Livewire patted Todd on the back and signaled a thumbs up.
“There you go. You earned something in Level Zero. Nice job.”
“What the hell am I gonna do with a crock pot?”
Creeper Joe spoke from the face of the target, “Uh… I don’t know. Cook! Duh!”
His face faded away.
“Listen here,” Livewire said. “We all have jobs, you know. Joe lets us rotate them around. Your first assignment looks like it’s going to be cooking. The mess hall is down the pathway you just came down and on the opposite side.”
“Thanks. This was ‘enlightening.’ Hey, speaking of… how did you get the bright lights in here?”
“Simple. I just asked for ‘em. Let me tell you somethin’ else. This whole tunnel’s wired… in every way that you can imagine. Did most of it myself. Joe likes to rearrange the scenery, but he don’t know I have this.” He turned around and lifted a large rock. Underneath it, there was a large hand-drawn map. “You’re going to have to be careful with it. If he catches us, we might both be goners. I’m guessing you’ve gathered that there are cameras and microphones everywhere! I sit under this spot because I’ve got a few zones in here where I miswired ‘em, and to my knowledge, they are still that way months later. Of course, I did it on purpose. Call it a ‘consultant’s guarantee’ to ensure that they can come back to work to squeeze more money out of you, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Thanks. This might be helpful. I’ll tuck it away for safekeeping. I better get on my way.”
“Take care of it. There are a few places in here that few have seen or been to. Tread with care.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Approaching the Crown Vic, a half mile’s walk from Creepy Nights, DETECTIVE NEIL PENSKE noticed a trembling man sitting in the passenger seat. The intruder’s mannerisms reflected his fatigue. Penske drew his gun.
Just another druggie strung out. This city sure has gone to shit.
He tapped on the glass, and rather than seeing fear in the intruder’s eyes, he observed relief.
Ramblin’ Ron?
He pulled the door open. Ron sat in the passenger seat.
“Thank God, Penske. I hope you can help. They kidnapped me. Some weirdo drugged me and left me to rot. You’ve got to help.”
“Slow down. Don’t act like we’re friends. You’ve just unlawfully entered a municipal vehicle without precedence.”
Just gonna give him a scare. It’s almost Halloween, after all.
“Didn’t you hear a word I just said? I need your help, not incarceration.”
“Not my problem. You broke the law when you came into this space. Didn’t you notice the license plates?”
“That’s why I got in. I thought I could have confidence in you! I made the mistake of assuming you people would help. I guess that’s where I went wrong.”
“What I’m seeing and hearing is that you entered an RPD vehicle without precedence.”
“Ha… Ha… You’re quite the comedian,” Ron said. “You could even take your act on the road and quit your day job.”
“Don’t flatter me.”
“Go ahead. Lock me up! Do whatever you have to do, but please send someone to look out for this guy. We were in an ambulance. He must have stolen it before he kidnapped me.”
Alright. Time to stop busting his chops.
“Ambulance? You should have said that sooner. That changes things. We have totally different protocols for different situations, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Ron rolled his eyes.
“Please move to the back seat,” Penske said. “I’ve got to call something in. It’s big.”
. . . . .
Penske put the car into motion, driving back toward the Precinct Three station as he questioned Ron.
“Why were you in an ambulance? I try not to be on a first-name basis with my… clients. I’m almost certain we have a serial situation with these disappearances. That’s about as much as I’m at liberty to say right now.”
“Really? What makes you think that?”
“A new development. That’s all you get to hear for now. Let’s say the tongue you turned in was Wayne’s… why is he on the hit list?”
“I think in Wayne’s case, it’s because he so candidly made a fool of himself in the public eye. A disgruntled listener probably did this to him. I bet he’s holed up in a basement somewhere being fed pigeon food because that’s all he can stomach.”
“Well, based on that theory, he can’t taste much. Seems like he would have bled to death.”
“There’s one way to cut a tongue out and keep a person living — to sear it shut with heat. Only a calculated creep would have known that,” Ron said.
“Well, what does that make you, Ron? That method sure seemed to roll right off of your tongue.”
Ron scoffed, wiping a tear from his eye. ”I used to study serial killer profiles. Give me a break. I pay my civic duty to the community every day on the airwaves.”
“Oh… you studied them that closely? We’ll need a full verbal and written statement of all you heard and saw. I don’t want to put you in any harm’s way.”
Ron shook his head. “Please forgive me. That guy I was with was an odd one. You ought to track him down and lock him up. He didn’t seem quite right in the head.”
“Are you a radio guy or a shrink? I’ve heard enough of your… ‘crap’ shows. You’re not stable enough to assess the health of anyone. Especially if Wayne Wallace is your definition of a healthy baseline.”
“Hey, I never said Wayne was stable. I just worked with him.”
“Sometimes, the truth is sitting right there in front of us. We just need the right details to come in focus,” Penske said.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Preparing to enter the mess hall for the first time, TODD ADAMS waited for Creeper Joe to give orders as he stood in the center of the tunnel near its entrance
“Hey, Todd,” Joe called out. “Report to work at 0600 and
