Most of their questions were what Ronnie assumed were standard fare. She figured they were looking for indications that she was somehow involved with the crime. She told them about the last time she had seen Calvin and how their relationship had been weakening as of late. She also told them about Celia and which apartment she had lived in, just in case they didn’t already know, which they did. When the questions came to her relationship with him, one of the officers asked how their sex life was. Made her feel uncomfortable, but she pretty much told them that they had been sexually restrained until a few weeks ago. She even told them that though Calvin’s sexual appetite had returned, he was different in bed. She told them she thought that might have something to do with Calvin cheating on her. They became very interested when she told them that she was pregnant. She had nothing to do with the murder, and yet the detectives had a way of making her feel guilty.
She liked to think that her involvement in all of this was over, but the deep pit in her gut would remain all day long and even into the night. What she didn’t realize as she parked her car at the college and fumbled around the trunk with her backpack and books was that she needed closure. Even in the wake of the breakup she was lacking closure and that would have haunted her until Calvin eventually called her, or she him. With him missing, a part of her was missing too, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. Deep down, beyond the hurt and disappointment, she still cared about Calvin. Just so long as he wasn’t a murderer.
Her class had already begun, and though Professor Green would often refuse to allow a student access when they were as late as she was, he had leniency considering it was the day of a big exam. Ronnie had an outstanding attendance record, and she figured that influenced Professor Green’s decision.
The exam proved difficult, but not due to the material it covered. Ronnie was prepared as far as that went. What she wasn’t prepared for was how tumultuous her mind was after everything she had been through. Might have been a good idea to nix the test and try to make it up. Green wasn’t much for make-up tests. He wasn’t much for make-up anything.
Ronnie had one more class in a half an hour, but she wasn’t in the mood and there was nothing pressing. Though she took pride in her attendance, she could afford to miss one class. Wouldn’t do her any good to sit there while her mind was miles away. She figured she would grab something to eat, head home and try not to obsess over Celia’s death and Calvin’s destiny.
There was a man standing next to a car that looked like hers. He was leaning against the vehicle like a greaser sidling up to a 57 Chevy. All he needed was a white t-shirt, a pompadour and a cigarette in his mouth. Well, and a 57 Chevy.
There was something about the way the guy looked at Ronnie as she walked through the parking lot that bothered her. It was as if he was expecting her.
For a second there she thought it was Calvin, that he was waiting by her car and that made her feel simultaneously happy and frightened. It was a strange feeling considering how much she despised him after finding out about his secret life with Celia. The shot of happiness must have been due to lingering feelings for him. The fear was that he might be a murderer.
But it wasn’t Calvin.
It was, however, her car.
Oh shit.
“I wasn’t sure when your class got out,” Lance said.
Ronnie’s approach slowed. “I was supposed to have another class. What are you doing here? I got your picture last night.”
“At your… friend’s house?”
Ronnie opened her mouth to say something, but the words caught in her throat.
“Hey, look, don’t get all freaked out on me. I’m not stalking you, I swear.”
I swear? I hate when people say “I swear”. It’s a bad sign.
“I’ve got to go,” said Ronnie. She walked around the car to the driver’s side.
“Don’t you want to see the sculpture?”
“I have a lot going on right now. It sounds fantastic, and I’m truly flattered that you decided to use me as your subject, but I really have too much on my plate, so if you don’t mind…”
She let it hang in the air, hoping he would get the picture.
He stood straight, prying his back off the car and pivoting to face Ronnie. She opened her door and paused before getting in.
“What were you really doing in my neighborhood yesterday?” she asked.
“I live nearby. Just one of those weird coincidences. Kind of funny, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, real funny.”
“I want you to see the sculpture. It’s coming along very well.”
“You seem to know where to find me. Why don’t you get me when it’s finished? Maybe I won’t have so much shit on my mind.”
With that, she slipped into her car, shut the door and cranked the engine. Had her missing ex-boyfriend and a murdered girl in his apartment not been straddling her mind like a cowboy on a bronco she would have been more creeped out by Lance.
She would have realized that she was dealing with a stalker.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“This series of pictures always fucked with my mind when I was a teenager,” Calvin said as he and Hazel gazed over the infamous photos of a naked man and his wife posing with the dismembered body of the man they murdered. Calvin had seen this series of photos back when he used to frequent the Museum of Death. Hazel had them enshrined with candlelight.
“I like these ones a lot,” she said.
The photos had an eerie and macabre quality to them that your average death scenes photos failed to elicit. It probably had something to do with the fact that the pictures were taken by the two deviants who had murdered the poor man and fucked around with his chopped up corpse.
“Do you know anything about them?” Calvin asked.
“There was a small plaque with the details, but I took it down. Said that the woman had an affair. She and her boyfriend killed her husband and took a bunch of pictures. Looks like they had fun. They were caught when the film developer saw the pictures.”
In one photo the woman, skinny as a rail and pale like a mushroom, was straddling the headless body of the man. Her boyfriend held the head by its hair and positioned it to her face, her lips puckered out kissing the decapitated head. Another photo showed the man and woman lying with the corpse between them, its head resting on its stomach. And then there was the infamous photo of the man’s decapitated head with his severed penis crammed in his mouth.
“Love scorned, huh?” said Calvin.
“You could call it a pact, I suppose. They weren’t going to allow anyone to get in the way of their love.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
Calvin and Hazel wandered down the wall of photos, paying close attention to the ones surrounded by candles.
“Do you still love your girlfriend?” Hazel asked.
“Who, Ronnie?”
“Duh, who else?”
“Uh, well, no, I…”
“I was just wondering if you killed the chick in your house as sort of a pact, you know, like the people in those pictures.”
“Nothing like that.”
“You sure?”
Calvin nodded. “It was for the Gorehounds.”
Hazel stopped and looked Calvin in the eyes like she was making an attempt to peek into his soul. “So she doesn’t mean anything to you anymore?”
He liked the way Hazel looked at him. Reminded him of how she looked into his eyes before they kissed last time he was here. The kiss hadn’t been a deciding factor concerning what he did to Celia, or at least he didn’t think so, but he wanted more.
“She’s history,” he said.