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“Thanks. I’ll talk to him.” Deakin stands up, but she grabs his hand before he goes. He turns. “Really, Noah. Thank you.”
He smiles and leaves, and she follows him out into the office, going across to Griffin. Up close he seems even worse. There is a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his face is almost yellow.
“Nate, are you okay?” she asks, and he looks up suddenly.
He hesitates. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re ill. Go home if you need to.”
He runs his hand across his forehead. She notices he’s shivering. “Yes, I think I will,” he says quietly.
“Do you want me to drive you?”
He shakes his head quickly. “No, no. They need you here.”
She watches as he stands, picks up his bag, and leaves. He’s walking slowly, as if putting one foot in front of the other needs all his concentration. She thinks about following him, forcing someone to take him, but she knows he’ll hate the intrusion. Just the fact he’s agreed to leave of his own accord is enough.
She stands outside her office, at the edge of the incident room. Watching the team, all hard at work. The detectives behind the rows of computers, still examining CCTV. The analysts scrolling through data. The inquiry officers, following up on every tip from the public, however unlikely, however crazy.
Cara thinks about what the digital lab found. About the Tinder account.
She watches them all. And again, she thinks, Is it you?
Is it you?
CHAPTER
61
NOW THIS IS a nice house. He looks up at the row of windows, the bright red front door, then walks the last few feet up the gravel driveway. Her car is here, and he knows she’s alone.
He’s been watching her. And she’s just right. This is it. He’s ready. He takes a deep breath and rings the bell. The door opens.
The first blow with his fist sends her backward, blood spouting from her nose. The second on the mouth, knocks her to the floor, arms windmilling. He hears her jaw crack, he sees her eyes widen in pain. He walks into the hallway after her, and she pushes frantically away, her hands struggling to get purchase, her shoes squeaking on the tiled surface. He leans down and hits her again—knuckles breaking her eye socket, a second on the side of her head.
She looks dazed. He hears her try to say something through her mangled lips, blood and dribble running down her chin. He stands over her, savoring the moment. He knows what he’s going to do.
He grabs her by the top of her arm, pulling her up and ripping her shirt open. Buttons ping off and bounce on the floor; stitches rip as he wrenches it clear of her body. Her bra is pink and lacy and delicate—he grabs it by the front and uses it to drag her further into the house, offering him little resistance as he tears it off forcefully, searing her skin.
The woman’s still struggling. She has fight in her. He likes that. He places a few well-aimed kicks in her stomach, feels a crack as ribs break, and she doubles over, then vomits violently. He rolls her over onto her front, facedown, then reaches into his pocket and takes out a length of cord. He wraps it around her neck, crossing it over, then pulling, his knee on the middle of her back. She gurgles, he sees her eyes roll back in her head. But he lets go. Not too hard, he thinks. Not yet.
Skirt next, then tights. Matching underwear, nice. This bitch knows how to take care of herself. They tear into shreds as he drags them down her legs. He smells sweat and urine. Shoes have gone already in the struggle, lying on their side in a puddle of blood.
He can feel his heart beating faster. He’s hard with anticipation. He stands over her prostrate naked body, fingering himself lightly through his jeans. He looks at her bare skin, bruises starting to show, at her juicy cunt, the tight ass he knows is waiting for him.
She’s just looking over her shoulder, the last vestiges of consciousness still flickering.
He looks back at the open front door, to the empty street beyond. He pushes the door with his foot, and as he does so, he sees the hope ebb away from her eyes.
It closes with a click. He doesn’t want to be disturbed. He wants to make this one last, remember every detail.
Because this is it.
The beginning of the end.
CHAPTER
62
