But he hadn’t been too late. He’d been right on time—right on the money, as Father would have said. It was a sign he would succeed. Tonight would be a real challenge, and he was looking forward to meeting it. He was also looking forward to discovering how the lovely Detective Dillon would like the surprise he had in store for her.
He decided against following them inside. Instead, he waited in his car, watching other women going and coming, some of them with men that they wiggled against, simpering and teasing. He was glad Father had schooled him about them. Otherwise, he might very well be one of their helpless victims, forever ensnared by the promise of what was between their legs.
One had almost managed that. She had been paid to take care of him after Father’s arrest. She took care of him all right but not the way the courts had intended. At first, he had been infatuated with her, blinded by the sensations that her body aroused in him. He had thought it was love, and he’d thought she loved him—until she turned on him. Then he recognized her for what she was. A vampire. A vampire who drained the life-giving fluid from his body, then demanded more until it was no longer convenient for her.
He gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles white. He should have done her. By all rights, she should have been his first kill, but he was young then and scared. He let her get away, but even though it had taken years, he'd found a good substitute. Not her, but one that looked and acted very much like her, one he’d met in this very parking lot. Meeting her had brought him back to the hunt and set him on the path to finding more like her. None would get away again.
His hands began to ache from the force of his grip, and he released the wheel. This wasn’t good sitting here like this thinking about things that were best left in the past. Waiting and thinking made him nervous, and he couldn’t afford that.
He forced himself to relax. This wasn’t good sitting here like this thinking about things that were best left in the past. Waiting and thinking made him nervous, and he couldn’t afford that.
He opened the car door and got out, leaving it unlocked. Maybe he would go inside, after all. It was crowded. He didn’t have to be seen unless he wanted to be, and a beer might calm his nerves. But only one, he cautioned himself. Too many and he wouldn’t be sharp for what was to come.
CHAPTER 26
As on the night she and Will had stopped in, the music was loud and the lights dazzling. As she and Trish shouldered their way through the crowd to a small table, Jen wondered if she were getting old. Loud, crowded nightclubs didn’t do it for her anymore. Actually they never had. They were too impersonal, and she felt names like The Factory suited them. Why, she wondered, had a girl who seemed as real as Vicki liked this atmosphere? Had it been a way to keep from getting involved and hurt again?
“Would you like to dance?”
She looked up into the smiling face of a man at least ten years her junior. He looked nice enough, with medium length brown hair, green eyes, and a nice smile, not like the monster they were looking for, But then who knew what mask the monster might be wearing?
They gyrated to two fast numbers played back to back, then Jen begged off. Trish was dancing when Jen returned to the table. She downed her Pepsi and ordered another, sighing as she realized this could be a long and boring night. Thinking of how it had felt to be in Will’s arms, pressed against his body, she knew what she’d rather be doing.
She didn’t know what she had expected when she’d suggested the outing to The Factory. Perhaps she’d thought that a serial killer would stand out in some way, even though she knew better. Or maybe she thought he would trail them home where they could make a heroic effort and place him under arrest, thereby saving the women of the city.
She shivered a little as she thought of the latter scenario and suddenly felt afraid. The feeling was alien to her. She supposed she was spooked by having seen the condition of the victims, or maybe Will’s attention had touched off some subconscious female desire to be protected. Whatever the reason, she felt, as Ada would have said, as if someone had just stepped on her grave.
“Hello, ladies. Having a good time?”
Larry Adams from the coroner’s office stood by their table, a can of beer in his hand. He spoke to both of them, but he was staring at Trish.
“Hello, Larry.” Trish looked uncomfortable. “How have you been?”
“Can’t complain. How about you?”
“I’ve been okay.”
A slow number had just started playing. Larry ran his hand through his wavy brown hair and smiled at Trish. Jen noticed that only his lips did the smiling; it never quite reached his eyes.
“I don’t suppose you’d like to dance,” he said to Trish.
“No, thanks,” Trish said. “I’m really a little tired. I think I’ll take a breather from the dance floor.”
“Yeah, you have been pretty busy tonight.” An ugly tone had crept into his voice. “I don’t guess you need me.”
Jen saw Trish beginning to get angry, but before she could speak, Larry moved away from their table, disappearing rapidly into the crowd.
“Jerk.” Trish looked rattled by the encounter.
“So fill me in. What’s with you two?”
“We went out a couple of times.” Trish shook her head. “I don’t know why I accepted the second time, since I suspected he was a weirdo from the beginning. It was right after Les, though, and I don’t
