One Last Scream

minutes? I’m so worn out and frazzled and tired. I really don’t want to talk about this now. I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

“No, it’s-it’s fine,” Karen said. She nodded at the bowl in front of Amelia. Most of the ice cream had melted. “You sure you don’t want any of that?”

Amelia just shook her head.

Getting to her feet, Karen collected both bowls and took them to the sink. She rinsed them out, and watched the chocolate sauce swirl down the drain.

“I just want to go to sleep and not think about anything for a while,” Amelia said. “This is one of those nights when I used to drink until I’d passed out so I didn’t have to worry or think about anything. Karen, you don’t have any sleeping pills, do you?”

Karen switched off the water. She turned, and gave Amelia a patient, understanding smile. “You know, I think I might.”

Ina McMillan was the name on the address label on the old Vanity Fair he’d fished out of the recycling bin in front of the house. That was the aunt, the one she’d shot in the chest. Aunt Ina.

He’d been to the house in Bellingham twice, and to their weekend retreat on Lake Wenatchee several times. But Blade hadn’t been to this place in West Seattle until tonight. It was a Craftsman-style house at the end of a cul-de-sac. He’d parked the Cadillac a little further up the block. Through the open curtains in the living room, he could see all the way back to the kitchen. Now that he knew whose place it was, he could attach a name to the tall guy he’d seen going in and out of the kitchen. That was Uncle George. And the two brats were her cousins.

She hadn’t told him whose place it was. She’d just given him the address, and told him to go check it out. He was supposed to give the place the once-over, because he had to do a job for her there tomorrow. Blade figured it would be a robbery, but he never knew with her.

She hadn’t told him exactly what kind of job yet. She would call him on his cell at eleven o’clock, and then let him know. She was kind of a tease that way. She made a game of everything. He liked that about her, but it could also drive him nuts at times. Sex with her was always a game, and it was fantastic. Blade always felt the crazier a woman was, the better the sex. And this one was crazy.

He’d checked the windows around the McMillan house. They were about seven feet above ground level, but he could use one of the trash cans or recycling bins to boost himself up and break in. Besides the front door, there was another door off the kitchen in back. In the bushes by the front stoop, there was a little sign for some home security service-no surprise. But he knew how to dismantle those stupid security alarms.

He glanced at his wristwatch: 10:50. Even though the cul-de-sac wasn’t well lit, Blade put his sunglasses back on. She said they made him look cool. She also liked the shiny black suit he wore practically everywhere. He sometimes enjoyed posing in front of the mirror wearing his sunglasses and his trademark black suit, brandishing his guns. She took a bunch of pictures of him posing like that.

Tucking the Vanity Fair under his arm, Blade strolled back to his car. He sat in the front seat. He could still see the McMillan house from here, but his eyes grew tired and he closed them for a spell.

Funny about that corpse in the woods. He was supposed to have buried the guy last night. She’d even left trail markers for him. But after driving to the park, he just didn’t fucking feel like doing all that work. Plus those woods were full of wild animals.

So this morning, she was all over his ass for slacking off. And so he drove back to the park late this afternoon. He’d brought along a small shovel she’d gotten at some army-navy surplus store. He hadn’t exactly been looking forward to burying a decayed stiff. But the notion of possibly encountering-and shooting-some forest creatures suddenly intrigued him.

Well, he didn’t find any forest creatures, but the stiff sure did. What was left of the guy was covered with crows when he’d found him. Blade puked twice as he dragged the stinking, picked-over corpse to a ditch off the marked trail. He didn’t have to dig much to make the shallow oblong hole. With the shovel, he quickly covered him with a layer of dirt, then scattered some leaves and branches over that.

He was headed back to the car when he’s spotted Amelia’s shrink making her way along the trail. There was no mistaking it. She was looking for the dead guy.

It had been kind of fun, chasing her, and scaring the crap out of her. Of course, killing her would have been even more fun, and so easy. He’d had his heart set on killing something in that forest.

But he’d had his instructions not to touch her. She wasn’t supposed to die in those woods. No, that was happening later.

His cell phone rang, startling him. Blade reached inside his suit-jacket pocket, pulled out the cell and switched it on. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” she whispered. “Are you at the address I gave you?”

“Yeah, and I’m sitting in the car, parked down the street. But I can see the place from here. I even figured out who lives there. Uncle George, right?”

“Very good, baby.”

“What kind of job do you want me to pull here tomorrow? Can you at least give me a hint?”

“Not over the phone. But I’ve written it down for you somewhere.”

“You and your fucking games,” he muttered.

“You love it,” she whispered. “I’m at Karen’s house. Why don’t you come over?”

“Now?”

“Yeah. I’ll be watching for you. You said you’re in the car?”

“Uh-huh.” He put the keys in the ignition. “I’ll be right over.”

“First, reach under the driver’s seat.”

Blade bent forward and felt around until his fingers brushed against something.

“I left a note for you,” she said. “Take another long look at the house, then read my note. Okay? I’ll see you soon.”

She clicked off.

Grinning, Blade switched off his phone. He pulled an envelope from under the car seat. Following her advice, he took off his sunglasses and stared at the McMillan house for a few moments. Then he tore open the envelope and read her note:

“Tomorrow, after 4 P.M.: Kill everyone in the house, and take whatever you want.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Karen!” she screamed. “Karen, where are you?”

At her desk with a glass of chardonnay, Karen was studying notes from earlier sessions with Amelia. She sprang to her feet and hurried for the stairs. Rufus followed her.

She’d talked Amelia into taking three sleeping pills, just to ensure they did the trick. Amelia had gone to bed in the guest room about fifteen minutes ago. There hadn’t been a peep out of her, and now this screaming.

Karen raced up the second floor hallway and flung open the guest room door. Between the two quilt-covered twin beds, the table lamp was on. Trembling, Amelia sat up in the bed that was farther from the door, her hands covering her face.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Karen asked. Rufus followed her into the bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” Amelia cried, still covering her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scream out like that. I feel like such a baby.” She lowered her hands, then slumped back against her pillow. “It’s just-I’m used to the dorm and all the noise. It’s so damn quiet here, I was going crazy. I started hearing things, and got scared.”

Karen sat on the other bed. “Why don’t you come downstairs and watch TV for a while?”

She shook her head. “No, I just want to sleep. More than anything, I wish I could have a couple of shots of Jack Daniel’s right now, just to relax.”

“Not after those sleeping pills,” Karen said. “You’ve been so good lately. I wouldn’t let you slide back now