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“Don’t judge me! Everyone has their fantasies,” she screamed, slapping her palms on the desk. “I know men like you. I know you’ve watched pornography. Watched men shoving things into women that don’t belong. You’ve watched gang bangs, wondering what it would feel like! Don’t you judge me!”
“You’re wrong,” said Baptiste. “I don’t enjoy watching those things at all. I love my wife and the relationship we have in the bedroom, but I don’t ever force anything on her, or in her. Whatever your experience with men has been, you need to get help, or you’re going to end up in serious trouble.”
“You all knew about this?” asked Otto to the other three. They all nodded.
“She had to tell us because he was threatening the agency,” said the man. His nameplate said he was Daniel.
“And you thought it was okay to ignore it? You thought it was okay to not encourage her to get help?” asked Pork. They just stared at him, not saying anything. He just shook his head, taking the sheet of paper with the names. “If they’re not at this address, we’ll be back. When we come back, we’ll be bringing help. Get your shit together, lady. Because if I come back here and know that you’re still doing what you do, I’ll kill you.”
Pork turned, quickly leaving the building as the four people began to shake and cry. Otto stared at them, then shook his head, not having anything to say.
“What you’re doing is unnatural,” said Baptiste. “You know it’s wrong. Find some help.”
Back in the SUV, Pork couldn’t even start the vehicle. They sat there for a moment, then Otto tapped his arm.
“At least kick on the a/c, brother. I’m sweating here,” he said quietly. Pork nodded, starting the car.
“I never thought that’s what we’d find,” he said, shaking his head. “I never expected – I mean, I never dreamed that someone did things like that.”
“There are a lot of sick people out there, Pork. We know it. We’ve seen it. We’re not the kind of men and women that can fathom doing anything like this, but it doesn’t mean there aren’t people who don’t engage in shit like this.”
“If we go back and find out she’s still doing it,” said Otto, “I’m going to end it. It’s sick.”
“I agree, brother. For now, let’s find this address,” said Baptiste.
The disturbing admission of what Frances was doing with animals had the men shaken. They knew that bestiality existed, and there were people who participated in it. Hell, the boys at the bases near Mexico used to joke about going to the donkey shows, watching as women did unspeakable things with donkeys.
But their primary mission at this point was to find the four men.
“The address is in Gretna,” said Pork. “A building off 9th Street.”
Driving in silence, they wanted to talk but weren’t sure what to say. It made them sick to think about what the woman was doing. Everything about it was unnatural and wrong.
They parked a few streets over and walked around the blocks, twisting and turning to avoid suspicion. When they reached the address, they spotted the white truck that the boy at the small lake had seen.
“Apartment C,” said Otto, looking at the other two men. They both seemed stuck in place. “Hey. Are you guys okay? Forget that shit back there. We’ll go back and be sure things are made right. For now, let’s get these guys.”
“I’m good,” said Pork.
“Same,” said Baptiste.
Moving to the back of the small complex, they recognized that C was on the second floor. With one small wooden staircase to the door, there was only one way up and one way down.
As quietly as possible, Pork made his way up the stairs, standing to the side of the door. Baptiste was behind him. Otto at the bottom. They could hear loud music blaring, something heavy metal. Holding up three fingers, Pork slowly counted down. At one, he broke down the door, catching the occupant by surprise.
“Hey! Hey, what the hell!” yelled the man. Pork held his weapon on the man while Baptiste searched the other rooms.
“Clear,” he said.
“Where are your friends?” asked Pork.
“What? Who the hell are you?”
“We’re your worst nightmare,” said Otto, stepping inside and closing the door. He turned off the music, opening the windows to let the stench filter out. “Where are your friends? Killing more puppies?”
Now, the man was nervous. He scooted back on the sofa, shaking his head. The smell of marijuana permeated every corner of the apartment. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts lay around the room.
“You’re not getting your deposit back on this dump,” frowned Pork. “Answer my friend. Where are they?”
