Chapter 11
ELEVEN
DAY TWO
Mystic
He’d watched the news this morning, wondering if they’d found the girl. But no story about her yet.
There would be though. He just had to keep waiting and watching.
Until then, he had to go through the day like it was normal just as he had before.
After his first teenage kill, he’d sweated bullets the entire day afterward and had to leave work early. He’d nearly pissed his pants when the story finally aired. A suicide.
Just as he’d planned. The local police hadn’t detected anything suspicious. With the girl’s history, the former sheriff had written it off as another tragedy of a troubled teen dying too young. Substance abuse. The perfect foil.
His second killing had been easier. He’d managed to cover his nerves and stay at work all day.
The news had hit mid-morning, and his coworker had been having coffee.
She’d gasped and teared up. He’d barely resisted the urge to smile and gloat.
Instead, he’d patted her hand and offered her sympathy.
He could be charming like that. He really could. He’d learned early on.
Laughter bubbled in his throat, but he managed to hold it down and checked his phone again. Still, no word. Anticipation built in his chest. There would be soon though.
He scrolled through his photographs, smiling as he glanced at the photo he’d taken as he’d watched Dana Jo Glasser in the park with her little girl recently. His attempt to kill her had failed. She was the one who’d gotten away.
Dammit, that still bugged the shit out of him.
He had to keep his eyes on her.
So far, she didn’t remember anything about what happened between them. The attack. Being left in the woods for dead. That infuriated him, too. He wanted her to remember his touch. His power over her. The fear she’d felt when she realized she was going to die.
How she’d survived was beyond him. Luck had been on his side in that when she’d regained consciousness, she’d repressed the memory.
Hadn’t even recognized him when he’d passed her on the way to her car the other day.
Of course, she was so messed up she barely came out of her house.
Stayed locked inside like a hermit, holding on to her mama’s coattails.
Hopefully she might not ever remember.
If he found out she had, he’d take her again. And this time she’d end up in the ground instead of going home to her daughter.