then to full barks. âI didnât know you had it in you, girl. But donât worry, youâll see Tommy again soon.â
Faith eased her foot on the brake until the car came to a gentle stop. A quick glance in the rearview mirror verified no cars were coming, so she turned fully around to check on her new friend. Chicaâs tail stood at attention. She pawed the side window, her claws clattering against the glass. Faithâs body tensed as she looked past Chica toward her house. A man with black hair appeared in her kitchen window, then ducked out of sight. Her foot came off the brake, and the car lurched. Heart racing in her chest, she stomped the brake and reached for her phone.
Â
SIX
Monday, July 22, 7:30 P.M.
S courge bolted into his house and slammed the front door behind him. Unable to catch his breath, he doubled over and waited for his chest to stop heaving, his racing thoughts to slow. A full minute passed before he could breathe and think normally again. He straightened, went back outside, and craned his neck, looking in every direction to ensure no one was there. His ears pricked, but he heard no sirens. He was sure Dr. Faith Clancy had spotted him inside her kitchenâÂheâd certainly seen her, phone in hand, no doubt calling 911. Then heâd raced out the back and scrambled over the fence before the police could arrive.
He told himself to calm down. After all, heâd made it home safely. His breath still hitching occasionally, he retrieved the evening paper from the porch and went back inside, shutting the door behind him again. This time he engaged the dead bolt and chain.
How could he have been so careless? He knew Dr. Clancyâs schedule, and yet heâd timed his scouting expedition to her house poorly. True, she usually returned home a good forty-Âfive minutes later, but heâd cut things far too close. Not everyone stuck to a routine as faithfully as he did.
Once more, accusing words replayed in his head.
Itâs not like you to get detoured by a pretty face. You should just throw that brochure away. Faith Clancy was never part of the plan, and you donât need more practice.
But he did! He wasnât ready for the Donovans. Not yet .
And he had twenty-Âthree days left, so where was the harm?
Admit the real reason you chose her. Youâre letting your dick lead you around. Youâre no different than any other man.
In truth, his dick was hardening now, just thinking of the beautiful psychiatrist with the sad eyes. Well what of it? After the Donovans, heâd be headed for Mexico to live out Perryâs dream of sun and sand and freedom. Before he retired, he deserved, just once, to kill for his own pleasure. Heâd earned that right.
Perspiration beaded on Scourgeâs upper lip, tickling his skin in a most unpleasant way. He pulled out his linen handkerchief and dabbed his upper lip dry. Holding the scrap of linen by the corner, he hurried to deposit it in the dirty-Âclothes hamper, then thoroughly washed his hands. After returning to the living room, he seated himself in a hard-Âback chair and unfolded the evening paper. He read the headline, and a fine tremor started up in his hands, intensifying until his entire body shookâÂso hard the chair seemed to vibrate beneath his thighs. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. A strangled cry escaped his lips.
S A N T A F E S A I N T I N C U S T O D Y . L O C A L M A N C O N F E S S E S .
Tuesday, July 23, 7:00 A.M.
S courge woke up with damp hair clinging to the back of his neck and cold sweat dripping down his forehead. One of his arms was flung off the side of the bed. The other was smashed between his stomach and the mattress. From above, a lightbulb buzzed loud enough to make his teeth vibrate. But that wasnât the worst of the noise.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
His mind still clouded with sleep, he didnât immediately recognize the source of the
Faith eased her foot on the brake until the car came to a gentle stop. A quick glance in the rearview mirror verified no cars were coming, so she turned fully around to check on her new friend. Chicaâs tail stood at attention. She pawed the side window, her claws clattering against the glass. Faithâs body tensed as she looked past Chica toward her house. A man with black hair appeared in her kitchen window, then ducked out of sight. Her foot came off the brake, and the car lurched. Heart racing in her chest, she stomped the brake and reached for her phone.
Â
SIX
Monday, July 22, 7:30 P.M.
S courge bolted into his house and slammed the front door behind him. Unable to catch his breath, he doubled over and waited for his chest to stop heaving, his racing thoughts to slow. A full minute passed before he could breathe and think normally again. He straightened, went back outside, and craned his neck, looking in every direction to ensure no one was there. His ears pricked, but he heard no sirens. He was sure Dr. Faith Clancy had spotted him inside her kitchenâÂheâd certainly seen her, phone in hand, no doubt calling 911. Then heâd raced out the back and scrambled over the fence before the police could arrive.
He told himself to calm down. After all, heâd made it home safely. His breath still hitching occasionally, he retrieved the evening paper from the porch and went back inside, shutting the door behind him again. This time he engaged the dead bolt and chain.
How could he have been so careless? He knew Dr. Clancyâs schedule, and yet heâd timed his scouting expedition to her house poorly. True, she usually returned home a good forty-Âfive minutes later, but heâd cut things far too close. Not everyone stuck to a routine as faithfully as he did.
Once more, accusing words replayed in his head.
Itâs not like you to get detoured by a pretty face. You should just throw that brochure away. Faith Clancy was never part of the plan, and you donât need more practice.
But he did! He wasnât ready for the Donovans. Not yet .
And he had twenty-Âthree days left, so where was the harm?
Admit the real reason you chose her. Youâre letting your dick lead you around. Youâre no different than any other man.
In truth, his dick was hardening now, just thinking of the beautiful psychiatrist with the sad eyes. Well what of it? After the Donovans, heâd be headed for Mexico to live out Perryâs dream of sun and sand and freedom. Before he retired, he deserved, just once, to kill for his own pleasure. Heâd earned that right.
Perspiration beaded on Scourgeâs upper lip, tickling his skin in a most unpleasant way. He pulled out his linen handkerchief and dabbed his upper lip dry. Holding the scrap of linen by the corner, he hurried to deposit it in the dirty-Âclothes hamper, then thoroughly washed his hands. After returning to the living room, he seated himself in a hard-Âback chair and unfolded the evening paper. He read the headline, and a fine tremor started up in his hands, intensifying until his entire body shookâÂso hard the chair seemed to vibrate beneath his thighs. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. A strangled cry escaped his lips.
S A N T A F E S A I N T I N C U S T O D Y . L O C A L M A N C O N F E S S E S .
Tuesday, July 23, 7:00 A.M.
S courge woke up with damp hair clinging to the back of his neck and cold sweat dripping down his forehead. One of his arms was flung off the side of the bed. The other was smashed between his stomach and the mattress. From above, a lightbulb buzzed loud enough to make his teeth vibrate. But that wasnât the worst of the noise.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
His mind still clouded with sleep, he didnât immediately recognize the source of the
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