know his flesh had touched something Rose would touch, but he wasn’t insane. She’d take the note to the police for testing. So he took care; used bottled water to seal the envelope. He ran a hand vac over both note and envelope before sealing the first inside the second. The envelope immediately went into a resealable plastic bag for the trip.
He felt flush, still sated by what he had done. He wasn’t delusional like some who did what he did; he didn’t imagine himself ridding the earth of harlots or releasing tortured souls from hell on earth into eternal paradise. He killed because he liked to watch the aftermath. Like a stone hitting the surface of a placid lake, what he did sent out circles of reaction, and he liked to see just how far those circles could travel. It started small-the victim, her loved ones, her friends. With a single act, he’d changed the course of their lives forever.
But the effects of his handiwork didn’t stop with those closest to her. They spread across the full spectrum of his victim’s life, touching acquaintances, her neighborhood, even her city. Killing wasn’t a solitary crime with a single victim. When he killed, his actions affected thousands of people in ways big and small.
It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about hate.
It was about power.
He had always been an arbitrary, greedy god over his chosen domain, striking when and where he pleased for reasons that made sense to no one but him.
But now he had Rose.
She would tell him who came next.
Chapter Ten
Unrelenting darkness swallowed Rose, as cold as death. Goose bumps scattered along her arms and legs, the skin at the back of her neck prickling with unease.
She wasn’t alone in the darkness. She could hear him breathing, a slow, soft whisper of sound close by.
She turned in a slow circle, her eyes darting back and forth but finding nothing but blackness. But she still heard him breathing, so close that she imagined she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.
Terror trapped her own breath deep in her burning chest. Her head began to swim, specks of color sparkling in the blackness. She forced herself to breathe, trembling as sweet air rushed into her lungs.
A chuffing sound filled her ears. He was laughing at her.
“Who are you?” she rasped.
He didn’t answer, but she felt his breath hot on her neck.
She whirled, flailing out and hitting only air. Her arm swung around and hit her side with a thud, making her gasp.
Twin circles of blinding light pierced the darkness. Rose squinted, her pupils contracting as the lights grew. A rumbling sound filled her ears, growing louder as the featureless darkness faded into recognizable shapes. She stood on the side of a dark highway, surrounded by trees and brush. The lights were car headlights moving toward her on the deserted road.
A narrow strip of grassy shoulder separated the highway from twin stands of young pines rising on either side of the road. Down the highway about a mile, the trees thinned out to make room for houses set well back from the road. Light from inside the homes dotted the darkness with specks of warm gold.
But they were too far away to hear her if she screamed.
The headlights filled her vision, driving out the darkness. She squinted, her eyes aching.
Suddenly the lights flickered out. The car came to a stop beside her, the engine noise idling down to a low growl.
She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move.
The driver’s door opened. A dome light blinked on, backlighting the figure emerging from the car. She peered at him, trying to make out features, but he was only a silhouette.
“Who are you?” she asked again.
He didn’t answer, moving with deliberate strides. One hand lifted, gripped around the shaft of a large hunting knife, its shiny steel blade reflecting the dome light’s pale white glow.
Rose screamed.
The darkness exploded with light. Rose’s legs came to life, thrashing to free themselves of the strange paralysis that had gripped her in the darkness.
It took a moment to realize she was in her own bed, her legs tangled in a chenille throw. She fell back against her pillows, her pulse hammering in her throat. The events of the night before flooded her mind in a sickening rush.
Melissa was dead, she remembered, her heart leaden.
The bed shifted. Her eyes flew open to find Daniel beside her, his gray eyes warm with concern. “You screamed.”
She covered her face, embarrassment warming her cheeks. “I had a nightmare.”
He stroked her arm. “Obviously.”
“I think I was imagining what Melissa must have seen.” The glitter of the knife blade was clear in her mind. She met Daniel’s gaze. “But I don’t think I got it right.”
He didn’t speak, giving her an opening to continue.
“I was alone on a highway. It was pitch-black and deserted. I remember thinking nobody was close enough to hear me scream.”
He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers sliding along the curve of her cheek. “Must’ve been scary.”
“There was a car. It stopped beside me, and a man got out. I couldn’t see his face, only the blade of his knife.”
Daniel pulled her to him, sliding his hand up and down her back in a gentle, soothing motion. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think that’s how it was for Melissa,” she murmured against his neck. “I think she saw him and was relieved.”
Daniel pulled back. “You think she knew him?”
“Do you think Melissa would go willingly with a stranger?”
“No,” he conceded.
“I don’t think Alice would have, either.”
“So you think it was someone they both knew.”
“Maybe it was Mark Phagan.”
Daniel threaded his fingers through hers. “Because she found out he was cheating? Wouldn’t his murder be the more likely outcome?”
“What if he’s Orion?”
Daniel’s eyebrows lifted. “Why would you think that?”
“We couldn’t get him on his cell phone most of last night.”
“He had a fiancee and a girlfriend both ready to kill him. He had a full plate.”
“He lied to Melissa about where he was the night Alice Donovan died. He told Melissa he was going to Tuscaloosa, but I overheard him setting up an alibi with his friends.”
Daniel glanced her way again. “Well, he was cheating on her. Maybe he lied to cover a tryst.”
“What if he’d lied about something else?”
Daniel frowned. “Could explain Alice and Melissa, but what about the other two?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe Alice and Melissa were copycat killings.”
“Melissa, maybe. But why Alice?”
She sighed, frustrated that she couldn’t make her theory fit. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Not if it’s a copycat.” He ran his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist. “But maybe he knew the other victims, too.”
“So he could be behind all four murders?”
“He’ll be investigated. Significant others always are,” Daniel assured her.
