The Executioner

Twenty-Six

Ryan Turner arrived at Reilly’s Estate Agency in West Hollywood an hour and fifteen minutes late. Amanda had only talked to the prospective buyer over the phone and she wasn’t really sure of what to expect. She was pleasantly surprised.

Ryan was around six-two, in his early forties and well built. His dark brown hair was short, conservative and clean, in harmony with the rest of him. He was executively dressed in an expensive-looking dark suit with perfectly polished shoes. He spoke with a hint of a southern accent.

‘I’m sorry for being late,’ he said as he firmly shook Amanda’s hand. ‘Business people always babble on more than they should.’

‘It’s no problem at all, Mr. Turner,’ she replied, giving him her warmest smile. ‘I’m glad you could make it.’

‘I’m really looking forward to seeing this house. From what I saw on your website, it looks perfect.’

Amanda’s smile widened.

‘And please,’ he continued, ‘call me Ryan.’

‘Only if you call me Amanda.’

‘Deal.’

Ryan convinced Amanda to ride with him. With traffic, the drive took them just over an hour. Amanda spent the first twenty-five minutes telling Ryan how wonderful the property was. Her rehearsed speech rolled off her tongue like poetry. For the rest of the drive they talked about everything, from business to Christmas presents.

The first thing Ryan noticed as they drove through the grand electronic iron gates of the property in Malibu was the tennis court to the left of it.

‘Impressive,’ he said.

Things were going just as Amanda hoped they would.

The rest of the house didn’t disappoint Ryan. Over six thousand square feet of living space with high wood-beamed ceilings in places and magnificent marble floors. Its interior had been luxuriously decorated with modern and stylish furniture. Ingenious light fixtures made every room relaxed and warm. Outside, the spacious entertaining and seating area and large pool with spa provided the final touches to the house.

As he explored each room, Ryan tried to conceal his excitement by keeping his leather-gloved hands tucked into the pockets of his long black overcoat. But the smile on his face gave him away. In this case, the house was literally selling itself.

‘Do you mind if we take another look in the living room before we go?’ he asked as he stared out of the window of the master bedroom on the second floor, overlooking the beach.

‘Of course not,’ Amanda replied, trying hard to curb her enthusiasm.

As they entered the living room, Amanda stood by the large, hand-carved wooden double doors. She seemed a little apprehensive.

Ryan was standing behind a lavish white leather sofa positioned just off the center of the immense room, his eyes glued to the ostentatious river rock fireplace that occupied part of the south wall.

‘I take it that the fireplace works?’ he asked, turning to face Amanda.

‘Yes. Everything in this house works perfectly.’

‘And I’m guessing it’s a gas fire instead of log. Or else I’ll need a small forest to fire up this thing.’

Amanda noticed he said ‘I’ll need’ and bit her lip to conceal her smile. ‘You’re right. It’s a gas fire.’

‘Could we light it up so I could have a look?’

The question caught Amanda by surprise, and she stared at Ryan wide-eyed.

‘Are you OK?’

‘Umm… yes, I’m fine.’ It took her a few seconds to regain her composure. ‘I guess it’ll be OK if you wanna light it up, but if you don’t mind I’ll wait in the kitchen.’

Ryan narrowed his eyes and took a couple of steps towards Amanda. ‘Is there something the matter?’

‘Not at all. Everything is just fine.’ Though she put on a brave face, she failed to convince him.

‘Everything isn’t just fine. The color is gone from your face, Amanda. Did I miss something?’ Ryan’s eyes searched the room.

‘No, no…’ Her reaction had startled him and she knew it. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the house or the fireplace. I guarantee it.’

‘So what’s wrong? I’m very good at reading people, and something is definitely bothering you.’

Amanda took a deep breath. ‘I… I don’t like fires very much.’ Her eyes found the floor like a timid little girl.

Ryan let out a nervous chuckle. He stepped within two feet of her and tried to catch her eyes once again. ‘Really?’

Amanda lifted her head and stared into Ryan’s caring eyes.

‘A bad experience?’ he asked in a soft voice.

Her lips made a thin line as she nodded.

Ryan placed a comforting hand on Amanda’s left shoulder. ‘Do you wanna know something?’ he said after a short silence. ‘I’m petrified of spiders.’

Her lips widened into a tentative smile.

‘When I was a young kid, I had an attic room in this old timber house,’ he said calmly. ‘One night, I fell asleep reading. It must’ve been around three or four in the morning when I felt something tickling the back of my neck.’

‘Oh God!’ Amanda exclaimed with a quick shiver.

‘Still half asleep, I tried to scratch the annoying tickle. I ended up pissing the spider off and pushing it into the collar of my shirt.’

‘Urgh!’

‘It was a common brown recluse spider, the type that bites more than once. I guess the one in my shirt was really hungry because it bit me several times.’

Amanda made an ‘irk’ face and rubbed her hand urgently against her nape.

‘Unfortunately, my body reacted really badly to the bites. I had fever, chills, nausea and these large white blisters popped up where I’d been bitten. Since then, every time I see a spider I act like the biggest wimp you’ll ever see. Even my voice changes to a high-pitched one and I sound like a Barbie doll.’

‘Really?’ Amanda chuckled.

‘Trust me.’ He nodded and smiled. ‘It’s very embarrassing.’

She didn’t like talking about what happened, but she felt comfortable with him. She also needed to convince Ryan that there was nothing wrong with the house.

‘I was young when it happened,’ she said, brushing her fringe from her face. ‘My friend and I were playing. Pretending we were cooking. I don’t really know how it happened, but my clothes caught fire.’

Ryan’s interest grew.

‘In a way, I was lucky,’ she continued. ‘Only the back of my dress lit up. Have you ever been burned?’ she asked.

Ryan shook his head. ‘Not in that way.’

‘The pain is hard to describe.’ She paused, searching for words to illustrate it. ‘It’s not like scalding or touching a hot iron. It’s not a stinging kind of pain. It’s something so intense your brain ceases to work and you pray for death. I felt my skin melting. I could smell my hair burning.’ Amanda softly touched her hair with her right hand. Her gaze distant. ‘We were alone in the house that day. By the time my friend managed to find some water and throw it over me, most of my back and neck had burned.’

They looked at each other in silence for a while.

‘I’m truly sorry,’ he said.

‘It’s OK. It’s not your fault. I should learn to control it, really, but I just can’t. Any type of fire simply freaks me out.’

Ryan walked back to the center of the living room. Amanda followed him.

‘I did see a psychologist about my fear of spiders,’ he announced. ‘You know, they have these special therapies that are supposed to help you get rid of any phobias.’

‘What happened?’ she asked curiously.

‘The psychologist talked a lot and after a few sessions he decided I was ready to face my fear. He brought in this huge hairy spider and placed it in my hand to try and prove they were harmless.’

‘Did it work?’

‘Did it hell. I peed myself before running out of the room screaming like a lunatic.’

Amanda laughed.

‘Maybe some fears are not meant to be conquered.’ He stepped closer to the leather sofa. Amanda was standing about two feet in front of him, staring at the fireplace.

His hand wrapped around something inside his pocket.

‘You know when you told me about the incident when you were young and how scared you are of fires?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she replied without turning around.

His voice suddenly changed: ‘I already knew.’

Before she was able to turn and face him, he grabbed her from behind, covering her nose and mouth with a wet cloth.