The Doll Collector's Son

Chapter 11 - Maria

I activated Siri to call Jordan. There was only one way to clear this bad feeling. A car zoomed up from behind me and suddenly swerved in front of me. I hit the brakes, slamming forward into the steering wheel. Pain shot down my chest, but it was soon rivaled by the pain in my hand when I slammed it into the horn. The amount of profanity that came out of my mouth would make the navy blush. The driver got out with a camera in hand. In the rearview, I spotted the local news station van pulling up.

Suddenly my car was swarmed with hands beating on the glass, cameras flashing and rolling everywhere. I pulled down the sun visor and placed a hand over my face as I hit the horn. The blaring wasn't enough to drown out the questions pouring out of the reporters in suits. What do you make of the new Doll Collector killings? Have they contacted you? Do you miss your old husband, Kris? Mrs. Marner! Mrs. Marner. Mrs. Doll Collector. Your son! Is the new killer your son?

New Doll Collector killings? I lifted my hand off the horn, using it to shield the rest of my face. I needed a safe space to think. My god the notes! This killer was mimicking Kris' murders, and proclaiming himself to be the new Doll Collector? This had to be the bad feeling. I set the transmission in park and revved the engine, laying on the horn. The crowd moved in closer to my car, calling on my bluff. Suddenly a hand hit the driver's side window. I flinched, looking up. Relief washed over me as I recognized Zach. He shoved a few people away, using his body as shield so I could open the door and prepare to slip out.

Their voices were louder and now I could hear the camera shutters. Our 25 years of peace was obliterated, all in the name of Kristopher Marner. It started small, like a spark deep within my belly, but soon the blaze of rage swelled up into my chest. It rose up into my head, making me go dizzy for a few seconds. I needed to cause damage, and if these reporters didn't get away from me, one of them was going to end up on the ground. Zach held me close to his chest as we pushed our way through. The words flying at me were changing. They sounded angry and charged.

I raised my head to where they were coming from. Other people had gathered, holding up signs of... what? Protest? They called me a whore and a slut. They accused me of raising a serial killer like his father. I saw the sun glint off of green glass bottles as they raised them. I screamed Zach's name, but they were much faster. The bottles rained down on us, shattering as they hit the ground. I felt the skin of my forehead split as one made contact with it. Some were filled with liquid I them realized was urine. The back of my head throbbed as a full bottle hit it dead center. Zach groaned beside me, cursing.

I looked up, finding a stream of blood running down his face. His eyes were ablaze with anger as another bottle filled with urine splashed at our feet. The path finally cleared and we bolted for the safety of our property. Adrian and Luciana had turned around and formed a barricade by driving their cars onto the lawn. Luciana was at the front door, waving us in, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Zach and I rushed in, hearing Adrian behind us, ordering those goddamn reporters to get off our property.

Luciana brought us towels, but what we needed were showers... and the FBI. I fumbled with the first aid kit, pressing gauze to the wound on Zach's head. He'd gone silent, a sure sign that he was angry beyond words. I worried for a moment that he was angry with me. Throughout our marriage, he'd gotten angry with me plenty of times. I brought a dog home without asking, I accidentally dinged his car when I borrowed it. But this, anger over my mistake with Kris was the type of anger I feared. It was the type of anger that led to divorce and after spending 26 years together, I couldn't let him go.

God, I sounded like Kris. I shivered at the memory, I will never let you go. Zach pressed a hand to the gauze, telling me to hit the shower first. It was then the stench of the urine really hit me. Whoever the hell filled those bottles was clearly not drinking enough water. How the hell did they get that much urine?