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“Hey, Boy! Hey, Boy!”
Mocking and cruel, the words resounded in his head, feeling so real that for a moment, he looked around him in fear.
But there was nobody nearby on the street, which was quiet in the gloomy late afternoon. The words had existed only in his mind. Thankfully, he was hearing them less and less. Boy felt sure it was thanks to his own actions. With every kill he successfully carried out, he was killing the voices, too.
Putting that taunting voice out of his mind, he focused on what was important as he walked the last few steps to his lookout point. Now, he was in place and ready. This was his new lookout point. He'd made adjustments to his plans, and the need to do that had been surprising to him.
He'd found a lookout point a few days ago that he had thought he was going to be able to use. But quickly, he realized that it would not be enough. It was too far away from the home that was his next target.
It was odd, because he had measured it carefully and he had realized it was exactly the same distance as the first point was. His mind cast back to that first woman, the very first one he’d targeted. Oh, what excitement that had been. What enormous satisfaction he’d felt as he had created a nightmare world for her.
Well, it was the same as the world he’d had to endure. He vividly remembered how his father had tortured him. How he’d turned the lights out, suddenly and without warning, while Boy had been in bed at night, so that he’d had to fumble around in the dark, his mind swarming with fears and terrors that hidden monsters were waiting to grab him. He’d locked the door to his bedroom randomly so that Boy had never been quite sure if he would be able to get out – or if he would be able to get in.
The fear, the uncertainty, the sense of disorientation – they all flared in his mind again and he pushed them firmly back. They were in the past now. And he was moving into the future, This was his time, now. His time to use, his time to create a new narrative for his life. This time, he would be in control.
And he wanted to be more involved, to become an intimate part of the scene. So he’d chosen a new lookout place. One that was riskier, with more chance of being noticed, but it gave him a magnificent view into the open plan area of his next target’s living room. Being open plan, there was a kitchen beyond that was also clearly in sight.
There were blinds, of course, but they were installed high on the wall, and they were electrically operated.
It was very unfortunate that when she arrived home tonight, the blinds would be open, and when she tried to close them, she would not be able to. He’d see the fear in her face as she struggled with them.
Ultimately, she might succeed, or she might give up in despair. It didn't matter because she would only have a few more minutes of life.
But that scene, that intimate scene, watching her struggle – warmth filled him as he thought about it. It was going to be so special. If he hadn’t been scared of giving away his hiding place, he would have wriggled in sheer anticipation.
However, caution came first, and he kept statue still in his hiding place in her backyard which offered him a street view down the side of the house, as well as a view to the park beyond where he would make his escape. The cold was not unbearable – he had on a thick jacket and gloves, of course – and the anticipation kept him warm.
He watched as the neighbor arrived home. That was a potential complication as these houses were close together, and there was a chance that somebody observant might hear or see something.
In fact, there had been a couple of places – a couple of targets – that he'd reluctantly crossed off his list for exactly that reason. He'd wondered if this would be the case here, but he had closely monitored the circumstances and decided it was safe.
Today, his decision was only confirmed. The neighbor, as always, looked preoccupied and was tending to her small child. He didn’t know how old the kid was. But it was noisy. A screaming, shouting, crying little boy who already, in the short distance from the car to the front door, tugged her in three different directions, loudly demanded something that he couldn’t make out, burst into tears, and then tried to break away completely.
“What a little monster,” he muttered to himself. He knew what his own father would have done when faced with such behavior. That behavior would not have persisted for long, no, it would have been nipped in the bud very soon. An expression he’d almost forgotten: nipped in the bud. That was what his father used to say, with that manic smile in place, as he was about to address one of Boy’s faults or inadequacies.
And that bud had been effective. Behavior nipped in the steel claws of his father’s punishment had never reemerged. Boy had learned discipline. The hard way, which was the best way, although it had left him with scars. But of course, it was clear that this woman was raising her child alone. She had nobody to help her, and was as ineffectual as his own mother had been.
If her home had met the necessary specifications, he'd have delighted in killing this neighbor, too, but it didn’t, so it wasn’t on his list. He was simply glad that she wouldn’t be a problem.
A cold smile wreathed his face as he watched the stressed single mother try to keep track of her rogue boy. This was exactly what he needed. She would be exhausted, overwhelmed, and focused on her own little world. The perfect neighbor for his needs. No way did he foresee a problem.
He would have his target alone, and she would be his, for his exclusive attention. And how he looked forward to giving her every moment of that inexorable focus. Checking his watch, he felt his anticipation sharpen.
The woman who occupied this chosen house would be home in just half an hour.
And then, it would be show time.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It had taken them half an hour to drive from the muddy, wintry, rural setting where Victor had lived, to the apartment where Debbie Maynard had lived. Cami felt impatient as Connor drove. With her idea firmly in mind, she wanted to prove it right. If she did, she was sure it would open up a new direction in this case.
The drive hadn’t taken place in silence – they’d spoken about the case, about the traffic and the weather. Connor had made sure to ask how Cami was doing living with Kieran, and in turn she’d asked the polite formalities about his life and family that they hadn’t yet had time for. That had all been as expected, but then, something very disturbing happened.
“The cats are well. They’re enjoying the winter sunshine on the new catio we invested in. They go out there every day and lie next to the plants. It’s a matter of time before they destroy them,” Connor said with a grin.
Cami laughed, feeling as entertained as she always did by the antics of the felines.
But then, Connor’s phone rang. Feeling slightly triggered by anything unexpected at the moment and especially so after that last strange phone call he hadn’t taken in front of her, Cami tensed, her gaze going immediately to the screen on the car’s console where she could see the incoming caller ID.
