Chapter Three #2
I swallow a reply that it’s normal to go several days without talking to someone. Especially when you’re in a situation like Amber. Instead, I respond, “Tell me what happened.”
“She sent me this cryptic text a few days ago saying she was going to be out of touch for a while. But I know it’s not from her. I can tell. I mean, the texts look like she wrote them, but it’s not her. I swear.”
“I believe you, Jennifer. You have a mother’s intuition. That means something.”
“Not according to the police.”
“You talked to the cops?”
“Yes, but they said there’s nothing they can do.”
“The cops have a lot on their plate,” I say.
Which is true. We also don’t have the best department here in Tucson.
Not that I’m complaining. It makes my hobbies way easier to manage.
As far as I can tell, the police don’t even realize there’s a serial killer in the city.
And Jared was my eighth kill since moving here after college five years ago.
Though their bodies are never found, and I’m not stupid enough to leave behind evidence or a signature.
“Have you checked her apartment?”
“I don’t think she’s been there for a while. I can’t find her. I don’t know what to do.” Her words end on a sob.
“Breathe, it’s okay. Where are you? What happened?” I ask, wanting to know what exactly made her call now.
“I’m outside some dive bar in Palo Verde. He’s here drinking with his buddies.”
“Palo Verde? Why are you there?” My heartbeat ratchets up. The Iron Cage is in Palo Verde.
“I need to find Amber, and I know he knows something, so I’ve been looking for him. I finally found him, and when I asked about Amber, he just laughed. He laughed! Then he told me to stop worrying about her and move on with my life. He did something to my Amber. I know it.”
“Jennifer, I need you to get in your car and leave,” I say, grabbing my keys and quickly locking up my office. “You’re not safe there.”
“Amber—”
“She’s not there at that bar, is she?” I interrupt.
There’s a shaky breath on the other side, followed by fresh sobs and I think the word, “No.”
“Then you can leave. Getting yourself hurt won’t help Amber. Call the police and tell them what he said, but you need to leave first.” I don’t want the police involved, but it’d be highly suspicious if I didn’t suggest she call them.
“Okay… you should’ve seen his face, Ms. Graves. He did something to her, and he doesn’t care at all. My baby. He just… he laughed.”
“I know. Are you back in your car?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now call the police, then go home and get some rest.”
There’s a long pause before Jennifer whispers, “Okay.”
“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” I lie. Because it’s not going to be okay. “ He’ll take care of her,” the biker had said. Amber’s injuries have gotten worse, and by the way I’ve seen Theo handle her, there’s no doubt in my mind that he did “take care of her.”
Amber is gone. Probably dead.
The only consolation is that Theo will be joining her in the afterlife sooner rather than later.
~
I would’ve liked a few more weeks watching Theo.
Planning and, preferably, making contact.
But Jennifer’s call incentivizes me to speed up the timeline.
Logically, I know if he did something to Amber, then killing him sooner won’t help anything.
But the flames curled around my ribs don’t care about logic. They just want to incinerate something.
Every kill is different. This one just won’t have any interaction with my prey until the final day.
Which is fine. It just means I’ll have to drug Theo.
I can’t take him down by force, and I don’t have time to seduce him back to my place.
Plus, he won’t trust me enough to walk into my basement like Jared did.
Theo must be alone when I strike, away from any cameras or witnesses. I need space and time to get him into my car and to my basement.
My plan will work. The worst case scenario is a too-quick kill and a left-behind body with no trace of me. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.
I struggle through Taco Tuesday with the girls. All three act the same as always, showing no sign of noticing anything is different.
Can they really not feel the heat emanating from my chest? Or see the sparks in my eyes?
My calm goodbyes and gentle hugs in the parking lot bely the bonfire under my skin.
Having most of Theo’s schedule memorized at this point, I don’t hesitate before heading to the small playground on the very edge of Tucson’s north border.
I never learned why Theo comes here on the second Tuesday of every month, but he does.
Or at least, he did in October, November, and December.
My plan hinges on him repeating the habit this month.
The last three times, he didn’t arrive until after midnight, so I park across the street and double-check everything.
I have my midazolam syringes on hand and diazepam syringes in the car in case he needs more later.
The back of my car is covered in plastic wrap, there are no weapons within range of where Theo will be in case he wakes up too early, and my mask is waiting on the passenger seat.
I don’t expect him to get free, but I don’t want him to see my face until he’s secured in the basement.
My heart nearly jumps in my throat from anticipation when I hear the familiar engine of a motorcycle drawing closer.
Right on time.
Theo parks, climbs off the bike, and hangs his helmet on the handlebars. He walks to the playground with his hands in his pockets.
Sheathing the knife I’d been sharpening, I tuck a syringe up my sleeve, pull on the mask, and jump from my car.
I walk on the balls of my feet across the street and pass the motorcycle, which I’ll come back to dispose of after he’s safely tied in my basement.
I think the knowledge that I’ve destroyed his precious bike will be just as torturous as anything else I’ll do.
Roaring flames and a thunderous heartbeat fill my ears. Theo is standing completely still in the middle of the playground, unaware of his approaching doom.
A foot away from him, I pull out the syringe and lift my arm, aiming for the major artery in his neck. Thumb hovering over the plunger, I bring my hand down, needle glinting in the moonlight.
My arm freezes halfway to his neck.
No, it’s stopped.
By Theo’s hand.
He’d reached up and grabbed my arm faster than I could process.
My lips part in shock, and I fight against his hold.
“Now is really not the time.”
It takes a moment for the words to penetrate the roaring in my ears. I belatedly realize Theo said them, and he sounds pissed.
Instinct replacing shock, my left hand reaches for the sheathed knife.
Once again, my movement is thrown off course.
This time, it’s from Theo turning to face me.
He briefly lets go of my right hand but knocks the syringe out of my grip before I can attack.
Then he spins me around and shoves me so my back is pressed against the pole of the swing set.
He moves closer, towering over me and pinning my arms at my side, then positions his feet outside of mine and brackets my legs with his, restricting any possible movement.
Too slowly, I put together what’s happening.
Theo took control. He stopped me before I could drug him.
I can try fighting, but he’s more trained than most of the men I take down.
I’m fucked.
“Did you really think I would be that easy?” he asks.
I blink at him. His eyes are browner than I realized. I thought they were black, but nope, they’re dark brown. Like a mix of ebony and mahogany.
He sneers. Some might call it a smile, but it’s much too sinister for that. It’s the look of a predator about to devour his prey.
“But nice try, June.” Then he rips off my mask.