Malcolm should have known this was going to end badly, that just because he was seemingly put off the case that things weren’t over. Everything was just too coincidental. The picture he found on the victims body, and his old partner. So conveniently placed.
More importantly he should have pieced everything together sooner. But who could see such a kind woman being tied to the junkyard killer? Not just connected, but knowing what he did and not doing anything about it. Possibly helping..
Now the ‘dirty’ cop was dead. He could still the image of the slashed throat of the man who’d helped him get where he was, to a lead. A lead that lead him to right into Paul’s , now identified as John, hands.
Something about where he was now seemed so familiar as he slowly came to consciousness, taking in the proximity of the room. There were no memory flashes yet he felt like he had been here before. Malcolm wasn’t quite so surprised to feel the handcuffs tightly locked around his wrists, but they made it hard to get in a more comfortable view. To get a better lay of the land. More so, the moment his feet hit the ground, he could hear the jangling of chains.
“You brought this on yourself, Malcolm.” John’s eerie voice was a mere few inches away. “I told you to stay away but you couldn’t stop could you? Had to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. Or maybe where it did...”
“You can’t keep me here, wherever we are. They’ll find us, they’ll find you .” Malcolm talked a good game, but the tone of voice betrayed him. What was supposed to sound like courage sounded exactly opposite, lacked conviction.
“Know what? I’m glad we’ve gotten this chance, been waiting for something like this to come along. It’s a shame your dad isn’t here to make it extra special, huh?” John was taunting him now, hardly affected by anything he’d just said. “Do you remember the last time we were here?”
‘What do you think? Perfect place for a boys weekend.”
Heavy breathing followed as the fragmented memory flashed before him.
“Where are we?” Young eyes glanced around the interior of the cabin. “Why did we have to go so far out? Isn’t it dangerous?”
A much bigger hand ruffled brown locks. “Hey, don’t you worry about a thing, kid. Ain’t nothing to be scared of. We’re gonna have a real good time.”
Malcolm’s hands trembled as he came back to reality. “Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me?” He vehemently shook the chains of the handcuffs, trying desperately to snap said bindings.
John frowned at Malcolm’s hostility, seemingly displeased by his actions. Though, he didn’t appear at all surprised all the same.
“I’m giving you answers, little Malcolm.” He stated bluntly. “You do want answers, don’t you? After all, that’s why you sought me out, am I right?”
Silence was the only response. The man was right. Despite what Malcolm had assured Gil…
“Now he believes my need to find answers is stronger than my need to catch him.”
It was. He didn’t admit aloud, and how could he? If Malcolm confirmed the suspicion Gil would’ve taken him off the case right then and there. The turn out more less turning out the same regardless…
“You don’t know anything about me.” This time Malcolm managed to show some conviction. But was there doubt? Maybe.
“At first I thought you were sent to stop me, but I can see now that was wrong.” John locked eyes with Malcolm, dead serious. “You were sent because you were lost, little Malcolm. You need someone to show you the way and I’m going to help you, all you need is a little guidance.”