“Rick, are you coming to bed or not?” Janet asked from the darkened doorway to the living room.
“I will after the news.” His voice had no emotion to it.
“What’s this sudden interest in the news?” Janet suspected what his answer would be, but wanted him to confirm her thoughts. He had been acting strange for the past couple of weeks, ever since the murders had started. He never liked watching the news before, claiming it was too violent and depressing, but lately he insisted on watching every broadcast.
“They are going to show one of the crime scenes tonight.” Rick’s voice was less robotic. It was shaky, full of excitement. “They still have no clues about this guy.”
Janet was glad his back was to her where she couldn’t see his eyes, afraid they might validate the fear that suddenly overcame her.
“Rick, you’re starting to scare me with all this interest in these killings.” Her voice was full of emotion as she continued. “You’ve become a complete stranger to me and the kids. I had hoped that by sending them to my mothers for the weekend we could get this obsession under control. I’ve seen the basement...”
She knew she had said the wrong thing when he quickly turned away from the television and stared at her. He had given explicit instructions that the basement was off limits to everyone, claiming he was doing a special project for work down there. At first she had understood. His job was causing him a lot of stress recently. There had been numerous layoffs since the new company took over and she thought this was the underlying was the root of the problem.
She had ventured down into his basement office to try and get a grip on how he had been acting, only to discover an entire wall covered with various newspaper clippings, not only of the recent murders in their town, but some from bigger cities, both recent and in the past.
Tears blurred her vision when she saw the shocked and uncertain look he gave her as he hurried passed her to be devoured by the cold darkness of the basement, which had recently claimed his soul.
She slowly climbed the stairs thinking the fear of the truth was preventing her from accusing him of the things that were racing through her mind. She knew it was just a coincidence that he had been out each night of the murders, but the way he was acting since they started would make anyone think that he was involved. She knew that whatever was actually going on they could work it out. She took her wedding vows very seriously and even if he was involved in these crimes, she prayed she had the strength to live up to her end of the promise.
Brushing the last of the tears away, she drew a bath, in hopes it will help calm her down and allow her to collect her thoughts to help him through whatever crisis he was going through.
Fully submerged in the lavender scented water, the dull pling-plop from the faucet resounded through her brain, clouding out all thoughts of Rick, allowing her to let go of some of the conflict that raged inside her.
Opening her eyes, she was startled by red and blue lights swirling around in the tiny bathroom adjacent to their bedroom. She quickly grabbed at her robe as she slipped getting out of the tub. She wasn’t making enough noise to rival a herd of elephants running through the jungle like she thought, but unknown to her; it was enough to quiet the creek of someone on the stairs outside her room.
Janet called out to her husband as she ran out the front door into a throng of neighbors already gathered in front of her house. The police cruisers parked across the street revealed a scene out of some old disco movie. She half expected the crowd around her to break into dance, or John Travolta to step out of the ambulance that just pulled to a stop in the middle of the street.
“What’s going on?”
“They found Nick & Nora dead. They’re saying it was the work of the Strangler.”
Janet didn’t know who had answered her question. The world seemed to spin out of control as she turned back to look at her house. In the pulsing light and shadow from the police cars, she could see someone in the darkened doorway, fading in and out with the pulsing lights.
“Are you alright?”
Janet was startled by the plain cloths officer. She hadn’t heard him come up beside her. Her thoughts were racing about Rick’s strange behavior lately and his sudden mood swings. As she looked into the officers eyes, all she could think about was her promises on their wedding day, for better or worse, till death takes them.
Yet, how could she live with a man who might be the Strangler, who butchered people for the sick and twisted enjoyment of it. If he was the killer and suspected that she or the kids knew what was going on, the final part of their wedding vow could be closer than she would like.
“Ma’am, are you alright?”
She blurted out all her doubts and fears to this unsuspecting officer. At first she thought he was placating her, but the more she talked, his expression changed to one of true concern, that the person responsible for all these deaths could be right in her house as they were talking, knowing that she could be telling his secrets to the police.
Several of her neighbors had gathered around as she told the officer all she knew. They tried to calm her down as the officer called for back up.
The neighbors restrained her as she tried to make a break for the house as the officers entered with their guns drawn. Sobbing, Janet knew that the way her husband had been acting that even if he was completely innocent that her marriage was over. She had violated his trust, not only by going into the basement, but by telling the police that he might be the Strangler.
Seconds, then minutes passed, which seemed like hours to Janet, who was still crying on the lawn, when gunfire reverberated through the night, stunning the crowd into an eerie silence.
Police officers slowly exited from her once loving home with solemn expressions, each one looking away from her as their eyes met. The officer she had spoken with approached her, carrying a torn manila envelope.
“I’m sorry ma’am, but your husband is dead. We got the Strangler…” He trailed off to compose himself. “We got the guy after he had killed your husband. He must have been hiding out in your basement since he had killed the Charles family. Your husband had this clutched in his hand; I thought you would like to see it.”
Shakily, she took out the contents. Inside were a CD and a letter from Double Day publisher. The page was streaked with crimson, but she could make out the first few paragraphs in the dim flashing lights.
Dear Mr. Leonard. Please accept this advance check for your story The Strangler of Woodbridge. Your request to change the dedication to “for my loving wife Janet” will be made immediately. We look forward to having a lasting relationship with you.
“We found your husband on the stairs coming up from the basement. The Strangler must have snuck up behind him when he was bringing you this. There’s evidence that the Strangler had went to the second floor, but retreated back to the basement in a hurry.”
She suddenly realized that if it wasn’t for the commotion outside, she would have been his next victim. Her heart was bursting with both joy and remorse. Her husband was innocent and truly loved her, yet the remorse would haunt her forever, knowing that he died thinking that she thought he was the Strangler.
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