Monthly Archives: April 2019

At 9:30 PM, Kelly was driving toward Hankins’ apartment for another check, when she saw the gray Explorer pulling into the garage under his apartment. She continued for another block, then pulled into a strip mall. She could see the lights in the apartment come on. Kelly wondered about the change in Hankins’ daily pattern. Other than the time he drove up to the hotel bar at Broadway at the Beach, he had not been out at night since they had him under surveillance. Could that sick bastard have been out hunting? It was dark at 6:30 PM. He had barely time to hunt a subject, torture and kill her and get back to his apartment in three hours. Maybe he struck out again. Maybe he was just doing some scouting. She decided to watch the apartment for another hour. His lights were always out by ten. Kelly thought she would stay until Hankins turned his lights out. At 2:30 AM, his light went out. What could that squirrel be doing so late at night? Kathy said he wasn’t a reader and didn’t seem to be a devoted big screen TV watcher. He didn’t drink. He was up and on his way to work before eight in the morning. Kelly planned on being in a stakeout position before seven tomorrow morning. Kathy had told her that when a subject changes his or her pattern there is a reason. She would find it out tomorrow.

Hankins had no trouble getting his prey up the narrow stairs into the small, dingy apartment. She was still groggy. He guessed she only weighed about 115 pounds. He was so pumped her weight was nothing. He dumped her taped up body on the unmade double bed. Wondering who she was, he opened her purse and took out her wallet. She was Sally Ann Bradford, age 25. He noted her ring and decided she must be Mrs. Bradford. Her driver’s license was from Durham, NC. Apparently she was here as a tourist. Unless her husband was also here, maybe no one would be looking for her for a while. Her car parked in front of the dress shop would alert the police. No pictures of kids in her wallet or in her iPhone. She had a checkbook, a couple of credit cards and $500 in cash.

The woman opened her eyes and tried to scream. Hardly a sound escaped. Good, he could leave her in the apartment when he went out. With her hands and feet secured, she would be helpless and couldn’t make any noise. Hankins walked past the bed into his orderly kitchen and picked up a serious cutting knife. Coming back, he showed her the knife and said he was going to take the tape off her mouth. If she screamed her face would get cut. A scar to remind her of their date. With panic in her eyes, Mrs. Bradford nodded she understood. He ripped the tape off, messing up her makeup. The knife blade was nearly touching her face. Hankins saw she was trying to talk. Finally he understood she needed some water. He put a hand under her head and gently tipped the glass. After drinking she tried to talk again, but he stopped her. Going into her purse, he found lipstick and blusher. Telling her to be still, he patched up her makeup. Standing back, examining his handiwork, he thought, this one is special. The best I have ever captured. I must be careful not to destroy this opportunity. He also thought, I must be crazy to have brought her here. I want to talk to her, but if I wait too long, fear, stress and tears will take her beauty away before I can capture the moment of death.

Just having her here gives me problems I’ve never had before. I want to keep her for some days but she will have to eat, use the bathroom and even bathe. It’ll be risky to leave her alone for more than an hour or so. If I kill her tonight those problems go away. I’ll still have to get rid of the body. That means keeping a dead woman in my apartment until after dark tomorrow. It was now 2:30 AM and he still hadn’t made up his mind. Even as frightened as she was, he enjoyed talking to her. It’s surprising what you can learn about someone in a very short time, if they are motivated to answer all your questions. He even answered some of her questions. She asked if he was going to rape her. He laughed and said no, he wasn’t interested in sex. He could tell from her eyes that his answer made her more frightened. He wanted to tell her that real power was the power to decide between life and death, including how and when. That was purity. Death was clean. No shades of gray. No judgments about good or bad. In comparison, sex was tawdry, full of delusions and illusions. Hankins was certain she would not understand. A discussion like that could ruin the moment and beauty of death.

Just after 2:30 after giving her another drink of water and helping her to the bathroom, he used his ether pad and put her to bed using the last of his duct tape. Tomorrow he had to get some more and a couple of frozen or carryout meals. Nothing else was on his agenda.

