Page 77 of Moonstruck
Asa gave Zane a grin that made him feel both hot and cold. “Remind me when we have time, Lois, and I’ll explain to you what my tattoos really mean.”
He turned away before Zane could question him further. Zane was grateful he had gloves and that had nothing to do with leaving behind fingerprints. It was impossible to move one thing without dislodging a thousand other things. Moving a magazine sent a stack careening onto the floor. Moving a box caused another small avalanche of computer equipment.
Asa gave him an exasperated look.
“What? It’s not like I made the mess,” Zane hissed.
When Zane got to Jerry’s computers, he grimaced. Underneath the desk, behind the mystery jars of liquid, was a shoebox. He gave a low whine as he pulled it towards himself. He’d rather find a half-eaten human heart than a single roach. He was relieved when he didn’t find either. It was a box of newspaper clippings.
He unfolded the first one and stopped short. “Asa,” he said, unable to stop the raw rasp in his voice.
Asa stopped what he was doing and wandered closer. Zane handed him a couple of the slips of paper. “It’s him.”
The clippings were newspaper articles about the suicides, not just at those two schools but at others. High schools. Jesus. Had they even thought about high schools? Had he gone after younger kids, too? Zane couldn’t think about it. There was clearly no end to his depravity. It wasn’t just newspaper clippings of the stories. There were obituaries. Funeral programs. The fucker had attended their funerals.
Asa kissed the top of his head. “Good find. Photograph as many as you can with the camera phone I gave you, then put them back exactly as you found them. He strikes me as being the kind of person who likes to go back and revisit his crimes.”
Asa continued to rummage around softly behind him until the silence was broken by another rockslide of items making a small clatter. This time, CDs in clear holders. They were unlabeled. Zane watched as Asa opened his bag and placed them inside. “What are you doing? I thought we were supposed to look, not touch.”
“Nobody hides a bunch of unlabeled DVDs unless there’s something he doesn’t want people looking too closely at. I’m taking a calculated risk.”
“Does that mean we can—”
There was the creaking of hinges, and then a sharp feminine voice said, “Jerry? Did you come home from work without even saying hello?”
Zane’s heart rate skyrocketed, but Asa just held a finger to his lips and shook his head, cool and calm as always.
“You’re hearing things,” a gruff voice called from deeper within the house. “I’m telling you, you’re getting senile.”
“Oh, hush. I definitely heard something,” she said.
“Probably a rat,” the gruff man shot back.
A rat? Zane shot a panicked look at Asa, eyes wide. Did they have rats down there? Zane hated rats more than roaches. Shit. Finally, the door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. Asa nodded towards the window, and Zane eagerly complied, letting Asa boost him up so he could wiggle out. Asa followed, needing no help from Zane whatsoever.
Zane didn’t start breathing again until they were back in the truck and out of Jerry’s neighborhood. He peeled the mask off his face. “I… Yeah, I hated that. I donotwant to be a field reporter. Give me the highlight reels and let me piece it all together. Ugh. No. Just no. I need a shower. Like, now.”
Asa snickered. “That can be arranged. But let’s drop the DVDs for Calliope to catalog and digitize. She can make us a highlight reel if there’s anything on there worth looking at.”
Zane nodded. “Okay. Then you can feed me. I’m starving.”
Asa gave him a funny look. “I remember when I had to force-feed you. Now, you’re hungry all the time. Like a baby bird. ‘Feed me. Feed me. Feed me.’”
“Are you complaining?” Zane asked, narrowing his eyes.
Asa grinned. “Nope. Believe me, you’ll need the energy.”
Zane studied Asa’s face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Asa gave him an innocent look. “Nothing. Nothing at all, Lois.”
* * *
Zane was pleasantly full and finally squeaky clean. That basement had been nightmare fuel, the scent lingering in his nose until Asa had taken him to get food. He turned the knob to turn off the scalding water, using one of Asa’s fluffy white towels to dry himself off, running it over his damp curls before wrapping it around his waist.
He didn’t make it two steps outside the bathroom before he found himself shoved against the wall, his face pressed against the cold surface. Asa yanked his arms behind him, two soft leather cuffs going around his wrists.
“What are you doing?” Zane asked, breathless.
