Destiny's Wrath (Destiny Series - Book 3) by Straight, Nancy (read full novel .txt) 📗

this? He’d known Bert forever. Dennis believed Cynthia. How could he not? He had the evidence staring at him. He saw the fear on her face. No one, anywhere, should have to endure what happened to her. Friendship aside, Bert needed to be locked up.

He knew he had just broken the first rule of detective work. He’d drawn a conclusion without getting all the facts. Dennis sat in his squad car in front of Bert’s house, praying he’d get called away to a robbery in progress, crime scene investigation, hell . . . a traffic detail would be welcomed right now. The best approach, hmm, maybe, “So I had a nice visit with the lady you mutilated last night.” Yeah, that should get him a swift kick in the jaw.

Dennis opened the door to his car, gripped the folder in his hand, and made his way to Bert’s front door. It was six a.m. and Dennis hadn’t slept a wink all night. There were lights on inside, so he knew Bert was awake. Any other day he would have just let himself in and hollered at the entryway - not today.

Bert answered the door, a little surprised to see a visitor so early, “Everything okay? Do we have a case?”

“Naw, I wanted to talk to you about something before our shift started. You got a minute?”

“Sure, c’mon in.”

“Do you know a lady, her name’s Cynthia?”

Bert’s face lit up like a kid playing a video game, “Sure, she’s one of my neighbors. Why do you ask?”

“She said you two have been seeing each other. Is that right?”

“Yeah, she’s great, right? We’ve only gotten together a couple times, but I’d take her to Vegas tonight if she wanted me to.”

“Vegas?”

Bert was gushing when he said, “She came over to see me last night. WOW, what a woman! You’ve known both my ex’s. Neither could hold a candle to her.”

Dennis was apprehensive, not knowing what to say. Had he done the same things to his wives? No wonder they both left him. “Listen, she’s a friend, of a friend, of mine. Last night she was talking about . . . She said that you . . . Aw, hell Bert! She’s scared of you. You need to leave her alone.”

Confusion was clear on his face when he said, “I don’t understand. She doesn’t want to see me?”

“Do you blame her? Holy shit, Bert, I’ve seen the photos. What were you thinking?” Bert didn’t say anything. He stood still, puzzled by Dennis’ comments. “You need to stay away from her. She’s willing to let it go if you agree to leave her alone. But if you try to see her again, I’m taking the photos and her statement to the judge, and I’ll get her a restraining order myself.”

“What photos are you talking about?”

Dennis waved the folder in front of his friend, “These photos. Go ahead and take a look!” He slammed the folder down on the table. Dennis couldn’t believe that Bert would play dumb about this.

Bert slowly reached down to the table and opened the folder. There were four photos of Cynthia, standing in a swimsuit, but it was all wrong. He had just seen her, all of her, not like this. Bert shrieked, “Who did this to her?! What kind of sicko perve, would . . .” Bert could hear Samael’s laughter in his head - he didn’t finish.

Bert had seen some disgusting crime scene photos before, but those were of strangers. He could keep his distance and not become emotional during his near clinical analysis of exactly how wounds were inflicted, location of bodies, murder weapons, everything. This was different. He wasn’t a bystander looking at evidence. This was Cynthia. She had just been right here in the living room last night. She looked incredible, nothing like the photos staring back at him. Bert could feel the bile coming up; he swallowed hard and looked at his friend, “Dennis, I could never do something like that. We need to talk to her. I’m being set up. I need to know that she’s okay.”

Some of the anger that had seethed through Dennis’ voice seemed to have ebbed when he answered, “Bert, no. She doesn’t want to see you.”

“But I didn’t do this! She was right here last night. She didn’t look like this!” Then Samael’s voice from inside Bert’s head said, “Bert, so, I see you’ve gotten a better peek at our little pet, Cynthia. She really is divine. I thought the chains were a nice touch, but I’m surprised she kept them on after our little romp last night. She must have enjoyed them more than I did.”

Bert’s eyes went wide, horror spread over his face. He ran to the bathroom and vomited. Bert splashed cold water on his face and rinsed his mouth. He looked at himself in the mirror. How could this be happening? Bert asked Samael aloud, “You sick bastard, you did this?”

Samael’s voice came back loud and clear, absent any type of remorse, “I knew you needed to stay in the dark. You haven’t developed a taste for it yet. She’ll be fine. I guarantee, the next time you see her, she’ll do anything you wish. This world is full of women just like her.”

Bert didn’t care that Dennis was in the other room. He shouted, “The next time I see her? Do you know what you did to her? She’ll never see me again, and I’ll be lucky if I stay out of jail.” Bert looked over his shoulder, knowing Dennis was waiting in the other room for some sort of explanation, some denial that Bert couldn’t give him. Bert had allowed this to happen.

“It’s fine. I can tell that you are feeling cross with me this morning. Oh, Boo Hoo. I kept up my end of the bargain. Look in your briefcase in the kitchen. I believe I promised you wine, women and song or something to that effect. You’ll need to relinquish your