Identity: Chapter Forty-Seven
#48 of Identity
A serial killer is on the loose in the city of San Fernando, long hailed as a haven for gay people. Rookie policewolf Ned Parker has made it his mission to stop the killer, but Ned's relationship with a mysterious coyote may complicate matters.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
MIKEY
At that moment the crocodile was feeling very smart indeed.
Mikey's hotel room had evidentially previously sheltered a female guest, because the room smelled strongly of perfumes, so much that his nose twitched and he considered asking for a room switch. But he'd already carried his bags - what few there were - into the room, so he'd stick with it. He didn't have many possessions anymore; most had burned up in the house explosion. Much later, after the thrill of killing Joey and outwitting the cops had begun to wear off, he'd remembered those things at the house that had belonged to him - but it had blown up so thoroughly that it would have been near-impossible for anything in connection with him to have survived the blast.
The feeling of elation was returned now; the thrill of seeing fresh blood, of seeing life ebb from a face, of watching ears and tail and limps lose their posture and settle into the still finality of death. It was magical, Mikey thought. Death had captivated him, the gift he brought to people. People like Joey. The guilt had entirely faded by now; Mikey knew he'd given Joey an amazing gift, something truly wonderful. Joey was freed of this rotten world, and Mikey, who knew with clarity that he'd never loved Joey, not really, was free to search the world for Brett, his one true love.
He knew how it would go. He'd find Brett; they would reconnect, and he would confess his undying love for the husky. They'd embrace; Mikey's muzzle pressed into that thick white fur of the dog's chest, his arms around Brett's black shoulders, and swear to love each other forever. And then, he would share with Brett the real joy he'd found. Brett would join him without hesitation. And together they would travel the world as the greatest serial killers in the history of intelligent life, unstoppable, outsmarting all attempts to catch them.
It was thoughts like these that were running through his brain as he arranged his belongings in the room. His work things here, his killing instruments there, and the small bag of groceries went in the refrigerator. It would be different living alone - but just think of when he and Brett were together, how wonderful it would be! He couldn't wait.
After he'd opened a bottle of wine to celebrate - a bottle leftover from the night he'd stabbed that irritating reporter Holly Vaughn in her own hotel room - he turned on the television, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch. No surprise, every news station was blabbering about Senator Johnson's arrest, showing frequent footage both of the badger protesting as he was arrested, of child-care people taking away Johnson's hysterical son, and occasionally, of the smouldering embers of Joey's house, little more than a blackened heap of smoking rubble. Watching this was like a dream come true. Mikey had never imagined this would actually happen. He'd intended to make people think twice about the senator; to draw negative attention to the TMF and its founder, but he had never expected to actually see Johnson arrested for the murders. Oh, he'd considered it - especially after he'd found out that the badger drove a Prius, and one of the same colour as Joey's car. That seemed like too much of a coincidence not to take advantage of it. And then when he'd been puzzling over what to do with Joey's body -
He let out a long, relaxed sigh, letting himself fall back onto the bed. Life was just swell.