitely. I think the bank owns the lease. I’m sure they’ll
find a buyer. Maybe then I can have my old job back.”
“I’m
sorry all of this had to happen. But I really need to know how this all started.
I need to know how that tape ended up in a little girl’s bag of Halloween
candy. Do you have any theories on that?”
“Are
you suggesting I had something to do with it?”
“Not
at all. It sounds more like you’re suggesting it by jumping to that conclusion.
I told you to be honest with me the first time around. I warned you, didn’t I?
You know what’s going to happen if I tell my brother you held out on me, on
him? What information do you have, Mackenzie? You worked for Fenton Meeks long
enough. You must know something else.”
“Nadia
Sanborn was a sweet girl,” Mackenzie sobbed. “She didn’t deserve that. I did
what I had to do to see her killers brought to justice.”
“What
the hell did you do, Mackenzie?”
“I
knew the combination to Fenton’s safe. I had it memorized. So one night, I went
into his office and swiped the tape and made a copy of my own. Then I put the
tape back the next day. He never suspected a thing. I didn’t put the tape in
that girl’s bag. I didn’t have the nerve to do it so my boyfriend did it for
me. But I put him up to it. It was all my idea. I told him it didn’t matter who
got the tape as long as it ended up in somebody’s hands. I knew any sane,
rational person would take it right to the police.”
“You
traumatized that poor little girl,” Richie chided. “She’s never going to be the
same.”
“I
never wanted that to happen,” Mackenzie said, still sobbing. “I just wanted to
help, I swear.”
“Mackenzie,
we know who killed Nadia. It was Mac Wilson, Kirk Warwick, Nico and Dominic
Cirico. We know Fenton lent them the girl. And now we know where the tape came
from. But we still don’t know who filmed it. If you know, now’s the time to
tell me.”
“I
don’t,” she said with conviction. “I swear. People like Mac and Nico, they
didn’t have many friends. I don’t know who else could’ve been there with them.
But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad they’re all dead. And I hope you find
whoever else was involved. Nadia deserved justice.”
“And
justice is what she’s going to get,” Richie assured her.
* * *
Saturday,
November 8th, 2008.
Richie
stopped by Mitch Calloway’s office that day. Mitch was a claims manager for
Vanacore Insurance and often employed Richie to sniff out phony claims. He had
saved the company a fortune over the years.
Richie
was looking for work, but he had an ulterior motive. Richie had called Mitch
not too long ago for information on the case. And when he inquired about David
Cirico, Mitch ended their call rather abruptly.
He
was holding something back. Richie could see it the minute he walked into his
office. He was nervous, fidgeting in his chair behind his desk.
“I’m
sorry, Richie,” Mitch said. “But I really have nothing for you right now.
Things have been slow. I’ll call you when I have more work for you.”
“I’m
not just here about that,” Richie told him. “I want to know about David
Cirico.”
Mitch
bit his upper lip. His muscles tensed. “What about him?”
“I
want to know where to find him.”
“Do
you know who David Cirico is? Who he was?”
“I’m
fully aware.”
“Then
you should know he’s not a man to fuck with.”
“A
girl named Nadia Sanborn was tortured, raped, and murdered. It was all caught
on film. I have reason to believe Cirico might’ve been involved. And I won’t
rest until I know the truth.”
“David
Cirico isn’t David Cirico anymore. He goes by the name David Bennett. He owns a
marina out in Fairview. Our company insures his business. And we don’t ask any
questions. He keeps a low profile, runs a legitimate business now. And we don’t
want any trouble from him.”
“Trust
me, he won’t be giving you any trouble. Not when I’m finished with him.”
* * *
Cherry
red convertible.
Warwick’s
words made sense now.
Richie
had seen a cherry red convertible parked beside the stationary trailer when he
visited Bennett’s Marina in search of Mac Wilson. Wilson had a boat docked
there. It was all coming together now.
So
Richie took a drive out to Fairview that afternoon and saw the same cherry red
convertible parked outside the same stationary trailer that David Cirico sold
bait and tackle out of. Even if he had gone straight, even if he had left his
old life behind, that didn’t change a thing. Warwick had all but confirmed his
involvement with the tape.
David
Cirico was the man behind the camera.
Richie
entered the trailer and found Cirico behind the counter. He didn’t seem to
remember Richie at all. But his expression changed when he saw the jar tucked
under Richie’s arm.
“You
know, that girl was beautiful,” Richie said. “She had her whole life ahead of
her. She could have had a real future. But you and your sons took that away
from her.”
“Do
I know you?” Cirico played innocent.
“No,
but you’re sure as hell going to remember me this time around.”
He
placed the jar on the counter. The dragonfly danced around the top of the jar,
circling the perforated lid. Jut the sight of it made Cirico’s blood run cold.
“Does
the name The Outsider mean anything to you?”
“Warwick,”
Cirico whispered.
“I
have to know, how the hell did your sons get hooked up with a guy like that?”
“We
were old friends. We knew each other since we were kids. He was a good man, but
he made a lot of bad choices.”
“Look
who’s talking,” Richie said, rolling his eyes.
“What
do you want? Money? Name your price.”
“I
don’t want your blood money. All I ever wanted from the beginning was justice.
Your sons are dead. Mac Wilson is dead. Kirk Warwick is dead. Fenton Meeks is
dead. That just leaves you.”
“So,
what? You’re going to kill me?” Cirico laughed just at the thought. “You’re
going to turn me in to the police? Do you have any idea what my people would do
to you?”
“I’m
not going to kill you. And I’m not going to turn you in. I’m not even a cop.
I’m just a lowly private detective who has seen a lot of crazy shit these past
few days. But nothing compares to what waits for you inside this jar.”
Richie
unscrewed the perforated lid and the dragonfly flew out from the jar, landing
on Cirico’s shoulder.
“When
you bite the devil,” Richie quoted Warwick verbatim, “The devil bites back.”
He
exited the trailer and waited until he heard the unmistakable screams. They
were piercing, but brief. It was over in a matter of minutes.
Richie
hoped now that Nadia Sanborn could finally rest in peace.
He
left the marina with ambivalent emotions. He had brought Nadia’s killers to
justice, but still had could not process the mystery of the dragonfly. There
are certain things in this world we just weren’t meant to understand. And the
dragonfly was one of them. But that didn’t stop Richie from pondering.
“Baby
Blue” by Badfinger was playing on the radio and Richie turned up the volume to
drown out his own thoughts. Yet the words of Warwick still echoed in the back
of his mind.
Satan appears in many unassuming forms.
No comments:
Post a Comment