Hankins looked at his watch. It was 7:00 PM dark and cold. He was bored with his new life in Georgetown as an indoor house painter. It paid less than his Oriental rug store in Charleston and the work was much harder. His urge to kill had grown until he couldn’t think of anything else. His last foray to Myrtle Beach produced nothing. But, he never looked beyond the hotel lobby. He felt he had graduated from taking any young woman available. He wanted to kill someone whose disappearance or death would make the national media news scene. In the past he had worked like a trapper, setting the trap and waiting until a young woman came close enough to be grabbed. Now he was going to be the hunter. He would search an area until he saw someone with class and money. The type of car, the dress and the shops the potential victim visited now defined his search criteria. He was going tonight. The urge was strong, but he must not settle for anything less than he deserved.

Kelly, following Kathy’s instructions about keeping only a casual watch on Hankins, missed him leaving his garage. The light was on in his apartment and she assumed he was there. He was now sitting in his Ford Explorer watching the front door of the well-lighted shop. Hankins had noticed a fashionable jewelry shop in North Myrtle Beach on a previous hunting excursion. From his parked car, Hankins could clearly see the interior of the store. His plan was good. He had only been in place for 30 minutes, yet had seen two very desirable targets. Now he was watching a young woman of his dreams shopping for what looked like diamond earrings. He had seen her park her car a half-block from the jewelry shop. She went into a high-end dress store near where she parked and was now in his hunting area. A car moved from a parking place next to her Lexus. Hankins didn’t even think. He just slid the Explorer in next to the Lexus on the driver’s side.

He could still see the front door of the dress shop but not the interior. He knew she was alone. All he had to do was wait. He decided to use his cane and a shopping bag of empty boxes as props. Hankins was waiting in a secluded spot three cars away from the Lexis. He saw her leave the dress shop with an armload of packages. When she walked between the cars with her purchases, Hankins was only a few steps behind. As his prey approached the driver’s door of her Lexus, Hankins stumbled, dropping his packages between their cars. She turned around, saw the man with a cane trying to retrieve his dropped parcels, and bent down to help him.

Muttering apologies, he took his ether-loaded cloth out of his bag and pressed it tightly against her face. No one saw the struggle. In less than 30 seconds, she was on the floor in the back seat and under a blanket. He put her packages in her car, closed and locked the Lexus door, and drove out of the shopping area onto the service road. He found an isolated spot and bound his victim with duct tape. He hated handling duct tape while wearing gloves.

This one was too good for his usual routine of torturing his catches and then quickly killing them with his signature counterclockwise neck twist, while he shot images of the moment life left. Dumping the battered bodies was a mere housekeeping chore. He never gave it a thought and never went back to the dumping place. He had his digital images to awaken his memories.

This one would be different. He was going to take her home. He knew it was dangerous, almost madness. But, the urges were strong, stronger than ever, and she was special. Even her looks. Blonde with a page boy haircut, the stylish black skirt, white ruffled blouse and black short jacket. Good legs in stockings and high black pumps that showed them off. It was the eyes that surprised him. He had never seen more beautiful eyes. They were almost violet. He needed another look. The pictures would be sensational. Maybe he would have to post them someway.

Home was only 15 more miles. The plan was coming together in his head as he drove. He heard some stirring in the back. That was okay, she couldn’t shout or even move about. He planned on driving straight into the garage. Thank God, it had a remote opener, a decrepit one but it worked. She would stay in the car until he readied a place for her upstairs. If she would be quiet, they could talk. He wanted to hear all about her. For a while she could remain dressed, and he would be nice to her. If she refused to do as he asked, the rules would change. He would have to make that clear. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair.

He realized he hadn’t even thought about the man from Herat or his work with the terrorist. He heard the news reports on his TV about the violence in Charleston and knew who was responsible. He was so lucky. If it hadn’t been for the fire that burned his shop and killed five of the terrorists, he would have been involved in that mess and would now be dead. They would never find him, and his woman would help him not to worry about them.