Wild Card

To be understood… as to understand

To be loved… as to love

for

It is in giving…. that we receive

It is in pardoning, that we are pardoned,

It is in dying… that we are born to eternal life.

Marcus’s closed coffin sat in the front of the church. He had been driving an illegal motorbike in front of the high school when he’d lost control, wrapped himself around a tree, and broken his neck. Like every other parent on the island, Valentine wondered what his parents had been thinking to let him have such a dangerous toy.

One by one, the rows of mourners filed past the coffin to say goodbye. When their turn came, Gerry went to the coffin with his head bowed, while Valentine and Lois paid their condolences to Mink and his wife Gloria, who stood bravely nearby.

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Lois said.

Gloria Mink nodded stiffly. She’d been beautiful once, but the light had gone out of her eyes, and reduced her to something less than whole. Leaning against his cane, her husband put his arm around his wife’s shoulder, and somehow found the strength to smile.

“My son is with the Lord,” Mink said.

Sitting across the street from the church, the Dresser watched the mourners file out the front doors, and pile into the black limousines that would take them to the cemetery. He’d read about the boy’s death in the paper, and immediately noted that his father was a cop. The police were a brotherhood, and he’d realized that all the other cops in town would attend the funeral out of respect.

Taking the orange juice container off the seat, he took a long swallow. A police cruiser led the funeral procession away from the church, and he listened to its siren fade into the afternoon, then started up his car’s engine, and pulled away from the curb.

He drove north. He had learned that the key to killing was being an opportunist. If an opportunity presented itself, then he needed to take advantage of it. Marcus Mink’s death was such an opportunity.

He parked a few blocks from the beach and walked to the Boardwalk. It was a cold day, yet there were tourists everywhere. Blending in was easy with so many people around. He didn’t have to change his appearance much — a pair of sunglasses, or a floppy hat usually did the trick. That, and a group of people he could walk with. It didn’t matter that there were flyers everywhere now with his composite. With the right crowd, he was still invisible.

Reaching the Boardwalk, he went into a confectionary store, and bought an ice cream cone. He made the girl put chocolate sprinkles on top, and a cherry. Then he stood outside the store, and watched the tourists. The Boardwalk’s narrow wood planks were laid in a hypnotic, herringbone pattern, and people seemed to float as they walked past.

He saw a hooker strolling toward him, doing the walk. She was past her prime, and wore too much make-up. She was taller than he liked, but she would do in a pinch. He needed a girl. He flashed a smile, and she came over to where he stood.

“Hey, handsome,” the hooker said.

“Well, hello.”

“How’s it going?”

“Great. How about you?”

“Having the time of my life.”

He licked his cone, and came away with an ice cream moustache. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

She laughed. “Always talk with your mouth full?”

“Depends what it’s filled with. What’s your name?”

“Mona. You in town for the convention?”

He’d seen several Shriners walk by, wearing their silly purple hats, and nodded his head. Mona eyed the cone, and he handed it to her. She licked at the cherry sitting atop the whipped cream. Her tongue was pointed like a serpent’s. She saw the effect it had on him, and went for the kill.

“Want to go on a date?”

“Depends. How much do you charge?”

“Two hundred bucks.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as you can last, handsome.”

He removed a wad of cash from his pocket along with a handful of black casino chips. Carrying the chips was a little touch, but sometimes they were the most important things. He peeled away a brand new hundred, and handed it to her.

“Half now, half when we get there.”

Mona made the C-note disappear in her leather jacket.

“I like your style,” she said.

She consummated the deal by kissing him on the lips. The ebb and flow of human traffic continued past. He felt himself becoming aroused. Soon, she would be his.

“You got wheels?” Mona asked.

“I’m parked down the street.”

He offered his arm, acting like a gentleman. Mona took it and smiled. Whenever possible, he tried to get his victims to smile. Even if it meant buying them a gift, or saying something stupid. It always brought their guards down, and made everything easier later on. As they started to walk away, he glanced into the confectionary store window. His own reflection looked back at him. In it, he saw a strange object perched on a pole across the Boardwalk. He jerked his head and stared.