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Tossing on some clothes, he headed for the secret room.
Even if by some weird coincidence the FBI managed to latch on to him as a suspect, and he couldn’t really see that happening, they had no reason to even be thinking about him. But in case they did, they could search this house from top to bottom and still never find the room.
As he unlocked the door, he did his best to contain his glee. Yes, he was excited, but if he got overexcited, then there was a possibility that he could make a mistake. Asmallpossibility, but there was still a chance it could happen.
It had happened before.
With Taylor.
He hadn’t thought the girl had it in her to try to escape.
Still, that had taught him a valuable lesson, and he would never be that careless again.
The chances of that scenario repeating itself were slim. Since he now had three girls, he had to do things a little differently. And that meant making sure that they were secured. No longer could he let them wander around the room. Especially in this early stage while they were uninjured. Maybe once the FBI agent had a few broken bones, he might rethink that, but for now, each girl would remain restrained.
“Wakey, wakey, girlie girls,” he sang as he opened the door.
Three sets of eyes—scared eyes—turned to look at him.
“Pete Larkin.” Chloe looked at him in thinly-veiled surprise.
She knew him?
How?
He was sure he didn't know her.
Wait, maybe she was friends with the other agent who had been with her at the house? That could make sense because he remembered that other agent from a few years ago. She had been a patient at the rehab facility where he worked, so if they were friends, then it was possible that Chloe had met him then.
But if that were true, then why would she remember him?
He tried not to make too much of an impression on any of the people he met there—he wanted to be able to study the various injuries without anyone noticing. He spent hours poring over x-rays and doctor’s reports, learning everything he could.
His gaze narrowed as he zeroed in on her. “How do you know me?”
“Your reputation of being overly interested in patients with broken bones put you on our radar, but …” She trailed off, seemingly rethinking divulging whatever information she had been about to let loose.
So, the FBI was on to him.
That certainly changed things.
He should have killed the other agent. He hadn’t because he didn't want to. He didn't like killing broken things. It was so much more fun to break perfect things. But that had been a mistake; there was a chance she might be able to identify him. If she remembered him from the facility, then she could tell them who he was.
Maybe he shouldn’t do this tonight.
If he had to pack up and move, then having to take three injured girls with him would complicate things. He had other properties he could go to, but he’d have to wait until they were fitted out with a special room. In the meantime, he didn't really have another choice but to remain here and hope for the best.
So, if he had to remain here anyway, he may as well have some fun first.
“You were in an accident when you were just a baby, only two years old,” Chloe was saying. “Is that when you got interested in broken bones?”
“I don’t remember the accident. I was too young,” he answered honestly. Although, despite the fact he didn't remember that time in his life, he assumed it was safe to say that yes, that was when his obsession had begun.
“You were in the hospital for over a year. That’s a long time for anyone—especially such a little boy,” she continued.
Pete knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to gather information that she could use against him.
But what could she do with anything he told her?
