Free The Mad and the MacAbre by Jeff Strand Page A

on their way right now."
    "They're not."
    "I'll make it quick," Charlie promised. "I
never do, but this time I will. It'll be over in seconds. You'll
hardly even feel it."
    "My name is Patti."
    "I don't care."
    "I just want you to know that. My name is
Patti."
    "I said I don't care." Charlie ran a hand
through his hair, thoroughly frustrated. She was ruining his
celebration with Kutter.
    "I can come up with a plan," Patti said.
"Just give me time. Give me an hour."
    Charlie considered that. It was a bad idea,
a terrible idea, but it seemed fair to give her a chance. She might
come up with something brilliant. If he could resolve this
situation without murdering her and risking having the police hunt
him for the rest of his free life, it would be worth taking the
chance on keeping her alive awhile longer.
    "Okay," he said. "I won't kill you yet."
    "Thank you."
    "Put your thinking cap on. I'll go get you
some food. Do you like cereal?"
    * * *
    Charlie closed the basement door behind him
as he stepped into the kitchen. He didn't have any steak in the
house, and though there was a twenty-four-hour grocery store not
too far from his home, he wasn't sure it was a good idea to leave
the house right now. He and Kutter would just have to celebrate
with bacon strips.
    He walked into the living room. "Kutter!
What the hell--?"
    Kutter stopped chewing on the couch cushion.
He'd exposed a piece of the stuffing, and another bit of white
fluff was on the floor.
    "Why are you chewing up my couch?" He
hurried across the room. Kutter ran to the other side, thinking it
was playtime.
    "You idiot, I was going to buy you a steak
tomorrow! Steak! I bet you've never even had a steak. A big, thick
juicy steak on the way and you're trying to eat my couch? Why would
you do that? Huh? Why?"
    Charlie stood there, waiting for an answer.
Then he remembered that he was unlikely to receive one.
    He couldn't believe this. He hadn't even
been the dog's official owner for half an hour and Kutter was
chewing up the furniture.
    He sat down on the damaged couch. Kutter
jumped up next to him.
    "Go away. I'm mad at you."
    Kutter prodded Charlie's hand with his cold
wet nose, seeking petting.
    "No. You don't deserve to get petted. You're
a bad dog. Good dogs don't chew up couches. Only evil ones do
that."
    Kutter continued to prod him. Charlie
reluctantly petted his head.
    "What's wrong? Were you just stressed out
because your old owner tried to take you away?"
    That might've been it. Byron's unexpected
presence might've confused the poor animal. And Kutter might've
been scared by having Charlie go down into the basement so soon
after Byron left. Maybe he thought that Charlie had left him
forever.
    "I'm sorry," said Charlie. "You're not a bad
dog. We'll make up." He took Kutter's paw in his hand and shook it.
"Deal?"
    Kutter licked his face.
    * * *
    Charlie watched the 11:00 PM news to see if
there was anything about Patti. Nothing. That wasn't
surprising--she'd hadn't been missing for very long, and if she
lived on campus and had a boyfriend, it might not be unusual for
her to come home late.
    He had time.
    "What a waste," he told Kutter. A beautiful
girl in his basement, and he simply didn't feel like torturing or
killing her. How had his life turned out this way?
    He decided not to go downstairs to check on
her. She'd be fine until tomorrow. Then Charlie would call in sick
to work, and spend the morning either following Patti's plan, or
disposing of her body.
    * * *
    The alarm went off as usual at 6:30 AM.
Charlie got up, threw on a robe, took Kutter for a quick walk, came
home, brushed his teeth, and then practiced his "sick voice" a few
times. He thought it sounded pretty good. He considered leaving his
voice mail without using a script, then lost his nerve and wrote
down what he wanted to say. He kept it simple--giving more
information than was necessary made it sound like a lie.
    He dialed Bob Testiro's number. It rang
twice.
    "Hello?"
    Charlie froze. Bob
was