The Serial Killer of Bush Street Part 27

Copyright 2015 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California

Stetson watched the city’s most dangerous and feared man stew in his thoughts. He had never seen Steele scared, worried, or stumped. The killer always had quick and confident answers for everything. Now, Steele’s eyebrows knitted together in serious thought making him look like an scowling owl.

What Agent Parker related about their suspect rang true – the large sum of money, their suspect fleeing from the east coast, and the admirable techniques used for the explosions. All three points matched back to back to Steele’s highlights tonight.

Stetson scrutinized Steele’s face again. Behind the scowl Steele’s brain was figuring out who ratted on him. That dumb rat, he’ll be dead soon.

All sorts of thoughts flew across Stetson’s mind. Agent Parker had played his hand just right by setting Steele’s mind into a fight or flight mode. He and his team were probably just waiting for Steele to panic, make a mistake, or try to escape. Does Parker suspect, or already know that Steele is the Serial Killer? The timing of the first murder fits the timeline Parker described.

Stetson took a deep breath and said, “Hey man, you look like your mind is somewhere else solving a problem.”

“Yeah, you got that right. I’m tired of this place. I’m tired of a lot of things. Why don’t we take a walk down to the end of Muni Pier? Ever been there?” asked Steele.

“Yeah, sure. It’s where I made my first move on a girl in high school and got kissed,” Stetson said with a smile at the memory.

“Well, heck. You aren’t such a miserable loser, are you pal? Com’on, let’s get some fresh air.”

Stetson saw no hints of unsteadiness as Steele slipped on his leather jacket and threaded a navy blue scarf around his neck. His original idea to get Steele drunk and off guard was not working. Not after Agent Parker’s allusions to an imminent arrest.

He signed the dinner bill and left a twenty-dollar tip for the waitress. Stetson zipped up his windbreaker half-way leaving room for quick access to his weapons. The particular style of his jacket hung loose from his shoulders, and the length of it covered his back weapon even when he bent over. Knowing that they were in place, Stetson felt confident that he was ready for whatever action needed. He knew something was going to happen tonight, and soon.

Outside, a light fog hovered over the street lamps. Further out, its dense form made it harder to see the roundhouse at the end of the pier. Nodding toward the windows, Stetson commented, “It’s going to be chilly out there.”

Steele looked at him and shook his head in a pitying way, “You’re such a pussy. Worried about getting a chill? You’re still your Mama’s good boy, aren’t you?”

Stetson walked up closer behind Steele and gave him a he-man shove with both hands, laughing as he did so. Steele overemphasized it and purposely tripped into a busty brunette in a black v-neck dress. Her friends stood next to her by the door.

“He did it,” Steele said as he pointed over his shoulder to Stetson.

One of the girls said in a husky voice, “Well, if he doesn’t want you, I’ll take you out.”

“Sorry, girls, I have to be good and get home to bed.” Steele smiled and winked at the giggling women.

“Com’on, get going,” said Stetson as he acknowledged the people at Agent Parker’s table with a wave and a smile.

“Let’s go back and you can push me into that girl again,” teased Steele.

“No, we don’t. You can’t always get away with murder,” Stetson said.

Stetson felt his face redden and turn hot with embarrassment of what he had said. Outside, the cold air stung his face hard. Coming across an empty soda can, he kicked it with such a force that it flew over two parked cars.

Speechless now, Stetson jay-walked across the street to the curved pathway along the shore.

Steele caught up with him. “You’re wrong, pal. I always get away with murder.”

Under the light of a lamp post, Stetson saw Steele’s wicked smile.  The violent urge to bash in the evil face pulsed through his arms. Instead, he hid his tightened fists in his jacket pockets as if his hands were cold.”Let’s walk on the right side, here,” he said. “It darker. It’ll be harder for anyone to see us together.

“That’s just what I was thinking, pal.”

Copyright 2015 MillieAnne Lowe, Orange County, California