Phantom Island-"Origins"-7

Byron spent most of the next day preparing to dump his ex. Once everything was ready for that night, he went out to treat himself to lunch at his favorite café.

As he ate, he finalized his plans for the night:

1. Dump ex.

2. Track new girlfriend.

3. Supper.

4. Clean basement.

Dump Vivian, he corrected himself. He wouldn’t allow himself to fall into the mental ways of common criminals. He would remember her name and the names of all the others forever.

Vivian. He thought her name again. He had liked her name so much at first, now it just seemed silly. She had been silly too. Just another silly little girl, who thought she could play house with him for a while then just leave without so much as a goodbye.

The new one would be better, he told himself. He smiled at the thought of her. He had spent the entire night watching her videos and he couldn’t wait to meet her.

He would stick to his protocol of course; watching and learning about her for a while first. He was always careful to keep his emotions in check. Being too eager or impatient could get one caught.

He pushed away from the table, settled his bill, and headed home. It would be sunset soon and time to rid himself of Vivian and start tracking down his new lady. He wanted to start looking for her now but it just wouldn’t be gentlemanly of him to start a new courtship before properly ending his current relationship.

He had already decided to put off cleaning the basement so he could at least see her in person and maybe find out where she lives. Maybe it was a bit foolish of him to reorganize his agenda but what the hell? What is a little foolishness when it comes to love?

It was around midnight when he finished with Vivian and he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept for a couple of nights and proper disposal of an entire body was time and energy-consuming. He hoped to retire from it soon. He truly hated breakups and the messes they tended to leave behind.

His new lady would be different, he just knew it. He also knew that as bad as he wanted to begin his search for her right away, it would have to wait. He needed sleep. It wouldn’t do to fall asleep on their first night, would it?

He sprayed down the basement with the hot water hose to keep the blood from drying to everything then went to shower and sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, he went ahead and finished cleaning the basement, then had another shower. If he got close to his lady he didn’t want to smell like cleaning chemicals.

After his shower, he set out everything he needed to start his search and surveillance. He had mapped out the first search zone according to where the surveillance cameras had been posted. He narrowed down the list of potential residences based on what he knew about criminal behavior.

1. They need isolation.

2. They mostly go out at night which meant they would need access to at least one all-night store.

3. They tend to only pay rent with cash and stay where the landlord only cares about said cash.

4. They tend to have neighbors who are as questionable in nature as they are. They all want privacy and stay to themselves.

All of these facts left two top choices, both of which are downtown; the downtown apartments and the old motel. He was betting that no lady of his would live in a motel, old or otherwise, which left his first stop the downtown apartments.

He gathered his gear and made the fifteen-minute drive to the apartments. As he sat outside watching the building, he thought of her and what she must be like.

She would probably prefer a room toward the top floor, one with a bit of a view, he thought. His lady was smart so she would have a room with a reliable escape route.

Byron was watching the front entrance and the fire escape in the alleyway when he spotted some movement on the roof of the building next door. He rolled his eyes. He didn’t care who they were or what they were doing as long as they didn’t interfere. If they did he would have no mercy on them.

Suddenly, the figure jumped from the roof of the neighboring building onto the roof of the apartment building. In the moonlight, Byron could see that the figure was of a female. She went over to the edge of the roof and began climbing down the fire escape latter. She then opened the window to an apartment on the top floor and went inside. The lights came on and he could see her silhouette changing clothes in front of the window.

That’s an interesting way to get into your own place, he thought to himself.

He took out his camera and zoomed in on her. It was his lady. Her curves and movements were unmistakable to him at this point. He had watched all four of her videos twice; the first to see the content, the second to study her.

He began taking pictures and calculating which apartment was hers; seventh floor, right side of the building, last apartment on her hall, on the right.

He waited until a few minutes after she turned out the lights before making his way across the street and into the building. He took the elevator up and went straight to her door.

He stood in front of her door and tried to imagine what she looked like up close. Which side of the bed did she prefer? Did she sleep with one arm over her head or with her hands tucked neatly under her cheek? He was willing to bet that she slept like an angel.

He pictured the layout of her apartment. It was a small, one-bedroom so there would be little room to struggle and almost impossible for her to get away.

These places tended to have narrow doorways that he could easily block just by standing in them. There was the window and fire escape to keep in mind, as well as her apparent agility; none of his exes would ever consider jumping across rooftops.

Byron made his way down to the front desk and got a brochure for the apartments. Tomorrow he would call and arrange a tour of the building. He would specifically look around on the seventh floor, maybe even bump into her.

He was too well known to get a tour anonymously so he would have to use some pretense of an investigation. Though technically he was conducting an investigation, he had no intention of doing so on behalf of the department. This was strictly a personal endeavor.

This place was full of criminals, he need only to choose his prey. He could find out about every tenant in the building and choose the worst one. He couldn’t very well start arresting the common criminals without provoking suspicion. Besides, he would end up arresting everyone here for one thing or another.

The thought of dealing with such common, insignificant pests had him curling his lip in disdain.

Maybe simply showing his face here would be enough. People who were up to no good always moved quickly in the opposing direction. The worse they were, the faster they ran.

As he walked back to his car he began to work out the details.

He would call in the morning to set up a walk through with a manager or someone with access to keys to all the apartments. He would come after lunch since that’s the time when most of the tenants would be waking up. This would ensure that enough of them would see him there to get them talking.

He grinned at the thought of them all gossiping about who he was coming there for. He knew they feared him, he reveled in it. When he didn’t make a move right away, the suspense/paranoia would get to a particularly guilty party and they would move.

This would also give him just cause to sit outside the building at all hours and come and go as he pleased.

The surveillance, taking pictures, randomly walking through the building, asking personal questions about the tenants, and getting a list of their names and how long they’ve been there; all of these things would be considered normal in his line of work.

Work. That was another thing. He would be getting paid for every minute of it.

Once he was home, he pulled out his sketch pad and started a rough drawing of what he imagined her apartment to look like.

Page after page he sketched; walking through the front door into the living room, down the tiny hallway, past the bathroom and into her bedroom.

She would be asleep. On her left side, facing him, with her hands tucked under her face. Her hair would be spread out on the pillow behind her head.

Before he realized it, he had drawn her just that way. No distinguishable features yet, just her curvaceous figure sleeping in the moonlit room.

He was excited. He would see her as soon as tomorrow, maybe even hear her speak. Maybe she would say his name.

As he fantasized about their first encounter, he rethought all the plans he had made thus far. He didn’t want to waste time pretending he was there for someone else. He wanted to go straight to her and let her know that he was there especially for her.

He had never tried that before. Of course, all the others had seen him first. They had flirted and teased him. They had wanted him, they had said. They had wanted one night or one week to play with him and nothing more. They were all silly, bored little girls who had no idea what they wanted from life.

This one is different. She’s a true lady, he could tell. She would likely appreciate a direct approach. She would probably enjoy being properly courted.

So, that’s the new plan. He would skip all the other nonsense and go straight to her. No. He would follow her a while to see what kinds of foods she likes, how she dresses, and where she shops. He would watch and learn. Did she pet every dog she saw? Smile at all the kids she passed?

He would simply learn about her. That would make his courtship much better. He would know what kind of gifts to bring when he did finally introduce himself.

When that day arrived, he would just knock on her door and say hi. He would introduce himself, state his interest in her and present her with a gift. She would love it.

If she refused his courtship, he would implement plan B. Take her anyway.

END of Story 2-"Byron"-Part 3

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