Goddamn it! Why couldn’t they just have left him alone?
Milo swore under his breath. He eased the strip of skin gently back onto the lucky little bitch’s arm and she instantly covered it up with her left hand, whimpering and panting like the sweet little victim he wanted. Unfortunately he had no time to enjoy it.
Yet.
He leaned over and grabbed his roll of duct tape off the floor. He peeled off a generous strip and slapped it over the bitch’s mouth, taking the time to ensure it was tightly sealed in place. He didn’t need her working it off and then screaming while he was on the phone with the pigs.
The telephone continued to ring.
Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he ripped off more tape and used it to secure her arms to her bare belly, allowing her to keep her left hand covered over her damaged right arm. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, after all.
Then he stood and took one step toward the phone just as it stopped ringing. He turned back to the girl and said, “Doesn’t that just figure? The minute you make the dentist appointment, the damned tooth stops aching, you know what I mean?”
She stared back at him uncomprehendingly. The tears that had filled her eyes were now leaking out of them, rolling down her pretty cheeks in twin tracks. She continued whimpering and panting into her duct-tape gag and Milo knew she was going to be even more fun to torture than he had anticipated.
First things first, though. He would have to deal with the pigs. He needed to buy himself enough time to enjoy his adventure with the nearly naked girl on the couch. He still hoped to do Dear Old Mom, too, but only time would tell on that one. At the very least, he wanted to make sure the girl suffered long and hard before he snuffed the life out of her. He had come here to do his thing with the young woman and he was going to make damned sure he did it before he left. Whether he was in handcuffs or in a body bag when that happened didn’t really make much difference to Milo Cain. He had always possessed a single-minded sense of purpose, and it was coming in mighty handy right now.
In the kitchen the phone began to ring again, the bell shrill and harsh and penetrating. Milo smiled. He had known they would call again immediately and he was right, as always. He was filled with confidence. He knew he could pull this off. He was smarter than the police and more motivated, to boot.
He strolled into the kitchen and picked up the receiver. “Yellow.” The key was to sound as in-control and carefree as possible. The closer the cops felt he was to snapping, the more likely they would be to do something counterproductive, like storm the building before he had a chance to do what he needed to do.
“Hey there,” came the response. “You’re a tough guy to get ahold of.”
Milo was silent. He hadn’t heard a question, so volunteering information was pointless.
“My name is Lieutenant Sanders,” the voice continued. “I’d like it if you would call me Bob. To whom am I speaking?”
“My name is not important,” Milo answered.
“Okay, then, let me ask you this: are you the man in charge in there?”
Milo laughed and looked around the room. The dead cop lay in the doorway, the hero boyfriend lolled unconscious on his chair, the dried-up old hag sat next to him pleading with her eyes for her life, and the stupid little bitch who had started all of this lay in her underwear on the couch, clasping her wounded arm and moaning softly into her gag. “You could say that.”
“Okay, how about if you just give me a first name, nothing that could be used to identify you, just something I can call you so we can get to know each other a bit, how does that sound?”
Milo thought about it for a second. What the hell; it wasn’t like he was going to get out alive, anyway, his only goal was to delay the inevitable long enough to finish skinning the little bitch and maybe her mother, too. “Fair enough,” he said. “My name is Milo.”
“Excellent. Well, Milo, first things first. I need to know what the situation is in there. Is everyone alive? Does anybody need medical attention?”
Milo didn’t even hesitate. He knew if the negotiator realized his pig brother was cooling on the floor, it would only be a matter of minutes before he was either on his way out of the house in handcuffs or lying dead next to him. There was no way he would have the time to finish the little bitch on the couch unless the cops thought there was at least a chance everyone was going to exit the building alive. “Or course everyone’s alive,” he said.
“That’s wonderful. Next question, Milo: One of the neighbors saw an Everett police officer enter the house a little while ago and he has not come back out. May I speak with him, please?”
“Gee, Bob, I don’t see any reason for that, at least not at this point. You’ll have to take my word that he’s doing just fine. He’s decided to take a little break in here and join the party.”
“You never answered my question regarding injuries. Does anyone in the house require medical attention?”
Milo glanced at the hero boyfriend, wondering whether he was even still alive. His face was pale and his lips were purple and he appeared either dead or knocking at the door. “You know,” he said casually, “everyone in here has been pretty cooperative. Aside from a minor bruise or two, we’re all doing just peachy.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Since that’s the case, let me tell you a little bit about myself. I’ve been a law-enforcement professional for almost seventeen years and a member of the Everett Hostage Negotiation Team for the last ten years. I’ve seen these things end well and I’ve seen them end badly, and I very much want this particular situation to end well.
“My question to you, Milo, is this: What do we need to do to ensure a happy ending to this scenario?”
“A happy ending,” Milo repeated into the phone. “Well, let’s see. You need to understand that I am in control here. The first time I see someone sneaking along the side of the house, everyone dies. The first time you people try to storm the house, everyone dies. The first time a flash-bang comes through a window, anywhere in the house, everyone dies. Do you see where this conversation is going?”
“You’ve made yourself very clear. Thank you for that. It’s important everyone know where they stand. And that includes you, Milo. I’m sure you realize that as long as all the people in that house stay alive and unharmed, things are much more likely to end well. Now, let’s get down to the heart of the matter—”
Milo almost laughed out loud. The heart of the matter. That was a good one, considering he had come so close to stabbing the hero boyfriend right in the heart. The pig cop negotiator continued droning on and Milo had to force himself to concentrate. All he wanted was to get back to the couch and resume his work with the little bitch lying there so invitingly.
“So, really,” the pig cop negotiator was saying, “what it all boils down to is this: what do you want? If you tell us why you’re doing this, maybe we can take some action to resolve whatever is bothering you and we can all go home.”
Except me, Milo thought. Me, you would just as soon shoot in the head as not. That little nugget you’re keeping to yourself, though, aren’t you? He forced himself to calm down and focus. All he needed was to buy enough time to finish what he had started.
“What’s bothering me?” he answered. “Tell you what, let’s get into that later. First things first, as you so aptly stated a moment ago. We’ve been having so much fucking fun in here that everyone is famished. How about you send out for a couple of pizzas for us?”