Chapter four
It wasn’t easy making my way through the snow. I didn’t want to leave any sign of being on his property. Mother Nature was taking care of that. Each step was covered by the very thick flakes falling from the sky. It was a dismal evening, but there was something magical like a winter wonderland exposed in front of me.
I had to clear out a path around the window that was boarded over. The snow was fluffy and was easy to move with only my hands and my boots. The kitchen light gave me enough to see what I was doing. I had a hammer and I used the claw to pull off a couple of boards before realizing there was no way I was going to get through without removing them all.
It was rather time-consuming. I was mildly worried that he was going to wake up to find me missing. I couldn’t risk getting caught in the act, but I had come too far to go back. The answers were so close that I could almost taste them.
The shards were removed by a handyman to prevent any unnecessary injuries when they finally got around to replacing the windowpane. I had seen him working from my window in the attic. He had no idea I was watching him scratch his ass.
I had a flashlight in my teeth and I was wiggling my way through the frame. It was a tight fit, but I managed. I was thankful that I wasn’t prone to gaining holiday weight. My metabolism was fast and I could practically eat whatever I wanted and not gain an ounce.
Supper was simmering and nothing was going to be burned by the time I came back. I was definitely working up an appetite by taxing muscles I didn’t even know I had. I was going to feel this in the morning. I was hoping I would have another reason to stretch out my sore muscles after we finished playing a bit of mattress tag.
I found a shelf and it was attached to the wall making it into a makeshift ladder. I climbed down careful not to spill any of the contents of the jars. They did rattle, but that was unavoidable. My only saving grace was the resident was across the street not aware of my presence.
I got my feet firmly on the cement floor and I looked around to see that he was using his basement the same way I was. The family must have used it as storage when they had their summer outings. It took a moment to find the door leading to the rest of the house. It was as if the door was made to mimic the very wall of the basement.
I came out in the kitchen and the design of the house was primarily the same as mine with drastic cosmetic differences. The kitchen had been renovated with Stainless Steel Appliances and a new marble counter. There were boxes everywhere. He must’ve sent them earlier when I was busy with the art gallery owner.
I opened a couple of them and found women’s clothing in various sizes. I immediately envisioned some kind of serial killer taking trophies after he had killed his victims. They were classic from the era of Marilyn Monroe. The pieces would have made anybody looking to capture the old days quite happy to find a treasure like this one.
The next couple of boxes were more of the same with the last one containing most of what the kitchen was going to need to function. There were many knives. They gleamed in the beam of the flashlight. He did mention about being somewhat of a good cook. I didn’t want him to interfere in my kitchen, but it might’ve been interesting to see what we could have conjured up without getting physical.
The furniture was covered with white sheets and underneath the price tag on each individual item was quite extravagant. There wasn’t a layer of dust even along the window and door frames. It was quite something for him not to complain about how my home measured up to his. He had only moved in, but he was anal in his cleaning routine.
I stumbled over a couple of other boxes and stubbed my toe. I slapped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from screaming. There was no possible way he could hear me, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. I worked my way around those boxes. I could see with the flashlight illuminating them where they were sitting. There seemed to be no method to his unpacking.
The clothing had me understandably upset, but there was nothing concrete to determine he was a homicidal maniac. There was still the second floor including the two bathrooms to check before I went to the attic.
From my vantage point in the bathroom, I could see him still aglow by the fire. He wasn’t moving. The liquor had numbed his senses and left him pretty much useless in the bedroom. A couple of hours of shut-eye would hopefully rejuvenate his spirit and give him the stamina to go the distance.
I couldn’t believe I was actually thinking about sleeping with him. It seemed unfathomable considering everything I had learned. It wasn’t enough to shut down my libido from craving something more than my finger.
The bathroom was pristine with a sunken tub and a walk-in shower made from part of the huge living room closet. It was actually a good use of space.
His medicine cabinet was void of anything except for a first aid kit. There were no toiletries and I didn’t find anything in any box to indicate there was going to be any. The white motif was making me shake my head in disbelief. Wait long enough and the old ways would come back. Clothing from the seventies was making a comeback and architectural designs from that era were slowly gaining acceptance.
I tried to think like a deranged murderer and my footsteps led me up the stairs to the master bedroom with a bathroom made from the dreams of any woman. This huge Jacuzzi tub was elevated to take advantage of the view of the lake. There was room enough for four people.
His bedroom was only a bed and a mattress. There was a set of sheets which he had neglected to put on in his haste to come over to see me. I was about to put them on for him, but he would see it as an invasion of his personal space.
I opened up the closet with a sigh of relief to see it was empty. I knew where my search was going to lead me. The only place left to search was the attic. The fresh scuff marks on the stairs gave me a good indication he had been there recently.
I made my way up cautiously holding onto the railing until the light bulb swinging from the ceiling came on. There must’ve been some kind of motion detector. It would’ve been nice to have in my studio. I couldn’t remember how many times I had stumbled in the dark cursing underneath my breath. This ingenious device would have saved me endless hours of misery.
There were four garbage bags carefully secured. I put the light on top of a shelf angling it in a way that I could see what I was doing. I sat there looking at these bags seeing the body parts of his many victims in my mind. I couldn’t bring myself to open them. It had to be done, but my hands were frozen and my heart literally stopped in my chest.
Time meant nothing when the reality of what was in those bags was staring me in the face. I still had plausible deniability for however long it took me to open one of the bags. I could hear the storm and the sound of the house settling with the wind blowing things around in the storm.
I got up and paced the floor with the flashlight displaying shadows on the wall. We had barely gotten to know each other and already I was about to accuse him of a heinous crime. It was disconcerting how fast I was willing to jump to conclusions.” I kept staring at these bags willing one of them to break open without me having to do any of the work. It wasn’t going to happen unless I made it happen.
I was thinking of the man sitting by my fire. He didn’t make any alarm bells go off, but the grisly sight of the hand in the garbage bag was still haunting me. It made me wary of getting close without knowing the partner I was going to share my bed with.
There was no way I could justify walking away from the mystery without uncovering the gory details. I had to believe there was a reasonable explanation.
I walked around each bag and kicked them hoping they were going to be light enough to go flying across the room. It was my bad luck that they were heavy and could easily contain a discovery worthy of putting me into a catatonic state. I would be found and safely hidden away from the world in a padded cell rocking back and forth in the fetal position.
I fell into the Lotus position with the flashlight in my hand going over each individual portion of each garbage bag. I took a deep breath and dug my nails into the very first bag. It was industrial strength but was no match for my polished and sharpened fingernails.
It tore open and all of these arms and legs fell out. There was this deep seated scream in my mouth, but I was unable to voice my displeasure.
It was somewhat disturbing to be surrounded by body parts. I had seen my fair share of television shows dedicated to serial killers to know when I was in the presence of one. He didn’t mimic any of the characteristics. He was quite personable and was charming in his own misguided way. He didn’t seem to be suffering from any kind of performance anxiety.
I heard footsteps, but I wasn’t able to move quickly enough before he was climbing the stairs with his heavy boots making me cringe with each step.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I looked up to find Jonathan holding my gaze. I was going to be his next victim callously disregarded like another piece of trash.