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The guards had started the videotape and agreed to wait outside. They could watch what transpired on the monitor in the hallway.
Otis must have been using the prison's fitness room, for he'd put on some muscle. His jumpsuit was clean, his hair combed; his face shaved. In his narcissistic way, he'd always considered himself exceptionally handsome.
Olivia had always found his features too mellow. No doubt it was his soft look that had encouraged his victims to trust him. Brown hair, brown eyes, average height, good bone structure. But there was nothing striking about him. Nothing overtly masculine and memorable.
He made up for that with his personality.
He smiled as she entered the divided room, and she could sense he was genuinely happy to see her.
"Come in, Olivia. Sit down." He sprawled in the metal chair. "I've been expecting you."
Predictable. He'd started off with commands in an attempt to establish dominance.
"I'll make this short." She strode inside and stopped beside the metal chair in her half of the room. "I have a few questions - "
"And I have all the answers," he interrupted her with a smirk.
"I expect your full cooperation."
"Really?" He rubbed a hand up and down his thigh. "What can you give me to make it worthwhile?"
"I can make sure you stay alive."
He grinned. "Oh, a threat. I like it. Strong women are so much more fun. They fight back and struggle till their last breath. Makes the final victory much more satisfying." He held up a hand. "Don't worry, darling. I would never hurt you. We're destined to be together."
She could point out that he was serving three consecutive life terms, but he never seemed to grasp that concept. "Since you're so fond of me, I expect you to answer my questions honestly."
"And I expect something in exchange. A token of your affection for me." He lowered his hand to his crotch. "I want an eight-by-ten glossy of you so I can masturbate to it."
"You're wasting my time." She strode back to the door.
"Wait." He jumped up and followed her on his side of the glass. "Don't go, Olivia. It's been so long since I've seen you."
She paused at the door, sensing his desperation. His emotional attachment to her always made her queasy in the stomach. "Are you ready to answer my questions?"
He smiled slowly. "You've learned to play the game well. I'm a good teacher, don't you think?"
He was such a narcissist. Even when she took control, he took credit for it. She sauntered back to the center of the room to force him to follow her.
He did. "Did you enjoy your vacation on Patmos?"
"I'm asking the questions." She rested her hands on the back of her metal chair. "Who is your accomplice? Who's sending the apples?"
He lounged in the chair. "Don't you enjoy the apples? You had so much fun peeling them for me. You could make it all around the apple in one long spiral." He rotated a finger in the air. "I had to go through several women before I mastered that technique."
She was careful not to show any emotion, but she could tell he was aroused. "Who is your accomplice?"
He smiled. "'Quid pro quo, Clarice.'"
"This isn't a movie."
"It should be." He stood and walked toward the glass. "Who do think should play me? Brad Pitt, maybe?"
"Who is your accomplice?"
He pressed his hands against the glass. "Nobody. She means nothing to me. She's just a way to keep up with you. You're the one I love."
"Who is she?"
He stepped back from the glass. "I answered. Now quid pro quo. My turn to ask a question."
His gaze wandered over her and lingered on her linen pants. "The first time you came to see me, you were wearing a tight black skirt, and your legs were bare. You would sit on that chair and cross your legs, and I thought I'd gone to heaven. I would have told you anything to keep you coming here in those tight-assed little skirts."
The queasy feeling in her stomach grew. She'd sensed from the beginning that he lusted for her, and she'd used it to lure him into a trusting relationship. When he'd offered to tell her everything if she'd simply peel an apple for him, she'd gone along with it. And he had confessed to torturing and killing ten more women.
Otis planted his hands on the glass wall and leaned toward her. "It nearly killed me when you stopped wearing skirts. You know how much I love your legs."
She'd started wearing pants when he'd told her what he liked to do to his victims' legs.
"When you peeled that apple for me," he continued, "I knew you were the one. No one understands me like you do. You can tell when I'm lying or being naughty, but you keep coming back to see me. Admit it, Olivia. You find me fascinating. When you f**k other men, you're thinking about me."
She swallowed hard at the bile in her throat. "You didn't ask a question."
He chuckled. "Fine. Tell me, did you peel the apples I sent you? Did you slide the knife just under the skin and hear that little pop when the blade breaks through? Did you skim the knife around and - "
"No. I threw the apples away." She stepped toward the glass. "My turn. The name of your accomplice."
"I'm afraid you'll have to rephrase that in question form."
"Who is your accomplice?"
He shrugged. "Darling, you already know. Now if you would just admit that we belong together, I wouldn't have to take advantage of the poor, stupid sluts who want to help me in my time of need."
"The game's over, Otis. You won't be manipulating anyone. I'm getting the D.A. in Texas to prosecute you for the murder you committed there."
"You do that, darling. I would enjoy a trip to Texas. I can use the opportunity to escape so we can be together."
"You'll be convicted there, and I will come to see you."
He grinned. "That's my girl."
"I'll be a witness when they give you the needle."
His smile faded.
"Death penalty, Otis. How do you like them apples?"
His face hardened with a cold stare. "While you stand here making idle threats, my accomplices are getting away."
"We'll get them." She strode toward the door. As usual, she felt like going straight to a shower.
"Olivia!" Otis called to her.
When she glanced back, he pulled something from the chest pocket of his uniform. It was red and lacy. Her missing panties.
He rubbed them against his cheek. "Till we meet again, darling."
Her stomach twinged, and she quickly left the room. She rushed back to the front office.
J.L. was behind the counter with the guard. "We've got her, Olivia." He turned the monitor so she could see.
The woman appeared to be about the same height and weight as Olivia. She was wearing dark sunglasses, and her dark hair was covered with a baseball cap. Joe was the guard. She showed him an ID and signed in.
Yasmine. Olivia's heart sank. She'd hoped it wasn't her, but it had just made too much sense. "She made a copy of my ID."
J.L. nodded. "And she knows where you stash your handbag. She probably made a wax imprint of your house key. It would only take a few seconds."
Olivia pressed a hand to her stomach. It was bad enough to deal with Otis, but to discover that Yasmine had betrayed their friendship - it made her feel physically ill. "Did you call Barker?"
"Yes. They've put an APB out on her."
"She wasn't in the office?" Olivia asked, then realized what had happened. "Joe must have warned her."
"Looks like it. He's disappeared, too." J.L. skirted the edge of the counter. "How did your meeting with Otis go?"
"He wouldn't divulge her name, but he admitted to using her." Olivia made a face. "How could Yasmine do this? Doesn't she know what a monster he is?"
"You never felt any sort of deception from her?" J.L. asked.
"No! She never lied. She was always nosy, but as far as I could tell, her friendship was real."
"She knew about your gift, so I guess she was always careful around you."
Olivia groaned. How could she not have known? Detecting deception was supposed to be her specialty.
J.L. escorted her toward the door. He glanced back at the guard. "You can expect some special agents here this afternoon to interview all the guards. Meanwhile, if you hear anything about Joe, call the number on the card I gave you."
