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“I’ll be alive no matter what.”
“Wow, you really are slow and stupid,” laughed Hex. “Londyn said you were a pathetic, small dick, stupid Mexican.”
“I’m going to kill her. After I make her pay. Again.”
Laughter filtered through the phone as Hex, Luke, Cam, and Eric laughed at him. They could hear his crazed screams, then the other men begging him to calm down.
“Well, it sounds like you have your hands full, Frisco Cisco,” smirked Hex. “Remember, you only have until midnight tonight. Then you turn into a big old pumpkin. Oh, just in case, midnight means the big hand and little hand are pointed straight up at the number twelve. That’s a one and a two next to each other.”
The line went dead, and the men sobered, staring at one another.
“You might have pushed one too many buttons, Hex,” said Luke, shaking his head.
“Hey, guys,” said Sly. “We’ve got a leasing company that just called into NOPD. Said they’d rented a house in Mid-Cities to a man over the phone. He gave the full deposit and one month’s rent in cash. This morning they went to check on the property, and it was a mess. Bloody furniture, blood on the floors, the smell of decay. I think we found his hiding place.”
The RP men nodded at the NOPD officers as they walked into the house. HG scanned the living room, seeing the blood-soaked wood floor. One of the officers waved at him to go out back. Inside the garage, the sofa smelled of death.
HG stared at it, knowing that this was where Sheila had been brutalized.
“Any DNA?” he asked the forensics team.
“Tons!” said the older woman. “This guy wasn’t attempting to hide a damn thing. I’ve got at least two different samples of semen. At least three different blood types. Hair, skin, nails, you name it.”
“Thanks, Trudy. Let us know when you have everything.”
HG walked back into the house to see Ethan, Kiel, Griff, and Carl talking to the officers. Upstairs, the scene wasn’t much better, but it was the smell coming from the pantry that had them all afraid to open the doors.
At least six dogs were inside. All in various states of decay. Huge flies hovered above the carcasses as the men all fought back the urge to gag. Animal control took each dog, laying it inside a white bag and carrying it out to the truck.
“I’m not sure who this maniac is, Carl,” said the detective, “but we need to stop him.”
“We know who he is,” he said, looking at the man. “Cisco Perez. The warrant went out two nights ago for him. He must have known the owners of the home would come around today and either ask for another month’s rent or ask him to leave.”
“I’d say they were lucky he wasn’t here,” said the detective, looking around the home. Once an elegant turn-of-the-century home, it would now have to undergo massive cleaning and renovation in order to make it habitable.
“Hey, Carl?” called HG. “Come see this.”
Stuffed behind the cushion of one of the smaller chairs in the living room was a note, hurriedly scratched out on a New Orleans postcard.
“Crazy. Looking for more. Stop him.” The men stared at one another, then turned to stare at the carnage.
“Damn.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“We’re going to find her, and then we’re going to get the fuck out of here,” said Cisco. “I know that bitch is close. I want another woman. Now!”
“Cisco, maybe this is too much,” said Tony. The man turned, wide-eyed, staring at him. “Listen, I just think you have to try and move on from Londyn. She’ll never consent to be your wife, and if she’s already engaged to someone, then what does this matter?”
“What does it matter? She’s mine! She’s my fucking property, and no one takes my property. No one!”
“She’s not your property,” whispered Tony.
“What did you say?” frowned Cisco.
“I said, she’s not your property. People cannot be owned. I should have known that long before now. Whatever deal your father and my father had is done. I’m not your slave any longer, Cisco. I can’t be bought.” He stood from the worn chair in the tiny motel room. Berto swallowed, watching as his friend bravely defied Cisco.
“You think you can walk out on me?”
