It must be Anna, Naomi thought. A girl had been calling out for help.
She'd broken the house rules. She said her name was Anna Miller. Poor Anna. Whoever you were before he kidnapped you.
Casanova turned off the music and spoke calmly from behind his mask; he talked as if nothing much had happened. “Her name is Anna Miller, and she did this to herself. Do you all understand what I'm saying? She was plotting through the walls, talking about escaping. There is no escape from here!” Naomi shuddered. No, there is no escape from hell, she thought. She looked at Green Eyes and nodded her head. Yes, they had to take a chance, and soon.
Alex Cross 2 - Kiss the Girls
CHAPTER 77.
THE GENTLEMAN stopped to play the game in Stoneman Lake, Arizona. It was a beautiful morning for it. It was crisp and cool and the smell of a wood fire was in the air.
He was parked in woods among the boulders, just off the rural road. No one could see him. He sat there and thought about the way this should go down as he watched a cozy, white-shingled family house through hooded lids. He could actually feel the beast taking over. The transformation. The strange passion that accompanied it. Jekyll and Hyde.
He saw a man leave the house and get into a silver Ford Aerostar. The husband seemed in a hurry, probably late for work. The wife was alone now, maybe still in bed. Her name was Juliette Montgomery.
At a little past eight, he carried an empty gas container up to the house. If anybody happened to see him, no problem. He needed fuel for his rented car.
No one saw him. Probably nobody around for miles.
The Gentleman climbed the front porch steps. He paused for a moment, then gently turned the doorknob. He found it amazing that people didn't lock their doors in Stoneman Lake.
God, he loved this ... lived for it ... his times as Mr. Hyde.
Juliette was making breakfast for herself. He could hear her half humming, half singing as he made his way across the living room. The aroma and the crackling sound of bacon frying made him think of his family's house in Asheville.
His father had been the original gentleman. Army colonel and proud and arrogant about it. Inflexible asshole who was never pleased about anything his son did. Big fan of the thick leather belt to instill discipline. Liked to scream at the top of his lungs as he beat the shit out of him. Raised the perfect son. High school standout scholar and athlete. Phi Beta Kappa undergrad. High honors in Duke medical school. Human monster.
He watched Juliette Montgomery from the doorway that led into her spotlessly clean kitchen. The window shades were up and the room was flooded with sunlight. She was still singing ... an old Jimi Hendrix song called “Castles Made of Sand.” Unexpected tune from the pretty lady.
He loved watching her like this when she thought she was alone. Singing something she'd probably be embarrassed to in front of him. Carefully laying out her three strips of bacon on a paper towel that came close to matching the beige-and-brown kitchen wallpaper.
Juliette wore a sheer white cottony negligee that fluttered around her thighs as she moved between the stove and table. She was in her mid-twenties. Long dancer's legs. Nicely tanned. Bare feet on the kitchen linoleum. Auburn hair she'd bothered to brush before coming down to make her breakfast.
A set of knives in a butcher-block holder sat on the counter. He took out the cleaver. The knife made a soft ringing noise as it lightly struck a stainless steel pot on the counter.
She turned at the sound. Very lovely in profile. Freshly scrubbed, radiant. Juliette liked herself, too. He could tell that she did.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” The words came out in small gasps. Her face was as pale as her negligee.
Now move fast, he told himself.
He grabbed Juliette and held the cleaver up high. Shades of Hitchcock's Psycho and also Frenzy- High-concept melodrama.
“Don't make me hurt you. It's all in your control,” he said softly.
She stopped the scream before it got out of her mouth, but the scream was in her eyes. He loved the look on Juliette's face. Lived for it.
“I won't hurt you as long as you don't do anything to hurt me. Are we all right so far? Are we clear as a bell?” She nodded her head curtly. A couple of nods. Her blue-green eyes were tilted up strangely. She was afraid to move her head too much for fear he'd slash her.
She sighed. Amazing. She seemed to trust him a little. His voice had that effect on people. His style and fine manners. Mr. Hyde. The Gentleman Caller.
She was looking deeply into his eyes, searching for some explanation.
He had seen that questioning look so many times before. Why? it said.
“I'm going to take your panties off now. No doubt this has been done for you before, so there's no reason to panic. You have the softest, nicest skin. I mean that,” said the Gentleman.
The cleaver slashed quickly.
“I like you, Juliette, I really do ... as much as I'm able to like anyone,” the Gentleman said in his softest voice.
