He hoped they were coming back out. He didn’t want to sit out all night in yet another trashy rental car. They always smelled so
He saw lights go on in several rooms. It amused him to imagine Torie stripping out of the snug pants she’d had on. He liked thinking of her, standing naked before him. Desperate, helpless. He wanted her that way. Again. And again.
His breathing quickened, and he could feel himself harden under his own seeking hand. It wouldn’t do to take care of that now. Not in a car that might be traced to him in some way.
No. Later, he would picture her behind those windows, weeping and helpless, ready for him to come for her.
He would be able to take her as he wanted to. Paul would be dead. Maybe, just maybe he’d keep her alive. See where things went from there. He could always kill her. Later.
The lights changed, with the outside lights coming on. It pulled him from his imaginings, and he eased down in the seat so he wouldn’t be seen.
The garage door opened and they pulled out. If Paul were leaving alone, ah, then Torie would be alone. How… convenient.
But, no. Irritation washed over him as they passed. He could see that both of them were in the car. He brightened a bit, though, thinking that they’d been in the house such a short time that Paul wouldn’t have had time to touch her again. He knew Paul couldn’t leave her alone. And Torie was a tease, a woman, after all. He knew Paul would want to have her. Besmirch her.
Unless he had a short fuse. He giggled at the thought of the infamous Paul being an early shooter.
He tamped down the amusing thought as he turned the car on and followed them. Not too close. As interesting as it was to speculate, it didn’t help him focus. He had to be cautious, keep his cool. Watch for opportunities.
The restaurant was small. The parking lot was dark, with shadowy corners. Even better, there was a lot above it, rising about six feet to one side. From there he could see the whole building, including Paul’s elegant Mercedes.
He curled his lip. As if buying a sleek car made the man better, made him more worthy somehow. Yeah, right.
Pulling the notes from his pocket, he reviewed the distances. If he used the nine millimeter as he had for the hired sedan, he might have enough of a clear shot to hit either Torie or Paul. The twenty-two was too wimpy for this, and it was safely disposed of anyway.
He squinted in the low light, scanning for more details. He wasn’t that far away, but he could easily leave the lot and go onto the side street without being seen.
Almost perfect. He would have liked to plan this out more thoroughly. He didn’t like chance. It messed things up. Everything that had gone wrong for him had been by chance. More time, and he would have had Torie. More luck, and it would have been him, not Todd, rolling in the millions. If he’d won, if he’d had the money, then all his father’s maunderings could have been cast aside like the drivel it was.
Well. Water under the bridge, as his dear old mother would have said. Hmmphf.
She should have known better, too. It had been so easy with her, after all. She couldn’t swim.
The doors to the restaurant opened, and a couple came out. He cursed himself for sitting, wallowing in the past. Nothing could be done about it now. Nothing that he wasn’t already doing, that is.
He’d never get the shot planned, get the silencer on. His palms began to sweat as he fumbled for the sections of the gun.
“Damn it all.”
He froze at the sound of his own voice. Silence was the rule. You couldn’t…
The couple was getting into another car. Some kind of SUV. It wasn’t Torie and Todd…Torie and Paul. Todd was dead. Already dead. He’d been to the funeral. Yes.
Now, to get his aim down pat before his real target came out.
Chapter Fourteen
“You’re sure?” He slid his hand over the nape of her neck, deliberately repeating the gesture he’d used to bring her closer before, when they’d only kissed the first time.
“I’m not sure of anything right now, Paul. I can’t help it, I want this.”
“That’ll do.” Paul pushed the door of the restaurant open, resting a hand on her back to keep her close, feel her. He also registered the cool night air, the feeling that rushed over him as he contemplated taking Torie home, making love to her again.
He helped her into her seat. It was impulse that made him do it, bend to kiss her.
He barely heard the thwick of the bullet whizzing over his back, but the window next to him shattered into a million glittering shards.
“What the—”
“Get
“Shit!” a different voice yelled.
He heard the sound of an engine, heard the shuffle of moving feet, but all he could see was the glass. It covered his feet, covered Torie’s lap. She’d thrown herself sideways, a wise move.
“No.” He pushed her back down as she started to shift. “Stay there.”
“You okay?” Detective Tibbet appeared seemingly out of nowhere, peering through the blasted window.
