The Misadventures of the Laundry Hag 00 - Swept Under the Rug
that allowed Valentino to have first dibs on his every innovation. Years, I spent, watching him profit from my father’s work, reaping all the benefits of someone else’s labor. I watched as my father withered while that bastard flourished, married a rich debutant and soared to even greater heights. Too weak to fight the evil. I was with him when my father breathed his last. And then, Maggie, the most amazing thing happened. My father’s essence filled me.
Sick. I retched in my mouth, swallowing the tangy bile back down since the damn flashlight was still trained on my face. This guy was disturbed on a level I’d never fathomed. Some survival instinct warned he wouldn’t appreciate my take and I kept my lips compressed together.
“His final gift to me, my father gave me the means to bring Valentino down forever. I am my father reborn, the phoenix.”
The man liked to talk and I decided to use it to my advantage. As long as he blathered his heart out, nothing bad could happen. Sylvia would come in eventually and the police were nearby. “That must have been hard for you, living your father’s life instead of your own.”
“Greatness demands sacrifice, but the rewards will soon abound. I thought Valentino’s wife would be my first reward. She came to me, just as my father’s spirit had predicted, offering to help on my quest. And for a time, I thought I could slip into his life, keep his woman for my own. But she was impure, sullying herself with her own sex. Sickening.”
“Candie wanted you to bring Valentino to justice. She didn’t see your vision.” I prompted, trying not to wet myself in fear. God knew I didn’t have the faintest idea what I was messing with and this guy was bat-shit crazy.
Apparently, I’d said the right thing. The flashlight lowered and satisfaction emanated from him in waves. “You understand. I knew you would. Smart girl, devoted to her cause, just like me. It’s not your fault you entered the game too late and on the wrong side. If you were beautiful, I might consider keeping you for my own. Alas you are too ordinary.”
“Hey!” Why the hell was I annoyed? Oh gee, Mr. Lunatic phoenix hack-em-up doesn’t think I’m beautiful. BFD. Unfortunately, my logical brain was sitting backseat to adrenaline. “So how did you find out that Candie was just using you and your vision to her own ends?”
“It was you, actually,” I winced, not willing to take on responsibility for Candie’s evisceration. “You mentioned it during your meeting with Valentino. His chauffer has proven to be a reliable asset, willing to record Valentino’s conversations and sell them to the highest bidder.”
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “And Richard was another bidder.”
My captor snorted. My vision had improved and I could make out a shadowy shape, small to average for a man. “What a waste of flesh. And his obsession with Valentino and his fortune was as disgusting as it was unnatural. Of course, I would have left him be, but Candie had brought him in, promising him all sorts of ridiculous rewards. I couldn’t have an outsider privy to what happened in my company, could I? Putting out his light was pure pleasure.”
So what we have here is a homophobic daddy’s boy on a mission to kill, maim and incinerate anything in his path. Skippy. Unfortunately, I still didn’t know who I was dealing with, and the deficiency put me at a serious disadvantage.
“So what’s next?” I asked, curious despite my better judgment.
The light bobbed as the man moved. “Well, Valentino’s lost his wife, his reputation is in tatters and his home reduced to a pile of cinders. The only thing he has left is this building. But not for long.” This statement seemed to amuse him and that chilling laugh reverberated off my concrete prison.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” Despite my question, I knew he wouldn’t have explained all this if he intended to let me go.
The giggles cut off abruptly, and I winced as he crouched down beside me. A cold hand brushed my cheek and I flinched at his clammy touch.
“All good things must come to an end. I’ll be sure to send your husband my regrets. He doesn’t need to know you were running around using your maiden name, it will only add to his pain.”
It clicked into place. “Oh my God, Alan Garner.”
* * * *
Garner, the sick bastard, appeared delighted by my reaction. “Never suspected me, did you? Neither does anyone else.
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