Gabriel Church knows you can’t take a life without first understanding just how feeble life is, how tentative and weak it stands alone. If you desire murder, you hold a life in your hand. Whether you release it to grant life or grip tighter to end it, it is at your command and discretion.
Gabriel is a serial killer with a story he wants told.
Christian Maxwell studied abnormal psychology in college but chose instead to focus on a career in writing. His background comes in handy when he thinks of writing about a serial killer. He can’t think of anyone more qualified to write the story of Gabriel Lee Church, and do so in the murderer’s own words. It’s been done before, but never with a killer who has yet to be captured or convicted.
There was never anything more than a gentleman’s understanding between the two men that Christian would record Gabriel’s life story. The killer did not ask for his complicity in any crimes, nor did he ever ask for his silence. Christian’s interest in the man, though, is fast becoming something more than academic. When the writer and his subject become unexpected friends and then lovers, the question remains: What is Gabriel’s endgame . . . and why does he want his story told?
“Tell me your story.” Christian Maxwell began, wetting his lips and
leaning in. He stared at the killer across the table and rested his forearms
on the notepad before him. His look was imploring, he was begging for good
and gory details. Gabe stared at him glassy eyed and with anticipation. He
was all but squinting with excitement, of all that was to follow. He had a
somewhat wanting expression on his face. Gabe had seen that look many times
before.
“Better the devil you barely know.” Gabe thought. “If someone else’s
gonna be making money off my story it might as well be this guy.”
He remembered the first time the thought of telling his story had first sprung
to mind. The memories of it much like this, detached, more after-thought than
close consideration.
“Ever been out to the Florida Keys?” Gabe asked.
When he only received a nod from Maxwell to his question he continued
absently, “For me it was like driving to the keys, a few miles over the
speed limit on that old Highway One…you know, the one they called Highway
out to Sea…under fleecy clouds with that fresh coastal winds slapping you in
your face, under a vast, unending blue on blue…it is rather freeing.” His
hands wrapped around the old dusty cover of the book he was holding, more as
an effect than something to read.
Christian listened to him speaking with that far-away gaze in his eyes,
knowing he was already back there in his mind. He pretended to jot notes down
but concentrated more on that distant expression on Church’s face. Sitting
so close to him, he could almost feel the wind slapping his hair, the sun
beating down as he rode in the passenger seat of Church’s mental trip along
Highway One. He knew it was going to be a good book when he finished it. He
didn’t want to interrupt the narrator but he couldn’t resist,“But it
didn’t begin in Florida did it? I just presumed it happened elsewhere.”
The killer’s posture changed as he replied. He sat up straight in the chair,
his eyes narrowed, “If you think you know where it started then why are we
sitting around hashing old news?” The killer’s voice was cold. Dampness
built under Christian’s armpits.
“Because no one has ever asked you for your side of it, usually a serial
murderer doesn’t get a chance to explain why he kills.
But I…” pointing to his own chest, “…I want to give you that
opportunity.”
“Well that’s mighty big of you.” Gabe leaned back in his chair and
smiled a grin that could cut through glass, his mocking words and expressive
eyes said it all: this might just prove to be an interesting way to spend his
free time. He rubbed his rough forefinger across the lip of the wine glass as
a carnal abstraction as he watched Maxwell jot his notes, even though they
hadn’t even begun his tale.
“Shouldn’t you wait till I start to speak before you scribble down all
those pretty words?”
Christian looked up and smiled sheepishly, “…just mood stuff. You’ll
have to get used to that…meaning my process, early on.” He put his pen
down and folded his hands neatly to hide his notes. “I’m a little
fastidious or obsessive at times.”
“No worries”, he said nodding, “The same has been said of me.”
That bent smile of a killer reappeared and twisted Church’s face into a
mocking evil caricature, sending a shiver down Christian’s spine. He smiled
back and returned a look that seemed to place them on equal understanding.
‘This was going to be tough’, he thought, ‘but worth it.’ Christian
picked up his pen and sent an imploring gaze at his subject of study.
Gabe recognized the untidy anticipation, and reluctantly continued.
“Actually it began in Texas…but we need to go back to where the...umm,
desires, I guess is the word…first came into clear focus don’t we? I mean
you want the full picture don’t you?”
When the man didn’t offer a conciliatory gesture, Gabe continued.
“Before Florida, before Seattle I had been somewhere else… it was a better
place for me, because it still held some type of promise, nothing had been
carved into stone…if you’ll pardon the pun.” Church’s head lolled back
as if he was about to break into a hearty laugh.
He was a dangerous sick man Christian could see that. His reference to the
markers of his varied victims, as his nonchalant manner in describing his
affinity to murder was unsettling, even for someone as akin to pathology as
Christian Maxwell.
In college, his dark sense of humor and an uncomfortably quiet nature was
off-putting to most. His so-called friends would jokingly offer that it was
going to be Christian who would be famous, but more for the salvo of bullets
which hit other students from his safe vantage in some random clock tower or
rooftop. The look on Maxwell’s face as he sat across from Gabe was pensive
as if he was about to interrupt again but questioned the insolence. The
killer had nothing but time, but he didn’t like breaking his train of
thought so early.
Rodd currently resides in Dallas TX. He shares his life with numerous cats, dogs and his partner of many years. He has projects under his belt and is working on many others. Some of his works are “There Is Always Another Boogey Man”, “Jesse”, “Justice Denied”, “Short Ride to Hell” and the recently completed “A Cache of Killers”. The third book in the series is out and ready for reading and is titled "No Place for the Wicked." His newest book "Rubble and the Wreckage" has JUST GONE LIVE and he hopes to have another by the end of the year.
Always penning the next work, Rodd likes to keep busy with writing and reading and of course his menagerie of critters.
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Mikky's Note- I, personally, cannot wait to read this book.
Mikky's Note- I, personally, cannot wait to read this book.
2 comments:
Thank you Mikky for a spot on your great blogsite.
It was my pleasure, Rodd. Can't wait to read the book :)
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