He prayed he was right.Grace’s life depended on it.
Chapter22
George grumbled as he strode back up the driveway toward the detached garage.He’d been gone way longer than planned.
Fucking, whiny bitch.
First, it was the fucking lightbulb.Next came a dripping faucet.Then she’d asked him to put her Easter decorations up in the attic.He’d beenthisfuckingcloseto shoving her up there with all the dusty boxes and locking the trap door shut.
Finally, he’d offered to take her garbage to the curb on his way out, and she jumped at the chance not to have to bring it there herself.One of these days…
Oh, well.There were plenty of other things he could do this evening to rid Mrs.Pain-in-the-ass Pennington from his mind, and they all involved the slut currently waiting for him.
He entered the garage and engaged the door’s deadbolt.As he took the stairs two at a time, he sorted through his keys for the one to the next lock.When he opened the door, the bitch started screaming, “Help!Somebody!Help!”
Quickly slamming the door and locking it, he stormed over to her and slapped her across the face.“Shut up, slut!”
“Who—who are you?Why are you doing this?”
“I’m your worst fucking nightmare,” he snarled.“And your last.”
The fear on her face was making him hard, but there were things he had to take care of first.Stepping over to a cabinet, he found the jar of pennies right where it should be.Each one was dated 1993—the year he’d killed his worthless excuse for a mother and turned his life around for the better.
It had been fate when his next kill had propositioned him years later.Before he’d left the prostitute’s dead body in the dirty motel room she’d brought him to, a lone penny on the floor had caught his eye.When he picked it up and saw the year on it was 1993, he knew it was a sign that this was his calling in life, and he placed it on her forehead.He’d been collecting them ever since, choosing the shiniest ones for his masterpieces.
“Please tell me why you’re doing this.If you’re going… going to k-kill me, I have a right to understand why.”
Her voice was trembling but soft.She hadn’t shouted but had spoken as if she were speaking to a small child.Pivoting slowly, George stared at the slut.She was still scared but wanted to know—wanted to understand.None of the sluts before her had ever said that to him.Oh, they’d screamed, “Why are you doing this?”but never that they wanted to understand.
He’d known she would be different than the others—she wasn’t a party girl.But she was still a slut.Maybe this one time, he would let his victim know why he was going to kill her and turn her into his next masterpiece.
Sean remembered his tactical training and parked a house away from the suspect’s home.Lynch and a marked deputy’s car pulled up behind him.The occupants poured out of the vehicles and met beside the Mustang just as Sean’s cell phone rang.Glancing at the screen, he saw it was Matt Griffin and answered it.“What?”
“Judge Sellers says you have reasonable cause to search for Grace and nothing else.Don’t open anything or look anywhere she can’t be hidden.For everything else, you have to wait for an official search warrant, or it’s inadmissible.Got it?”
Sean nodded even though the other man couldn’t see him.“Yeah, got it.”
“I’m about five minutes out, but don’t wait for me.”
Disconnecting the call, he addressed the others.“Grace only.Everything else has to wait.”He pointed at the two uniformed deputies.“Go around back, and don’t let him know you’re there.Check if anything is unlocked or if you can see in the windows, but don’t enter without my okay.”
The two men started up the neighbor’s drive and would cut through the backyard.
“Want to play dumb and ring the doorbell or go in like gangbusters?”Rafe asked.
Sean was about to respond when a little voice sounded from behind him.“Excuse me.”
Spinning around, he found a little old lady peering up at him with wide eyes.“Yes, ma’am?”
“I live over there.”She pointed at the house directly across from Wallace’s.“Is everything all right?”
This could work to their advantage.“Ma’am, I’m Special Agent Sean Malone from the FBI.Do you know your neighbor across the street, Mr.George Wallace?”
“Of course.Such a nice man.He was just visiting with me.He’s always coming over to help me with the chores this old body can’t do anymore.”It was clear she thought the man was a saint.Her gaze bounced from lawman to lawman before going back to Sean.“Why do you ask?”
Sean ignored her question, fighting the urge to storm Wallace’s house and rescue Grace.They needed all the intelligence they could get to ensure the bastard didn’t escalate and kill her swiftly.The man liked to toy with his victims, and if he’d been over at this woman’s house, that meant he’d had very little time with Grace so far.
“You say he was just over at your house?When did he get there, and how long ago did he leave?”
