picture it & write/Partners



The constant drip of water woke me from my slumber, disoriented. Its melodic patter the only sound I heard.   I sat in a wooden chair with a tall back and arm rests as the feeling of vastness engulfed me. The smell of rust and mildew filled my nostrils while the metallic taste of my blood trickled down my throat. The stale rag across my mouth caused me to gag; cutting my lips and made my jaw throb with pain. I couldn’t see because my head was covered or move, my restrained limbs. My world was darkness, motionless vulnerability. The unknown filled every sense with dread, choked me in unimagined terrors. I knew I was dead, if I couldn’t escape this place.

I’m a cop. The task force had set a trap for a serial murder at the Watering Hole club. My partner of three years got a tip that the Blue Tear killer took his victims from that place. The press coined our perpetrator The Blue Tear Killer because he left his victims with a single blue tear on their cheek. Since I fit the pert’s MO, Brass suggested I play the role of victim.

 “Don’t worry,” my partner, Van Evans said. “I want let anyone touch you.” I trusted my partner.

“If you didn’t trust your partner you are dead in this line of work,” Dad told me when he realized he couldn’t talk me out of joining the family business.  I cut my first teeth on hand guns and self-defense classes so he knew I was ready. But given I was his only daughter I understood his concern.

I went into the club that night with another undercover officer and played my part as a vulnerable woman looking for a good time. This wasn’t my first murder case; I had worked a few and knew the routine, but Van decided he should tag along just in case to be another set of eyes and ears bass agreed.

I keep in touch with my partner on the two-way while trying to look the part of a victim. It was around midnight when I caught the eye of a man that fit the general description of our pert. He was tall, good looking, and smooth.

The profilers said our killer would be neat, intelligent and overly protective of women he found desirable. He would seem normal, the guy next door type, but if provoked would quickly display the temperament of his deranged mind.  The killer had a general knowledge of the city, doing his killing in abandon buildings where no one could hear the women screams.

I assessed the handsome man in front of me, he looked normal, but what would happen if I provoked him?  He offered to buy me a drink and I accepted, but keep a watchful to see if he would slip something into my drink.  Toxic screens from each victim showed that a sedative was used on the women.

 An hour passed and nothing happened. I began to think this wasn’t our guy. Then we got the call that they found a woman up town with similar markings. Brass decided it was time to close shop, so we shut down the operation.  I excused myself from the handsome man and meet up with Van at the front door so we could head back to the station and fill out paper work. I was ready to get out of those party clothes and back into my comfortable street gear.

Van grabbed my arm to lead me out the door and I jerked out of it. “I don’t need your help partner!”   From the moment I became Van’s partner he’s tried to help or protect me. In this line of work, that spelled trouble. If I couldn’t hold my weight then I was useless to my partner. Eight years on the force I have never let my partner down. Last week a guy whistled at me and Van nearly locked him up for disorderly conduct.

“I parked out back,” Van said a bit pissed, once we were outside the club. I didn’t think anything about him parking in the back of the club.  Van has always prudent I guess he thought it was best just in case we needed to get to it fast.

I should have been on guard, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. I got into the car, and the next thing I remember, I woke up here, wherever here was.

I heard footsteps in the distance and my heart contracted. I grabbed the armrest as the sound grew louder and closer.  We didn’t see what was right in front of our eyes, I certainly didn’t. Van matched the pert in every way even down to the careful way he had tied my hands.  Perhaps this time he was too prudent.

“Time to wake up Irene,” Van said standing over me. When he removed the hood from my head I was blind for a few moments.  When my sight came, his handsome face glared into mine and for the first time I saw who Van really was. His eyes sparkled with madness. “Time to play partner.”

“I’m game,” I said with a smirk. My hand came up so fast that Van didn’t have time to react. Now my right cross isn’t as strong as my left, but I nailed him right on the sweet spot, his chin. I knocked Van out cold with one blow, just like Joe Frazier. Dad would be so proud.

Although I couldn’t see, I could feel. Van knew I had studied the knots he used on the other women he killed, even devised a way out, so he used a different knot with me. Unfortunately for him it wasn’t as secure and as a result I could work my hand loses, given time and a layer of skin.  My partner kept me waiting for hours which prove to be his undoing and my means of escape.

Copyright © 2013 Glynis Rankin


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