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And he was going to get away with it this time too.
It had nearly killed him, waiting to swoop in on Selene. But if he hadn’t, it might have become apparent that her demise wasn't all that it seemed. Killing Selene had been his first experience taking a life. It had been a whole lot easier than he would have imagined. The feel of the blade sliding so cleanly, so smoothly through the soft skin of Selene’s stomach. He hadn’t realized how long it took for someone to bleed out from a wound to the abdomen. It had taken hours for Selene to finally pass away. He’d found he enjoyed that. Her begged pleas for help could be granted or not entirely based on his whim. The power was immediately intoxicating. And like a drug he found himself hooked.
Yet he had played it safe again. Waited until the time was right before killing Claudia. This time he knew what to expect and the heightened anticipation added to his enjoyment. He had fleshed things out a little the second time around. Instead of killing Claudia in her home like he had Selene, he had taken the woman and her new husband out to an abandoned factory. Had a little fun before ending their lives.
Now he couldn’t wait so long between kills.
The compulsion to take a life was becoming too strong.
So, he had taken Emily Hadden even though there was no one to frame for her murder. Not that that worried him in the least. It had been fun having an audience, and both Jim and Ian had been an exquisite audience. They had strained against their restraints, tried to scream through their gags, and yet in the end they had been compliant. The threat of raping their women had been enough to convince both men to write the suicide notes. Of course as soon as the notes were written he had raped the women anyway. Promises of letting the women live had been sufficient to persuade the men to shoot themselves in the head. That had been important because it meant if anyone got suspicious then an investigation would prove that both wounds had been self-inflicted.
As of right now, he hadn’t really thought about who he would frame for Emily’s death, or even if he would bother. Even the police, stupid though they may be, must be catching on by now. Two women, both had been married to the same man and turned up dead in similar circumstances. And now a third ex-wife had gone missing. If they hadn’t caught on they were even stupider than he thought.
The little hearts he had carved into Selene and Claudia's chests had to have been the biggest giveaway of all. Why would two unrelated men perform the same ritualistic post-mortem disfiguration? The answer was simple; they wouldn’t.
For a long time after he’d killed Claudia, he kept expecting the police to come knocking on his door accusing him of murder. But they never had. Apparently, they believed that both were murder-suicides and that the carved hearts were anomalies.
Carving the hearts had been a risk, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. Both women had had little regard for the hearts of others, and cutting the hearts above their hearts had been both symbolic and therapeutic. And now he was ready for some more therapy.
As soon as he stepped up to the pool and caught sight of Emily all thoughts of Selene, Claudia, their respective men, and the cops flew from his mind.
He had her all to himself.
No one to interfere. No one to stop him. No one to come running to Emily’s rescue.
He intended to make the most of it.
Since this visit was during the day, he didn’t need to turn on the floodlights. For a moment he just stood and studied her. He wasn't sure that he would still classify Emily as beautiful. She was a mess, filthy skin and matted hair, lifeless eyes. Now she reminded him more of the animal that she behaved like.
Emily didn’t indicate that she was aware of his arrival, so he retrieved the hose, turned it on, and aimed it in her direction. She startled, let out a strangled squawk, but didn’t move. She was completely drenched by the time she cupped her hands together to catch some water, then brought them to her lips to drink. She was equally as groggy when he threw down a couple of pieces of bread, her movements slow and awkward as she stumbled to her feet and went to gather the food. Today she ate only one of the four pieces he’d given her, which concerned him a little. Was she fading already? He had thought he would get weeks of fun out of her, but he’d had her only three days, and already she was giving up. That was unacceptable. No one messed with his fun. Especially not his victims.
Swinging the rope ladder over the edge, he climbed quickly down. He had Emily so well trained that she got down on all fours as soon as she saw his feet touch the bottom of the pool. He was already rock hard, and her submission turned him on even more, had him bursting to be inside her. Or rather ready to burst once he was inside her, he chuckled at his own joke. He took her from behind, hard and fast, and found release almost immediately.
It was hard to find a woman who liked it as rough as he needed. And it had become a need. He couldn’t come anymore with the gentle and attentive lovemaking of his youth. Now he was unable to come if it wasn't violent and not a lot of women liked it that way. What good was a woman if she couldn’t bring satisfaction? That was why rape was becoming a more appealing option by the second. He could have her as brutally as he wanted and didn’t have to worry about giving the woman the ride of her life first so she was willing to let him take what he needed.
He was just zipping back up when Emily suddenly flung herself at him. Arms flailing, nails scratching, legs kicking, mouth biting, screaming at the top of her lungs like a banshee.
Caught by surprise, the force of her body, small and weak as it was, connecting with his, sent him stumbling backward. He lost his footing and fell hard, pain shooting up his spine as he landed right on his tailbone.
Taking advantage of his momentary distraction she jumped at the rope ladder. Scampering up it, she was about halfway when he finally managed to contain the pain enough to get back on his feet. He made it to the ladder in two lumbering steps, wrapped an arm around Emily’s waist, and tossed her to the ground. She landed with a thud and didn’t move.
He stared at her. Still half in shock about what had just happened. Had she really just attacked him and almost escaped? Maybe that stuck in a fog, dissociative thing she’d had going on was just an act to lull him into a false sense of security. She was obviously a lot stronger than she looked. She was so thin, basically emaciated, and yet she’d been able to knock him down. She was stronger than she appeared psychologically too. Maybe he really was going to get his fun with her after all.
Throwing his head back, he laughed so hard his stomach ached and tears streamed down his face.
* * * * *
5:44 P.M.
“Sorry I'm late,” Nick said as Aggie opened her front door.
“No problem.” She beamed up at him, her beautiful blue eyes practically glowing. She was wearing a blue and white dress that complimented her eyes, and her long blonde hair was twisted up in some fancy do.
“I got held up at work.” He felt the need to offer further explanation.
“Someone got tax problems?” Aggie’s face was so fresh, so innocent. He wasn't used to spending time around people like her.
“Something like that.” His desire to solve this case no matter the cost was severely wavering. But he’d come this far. He was here, her father was here. He may as well follow through, see what he learned tonight, and then tomorrow he was going to talk to Miller, see if they could figure out a way to tell Aggie the truth but still get close to her father. She said she loved him, maybe she’d be able to forgive him once she calmed down and realized that he did all of this to save lives, and that he’d never meant to hurt her, never intended to fall for her.
