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Jack Collier: Private Eye (Part Fourty)

Jack Collier: Private Eye

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Nine can be found here.

 

 

Chapter Forty: My Man Will Come

 

Alice Liddell’s Diary

 

            “So!” Jack said looking around at the group that surrounded them. “What’s the deal? Why all this?”

 

            “That’s none of your concern.” King said leaning on the thick oak cane his gnarled hand wrapped around. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

 

            “Oh come on.” Jack said, trying to cajole and play with them. “What harm could it possibly do at this point?”

 

            “Mister King said that it’s none of you’re concern.” The thin guy who looked like one of The Proclaimers said. “That means you don’t need to know.”

 

            “Well of course I don’t need to know.” Jack smiled and actually made a little dancing motion. “But I’m curious. Why all of this? To have sex with a couple of girls? Hell, to rape a couple of girls. For twenty bucks you can have a willing girl on Eight Mile.”

 

            “Shut him up Quayle.” King growled as he stabbed at the ground with his cane. “I’m getting tired of listening to him.”

 

            “Throw him off.” Quayle said signaling a few of them.

 

            “Now hang on.” Jack said, grinning and looking over at Debbie for a beat longer than just a glance needed. “I’ll make you a deal.”

 

            “Yes?” Quayle asked.

 

            “I sort of want to know why all of this, I so rarely get anything explained to me. However, I won’t get an answer if I’m forced to kill all of you.”

 

            “What?”

 

            “Give up now, drop this silly behavior and I won’t kill all of you.”

 

            “HA!” the guy who Debbie had said was their employee laughed. “Now that is chutzpah.”

 

            “Okay.” Jack said holding his hands out and performing a little bow. “I tried.”

 

            “Throw him over.” Quayle said.

 

            “I’m going to be pissed when I come back.” Jack said. “I’m going to kill you first Petey.”

 

            With that, he turned and ran towards the cliff. He jumped over the edge and in a second or two there was the sound of bones breaking and Jack gave out a scream. Rocks began to roll down the hill and the scream was cut off suddenly.

 

            My blood froze. Three of them ran towards the hill with their bright halogen flashlights and machine guns in their hands. They looked over the cliff and then started shooting down there. The three of them emptied full clips into the side of the hill and then started commenting to each other how they got him. I wondered for a moment why no one went down to get him. Make sure. I would have gone down there and made sure I’d put a bullet in his head. You need to confirm the kill.

 

            “Bring her.” Red said, aiming the oak cane at Debbie and then pointed the stick of oak at me. “Break her.”

 

            “Can we do it out here sir?” The one Jack called Petey asked him. “It’s more romantic under the stars, you know?”

 

            “Fine.” Red King said and then walked to his truck.       I watched as the group gathered around that terrified little girl.

 

            “You said it would be okay.” She demanded. “You said I could come back and it would be okay.”

 

            “It will be okay.” King told her. “After you’ve been broken, after you’ve given birth to our babies, after I’ve killed you, it’ll all be okay after that.”

 

            King and Quayle got into their big black SUV and drove away with Debbie. Pete grabbed my arm and yanked me almost off my feet, half dragging me toward another of the SUVs they’d driven. He opened the back door and threw me into the back seat. If I hadn’t been so dumb as to think I wouldn’t need a back up weapon I might have been able to grab at something in an ankle holster. I hadn’t thought it would be necessary though. Of course I thought I would have back up, which also didn’t turn out to be true. Someone had gotten inside and had decided to set me up. I just hoped it was a mole from King’s group and not someone getting back at me for being a woman.

 

            “No!” The little girl, Cindy I think her name was, started to scream. “Please! No! Please!”

 

            I turned to see her being dragged by both arms by the men and kicking at the ground trying to get away. Until another two grabbed her by the legs and lifted her by each limb. She continued to kick and scream, but it was clear that they were going to have her way with her. I heard the disgusting laugh of that Pete character again.

 

            “You should watch closely.” He said. “You’re getting it next.”

 

            “Are you insane?” I asked. “I’m a federal officer.”

 

            “You’re a bitch,” He corrected me, “You’re a bitch and you’re going to be broken. Get used to it.”

 

            “You’re fucking insane.”

 

            “Insane?” He laughed his distinctly unpleasant laugh again.

 

            It’s odd what you notice at moments of extreme terror. Just then, the old Monkeys song Daydream Believer started to play on the radio. I noticed that as it started, some part of my mind decided that Daydream Believer was important enough to notice and pay attention to.

 

            “I’ll tell you what’s insane, you little bitch.”

 

            I noticed that the bushes behind him seemed to be moving too much for the wind in the area. That’s great brain. Let’s make calculations about the local meteorological effects. It was probably a raccoon anyway, something like that. Why bother thinking about that when I should be trying to formulate a plan to get away? For that matter, why think about what my mind is choosing to focus on?

 

            “Insane, my little whore to be, is expecting a white knight to come and rescue you.” He grabbed my ankle and rubbed my calf. “Insane is thinking a dead man can do anything to help.”

 

            “You really don’t know him.” I said kicking at him.

 

            “You think Jack Collier’s going to suddenly come back?” He cackled that time.

 

            “You know what?” I asked him. “I do.”

 

            “God, you bitches are stupid.” He said. “We shot him full of holes.”

 

            “Did you actually get a look at his body?” I asked.

 

            “What?”

 

            “Did you confirm your kill?”

 

            “This ain’t some comic book sweet cheeks.” He laughed at me again, and I really wanted to smash his head in every time he did that. “He’s fucking dead.”

 

            “You didn’t confirm your kill.” I said.

 

            “I don’t need to!” He told me. “I know the fucker is dead!”

 

            “You don’t.” I said. “You don’t know him, he’ll come for me.”

 

            “Look cunt!” He snapped. “You’re gonna get fucked to death. So you better just shut up, or it’ll be a lot worse!”

 

            He slammed the door and shouted at me through the glass.

 

            “He ain’t gonna just suddenly come back and save you’re dumb bitch ass.” He might have wanted to say more, but something happened just then that caught his attention.

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