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I look across to the other side of the room and see a young woman sitting on the floor with a two- or three-year-old. The toddler is rummaging through the box of secondhand toys wedged between the last chair and the window. The woman pulls out a book and shows the little one with a tired smile. He then yanks a large toy truck from the box and laughs.
I turn back to the desk when a throat clears. I frown when I don’t see the older couple, but when I crane my neck, I spot them disappearing around the corner with a police officer behind them.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Yes, my boyfriend was brought in for questioning.” Boyfriend sounds so juvenile, but I’m not sure what else to call him.
“Name?”
“Valen Ward.”
The cop looks up and frowns before his eyes roam over me from top to bottom. His expression is one that wonders what Valen sees in me. I ignore him and wait for him to tell me what I need to know.
“Mr. Ward is being interrogated right now if you’d like to take a seat, Miss…” his voice trails off as he waits for me to answer.
“Miss Anderson. Rue Anderson.”
He pauses for a minute before his eyes widen, and he drops his pen. I hear it roll across the countertop before it tumbles over the edge and hits the ground.
“You’re here for Ward? But you’re the?—”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Ward is being targeted, and I’m not sure why. If you have something on him to prove it was him, then charge him. But if not, let him go before I insist he file a formal complaint, and I’ll be joining him. Why are you all wasting your time chasing Valen? The real killer is out there somewhere, watching and waiting to make his next move.” I don’t know when my belief in Valen’s innocence solidified in my mind. Maybe I always knew. Either way, I’m done letting these assholes make him the scapegoat when he could have killed me ten times over already.
“Ma’am, calm down.”
Telling a woman to calm down is the equivalent of pulling a pin from a hand grenade. Still, I bite my tongue because this is a cop, and it won’t do me or Valen any good if we both end up in jail.
“I am calm, officer. I’m also frustrated. From what I can gather, Valen reported a theft at his place of work and called you immediately, and your first instinct was to bring him down to the station, walking him through his building like he had done something wrong. Yet, from what I can tell, Valen Ward has done everything right. He’s cooperated, answered questions, and allowed you access to areas he would normally keep people out of. And still, it’s not enough. I’d ask what it is you want exactly, but something tells me the only acceptable answer is for him to give you a signed confession.”
“Hey, what’s going on here?” I turn at the sound of the voice beside me and see an unfamiliar female cop reaching for my arm. As soon as she touches me, everything around me disappears.
The smell of hay makes my nose itch,but I try to ignore it, focusing instead on the task at hand.
The big bastard lying in front of me is no help,thanks to the drugs in his system. It’s a shame Sono-d only knocks them out and steals their memories. It would be nice if it made people more open to suggestions. That way,I could get this fucker to rig up his own execution.
Oh well, we do what we must.
I make sure my gloves are on tight before picking up the rope, not wanting any of my skin to get caught in the fibers. I wrap the rope around the sturdy wooden frame that looks down over the pigpens below it. It takes me a while to make sure it’s secure,and my hands are cramping like hell by the time I’m done. But the last thing I want is the rope snapping before the deed is done.
I take a few minutes to catch my breath; the oppressive summer heat making me crave a glass of sweet iced tea.There’ll be plenty of time for that once I’m done.
I tap the unconscious man on the forehead and grin. They say the bigger they are, the harder they fall.Well,I’m about to test that theory.
I lift his head, slip the noose around his neck, and adjust it until it’s snug but not cutting off his airways. Not yet, anyway. After checking everything over until I’m sure it’s good, I sit back and wait for him to wake up.
This is the part that both torments me and excites me. Hanging around is the easiest way to get myself caught.And now, thanks to the Sono-d,they’ll easily be able to tell how many victims belong to me, even though I kill them a different way each time. To start with,it was to make it harder for them to see a pattern. It wouldn’t do to get caught before my work is done. But after the third victim, I realized I like keeping them on their toes. It’s funny watching them come up withtheories about who the killer might be. How they think they can accurately profile someone they’ve never met is beyond me.
I’m a killer, sure, but I’m not like the others. I don’t kill for the sake of killing.I kill because it has to be done. It has to be these people,and it has to be me who does it. It has to be my eyes they look into before death takes them.
A cough draws my attention back to my friend,who is stirring. I lean back against the railing and hum a tune, waiting for him to notice me.
When he does, he jolts and then frowns.“Who are you? Where am I?”
“You’re at home on your ranch. Nice place. People question what makes someone turn to a life of crime,but you only have to look around here to see why.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? What happened to me?”
“I mean, how does a janitor make enough to buy this place? It has fifty acres of land with it,right? So many questions.But see, I know all your dirty little secrets,Len.”I grin.His eyes dart around uneasily before he tries and fails to sit up, the drugs still making him unaware of the danger he’s in.
