I grinned and pulled at the rope in my hands. I’d stolen it from Wengrow’s small shed in the backyard. If I wanted my plan to work, I was going to need as many tools as I could get, especially ones that belonged to the man himself. It meant there was less to lead the cops back to me, not that I expected them to ever come looking. My work was flawless. A masterpiece. They would never suspect me.
I was careful as I walked down the hallway. I’d taken my shoes off at the front door, leaving me in only socks. I wanted to avoid leaving a unique shoe print, since mine were falling apart. Then, if they ever did suspect me—pfft—they would take my sneakers and realize I had the exact pair they wanted.
No, socked feet were much better.
I touched my gloved hand to the bedroom door, and it wasn’t latched, so it swung open with barely a sound. Inside, Wengrow was still on his bed on his back, arms and legs spread-eagle, and I made a noise of disgust, like the one Tyler had made yesterday.
I padded toward the bed, careful to stay quiet, and touched his wrist gently. He barely moved, his snores deep and loud. I doubted much could wake him up in this state, but I still didn’t want him conscious. If he did crack his eyes open, there would be hell to pay. He was bigger than me, and stronger, too. I would have to take it slow.
First, I tied his wrists to the bedposts. It wasn’t hard, and I’d learned a lot of useful skills while hitchhiking my way across America with truckers. Knot tying was one. I took my time, making sure the ropes were secure before I did the same to his ankles, and not once did he twitch. The man had drunk himself into a coma that I wasn’t sure I could get him out of, but I wanted him to be awake for the next part. I needed to see his reactions as the life drained out of his eyes. He deserved to be in pain.
I yanked the last knot hard, and Wengrow grunted but kept on snoring. “Pig,” I whispered as I moved past the bed and back into the hallway, then went to his linen closet and grabbed a towel. Jules had told me to kill differently, and as heavy as my knife felt in the pocket of my jeans, I refused to get it out. I’d do what Jules told me because Ineededto feel his lips on mine.
Next, I picked my way through the trash on the floor to the kitchen and got out a large jug I filled with water. I’d never killed in a way that didn’t involve my knife. My parents had died with slit throats, tied up to the wooden chairs that belonged to our dining table. The cops in Pleasant Beach claimed it was a robbery gone wrong after I’d taken my parents’ finest jewelry and sold it. Idiots.
I went back into the bedroom with the jug of water and towel, then placed them on the small nightstand near Wengrow’s right hand. For a moment, I stared, curious if he would realize someone was watching him, but he barely moved, nothing more than a slob who abused alcohol. I snorted. No wonder Jules wanted him gone. He was a waste of air and space.
I smirked and leaned over the bed, slapping him across the face. His eyes shot open and he let out a shout, but I slammed my gloved hand over his mouth, making the sounds muffled. He stared at me, eyes wide and confused, and I grinned down at him.
“Finally. I was beginning to think you’d never wake up.”
He said something, and I released my hold on his mouth so I could hear him. “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is none of your business. What interests me isyou.” I tapped him on the cheek, and he flung his head to the side, yanking at the ropes that held his wrists and ankles tightly to the bedposts. “You are Jeffrey Arlan Wengrow, and you live here at 13 Millgrove Road. You have a dirty habit of drinking too much beer—” I paused to scrunch my nose at the cans strewn across the nightstand, telling me which hand was his dominant. “—and running over little girls for your cousin.”
He froze like a deer in headlights, watery green eyes wide and mouth parted. Finally, he struggled harder against his restraints. It was too bad for him I’d learned how to tie knots well.
“Get the fuck out of my house.”
I laughed and straightened, crossing my arms. Excitement made my belly warm and my fingertips tingle. I loved this part. They acted tough, but they were anything but that. They were terrified, ready to piss themselves. My parents had looked the same way, but unlike with Wengrow, I gave my mother and father a chance. All they’d had to do was give back the money they stole, but till the moment of their death they never thought I was capable of hurting them and refused to give me what I wanted. It was the worst mistake of their lives.
“I would lie and say I like it here, but even the most talented bullshit artist wouldn’t be able to get away with that kind of fib, would they?” I glanced around the messy room, clothes scattered across the carpet along with a few empty takeout boxes. “How can you live in this pigsty?”
He spat toward me and a glob of saliva landed on his white, sweat-drenched shirt. “You little fuck. Let me go or I’ll rip you apart, boy.”
I leaned in closer and my grin widened. “You like killing those who are weaker than you, don’t you, Jeffrey? But here’s the thing, I’m not. I am your grim reaper, the one who will finally give you the justice you deserve.” I grabbed the towel and danced it in front of his face. “Remember this name—Officer Jules Rogers. He says hello... and goodbye.”
I laid the towel over his face, and he swore at me, calling me all the names he could think of in that tiny brain of his. I could’ve come up with better alternatives for name-calling, but I didn’t have the time or inclination. This needed to be done fast, but precise, with enough finesse to have Jules impressed by my work. I’d imagined his expression since I’d seen him last, and it had taken all my effort not to track him down and watch him again. The sooner I got this done, the sooner I could get my reward.
“I’ve never tried this,” I said honestly, grabbing the jug of water. “I’ve heard it’s good for torture, but it kills a person, too. Eventually. There’s a lot of pain first. You drown.”
“What?” He shook his head and the motion dislodged the towel slightly. I didn’t think about him moving. Fuck.
I stared at him carefully. How could I stop him? It would’ve been easier with help. I sighed in frustration and placed the jug on the floor. “How am I going to do this? I wish you’d keep still.”
“Fuck you,” Wengrow snapped, finally managing to remove the towel from his face completely with another shake of his head. He glared at me now that I was in his sight again. “What the fuck do you want? Money? I’ve got ten grand right now if you untie me and walk away.”
I laughed. “Money isboring, Jeffrey. I’ve lived my entire life with money and it has never entertained me.” I shook a gloved finger at him. “But if you did offer me cash, ten grand is a little soft, don’t you think?”
“Forty!” Wengrow shouted.
I pretended to yawn and patted my mouth. “This is all very contrived. You do know what that word means, don’t you? Mother always said I talked beyond my years, although she thought it would help her and Dad in their business. I came across as smart, she said.” I snorted. “Until she decided I was tooweirdto be anywhere near Dad’s clients.” I shook my head and shushed him. “I need to think how to make this work and your talking is distracting me.”
“Fifty, that’s my last offer,” he snarled out, struggling against his restraints. “Cash. All you need to do is untie me and walk away. That’s fucking it. I won’t go to the cops. Nothing.”
I grunted out another laugh. “Be honest with me, how much did your cousin pay you to run over his stepdaughter?” I leaned in closer to him. “How much was a little girl who couldn’t defend herself worth to you? Tell me.”
He froze and stared, and the desperation in his eyes grew more intense. There was nothing he could do, though, other than shout for help. I didn’t think Wengrow was that type of guy. Even if he did, I doubted anyone would come. He probably made too much noise in his drunk rampages already and his neighbors had learned to ignore it. While I was still trying to understandnormalhuman behavior, that was one thing I did know about other people. They were quick to disregard things that took too much effort.
