Chapter Sixteen Barbed Wire Killer
Chapter Sixteen
Barbed Wire Killer
I used the side of my key chain to scratch the word Karva off the recycled coaster that came with my beer. I needed something to take the edge off what had happened, and I also needed to check in.
The low lighting and the way the lamps were located on the tables cast shadows around the room.
It made it difficult to make out faces, and it worked in my favor as I rested a shoulder against the wall of the table.
The place was a favorite with the locals, and not many visitors strayed to this part of town.
The door opened, and I spotted Bradley. Then, to my absolute delight, there was no Sherry trailing in behind him.
The constant sour look she usually wore when they were with his friends rubbed me raw.
I hated that bitch. I’d left her alone because Bradley was on the right course.
Lately I had begun to doubt that, but now I could see I’d been right.
“Is that a matryoshka doll?” A woman had moved between me and the table I’d been watching. She pointed at my key chain. “Yeah, it is.” She picked it up. “Does it open? I love how they nest. Or is it just one solid piece of wood?”
“It nests.” I took a swig of my beer and tried to control my temper. I hated to be interrupted when I needed to be alone.
“Can you show me?” She moved to sit, but I hooked my foot around the chair leg to hold it in place. She jerked back when it didn’t budge.
I snatched the key chain and glared at her.
“Wow! Okay, red flag much.” She scowled, and I flicked my wrist for her to move on. “Asshole.”
“Bye,” I muttered into the head of the beer. I went back to watching.
I saw that Bradley kept his eyes trained on the door, then I saw why. Bree arrived.
“Well, what are you going to do?” a girl whispered loudly from the table behind me. “I mean, it’s Brad and it’s you—you’re endgame.” I strained to listen better.
“I thought we were, but now with that bombshell bitch back, his head is clouded.”
“Do you think he saw you and Jim? You two can’t keep your hands off one another.”
“If he did, he’ll get over that. I just need to make him see that I wasn’t in the right headspace.
Bradley needs me, not her.” Sherry’s whiny voice cut me like shards of glass.
“I can’t believe he had his hand on her this morning at the station.
He’s mine, and I just need to send Bree a reminder of that. ”
“How?”
“Well, she’s been run off the road into a lake, and nearly taken out by a serial killer at the fair.” There was a pause. “I read Bradley’s files when he’s not home—the perks of having the spare key and having that mutt stay at my place.”
“Smart.” Her friend must have tipped her beer back because I heard the slosh.
“So, Bree can handle a lot and doesn’t scare easily. I just need to find something that will do the trick.” They giggled together.
I stared down at the small face on my matryoshka key chain and pressed it hard into my palm as I listened to the nasty bitch.
I’ve put up with so much. I will not have Sherry ruin everything. I’m done.
I dropped the key chain onto the table and pulled out the matchbox from my pocket. I pressed my thumb to the end of the box to push it out of its sleeve. Three small knots of barbed wire lay innocently together.
It was time.