SATURDAY NOON
Draven liked the money but he didn’t like the cleanup. In fact, sometimes he wondered if it was even worth it. Like right now, for example, as he drove up to the cabin.
This was the sick part.
He never knew what to expect.
All he could hope for is that things hadn’t gotten too bloody.
He arrived at the cabin shortly before noon, saw that the car that had been there yesterday was now gone, and pulled in front of the structure as the tires kicked up a cloud of dust. The radio played “Heart of Stone,” which he hadn’t heard in years. He left the engine running until it ended, watching a bluebird bounce up and down on the branch of a lodgepole pine.
He took a swig of Jack and stepped out.
The sky above him was just about perfect-blue, sunny, warm and inviting. A thick pine fragrance filled the air. He stood still and listened.
No sounds came from anywhere.
Not from inside the house.
Not from the gravel road behind him.
Not from anywhere.
Good.
He walked to the front door, found it locked as it should be, and used his key to get in. He located the body in the bedroom, posed in a spread-eagle position on the bed, covered by a white sheet. He checked the DVD recorder and confirmed that the client had removed his souvenir copy of the snuff.
He couldn’t see any blood on the sheet and pulled it off.
The woman’s eyes were closed.
He saw no visible evidence of trauma or blood.
Excellent.
This would be a piece of cake.
He felt for her pulse and found none.
Her body was still warm.
She couldn’t have been dead more than an hour or two.
He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand up and down her body, tracing her tattoos. She didn’t move. He felt his cock swell and pushed it down but the pressure only made it stand up more. Maybe the woman needed one final act of love to send her off. He checked his wallet to see if he had a condom.
He did.
So he put it on and mounted her.
She was tight.
He took his time.
Working up to the verge of a climax and then backing off.
Two times.
Then three.
Then four.
Finally he couldn’t stand it any more and thrust like a rock star.
“Yeah baby!”
“How’s that feel?”
“Good, huh?”
“You like it.”
“You like it.”
“You like it.”
Then he exploded in her.
Drenched in sweat and exhausted, he collapsed on her and didn’t move. Staying inside her. Then he closed his eyes just to rest them for a second.
At some point later, he felt movement.
Very minor.
Barely perceptible.
When he opened his eyes, the woman was staring at him.
34
DAY SIX-SEPTEMBER 10
SATURDAY
In Davica’s spare bedroom, Teffinger twisted and tossed in bed half the night, going back and forth on whether he should buy the Corvette. The seller liked him and offered a good deal last night, a steal-of-a-deal in fact; but stressed he could only hold it until noon today. Lots of other people were calling and wanting to see it. The car was everything Kwak described, namely a primo representative of classic American muscle. But, even at a good price, it was still a pretty penny. To get it in his garage would take every bit of his savings plus a small loan.
But it was so damn beautiful.
Not to mention a sound investment.
It would never go south in value.
He already pictured himself driving it on Sunday afternoons with the top down and the Beach Boys blasting.
“Just get it,” he told himself.
Too excited to sleep any longer, he crawled out of bed, peeked in on a still-sleeping Davica, and then took a jog, thinking it over one last time before he committed. When he got back to the house, he called the seller and left a message that he’d take the car and would be over before noon with the money.
There.
Done.
He hit the shower and got his mind back on the case. The four murders were connected. If he could crack one, then the others would follow. But which one was the weakest link?
Probably Rachel Ringer.
That killer was the most extreme and would probably stand out the most. Plus the law firm was eager to help. She was also the one who cried out the most for justice. No one should have their head cut off, especially while they were alive.
He toweled off and found Davica in the kitchen, firing up the coffee and wearing a short pink nightie. Every time he saw her, he was shocked at how beautiful she was.
“Morning, wet-head,” she said. “So did you decide to get it, or what?”
He nodded.
“Yep-guilty of stupidity.”
“I knew you would.”
He smiled.
“Even I didn’t know I would until thirty minutes ago.”
“I knew last night,” she said.
“Meaning what? That you know me…”
“… better than you know yourself?”
He shook his head.
Beaten.
They picked the car up shortly before noon. Teffinger gave the seller two checks and told him not to cash the
