“Grant,” Aidan said, keeping his voice collected. “Why should we keep beating around the bush? Your name’s Grant.”
Kent sighed. “Very well. Call me whatever tickles your pickle.”
“What do you want?” He stepped out back so Cheyenne couldn’t hear the conversation.
“Oh, you know. Just wanted to have some decent conversation,” Kent said with a heavy sigh. “It’s just so boring in here. Once you’ve lived certain ways for so long, you get accustomed.” He clucked his tongue. “You know exactly what I mean, don’t you, Aidan? In the end, you’re just like me.”
“I’m nothing like you, Grant.” Aidan forced himself to compose his breathing.
“But you are,” Kent insisted. “I saw your eyes that day at the house. When Cheyenne was close to me. If you could, you would have killed me.”
Aidan swallowed hard.
Yes, I would have killed him, he admitted to himself. But would that have made me the same as him?
“You’re wrong,” Aidan told him. “The difference between us is you kill for sport. You’ve brutally abused and murdered ninety-one people. You tried to kill three more. Anything that happened to you would be considered justified.”
“Justified?” Kent laughed lightly. “Call it what you want. But you know the truth.”
Aidan ground his teeth together and gripped the cell phone in his hand. He heard the door open behind him but didn’t turn around.
“Tell me something. Why me?”
“You?”
“You always left me a message. You wanted me to be sure I was chasing you. Why?”
He heard a breathy chuckle.
“Well, I’m sorry to say I must cut this conversation short.”
“Wait,” Aidan said. “Grant…Kent…tell me. Why did you want me investigating you?”
“I don’t want to be a phone hog.” Kent told. “But, don’t worry. You’ll be seeing me again, Agent O’Reilly. I guarantee it. Maybe then we can talk specifics. Until that day comes, keep a lookout for a parting gift I sent especially for you.”
Kent ended the call and Aidan sat staring across the yard.
Shaun sat in the chair next to him.
“Was that him?”
“Yeah,” Aidan replied distantly.
“Hope life on the inside is treating him unkindly,” Shaun replied.
“Hey, Aidan,” Laura said from behind.
He turned, not realizing she’d come out. She handed him a box.
“This just came for you.”
Aidan accepted the unmarked box and opened it.
“I don’t believe it,” Shaun whispered.
Aidan stared into the box, his throat raw.
Inside was a bouquet of white carnations.
“The man’s got some nerves,” he muttered.
Aidan pushed to his feet and made his way to the trash can. He tossed the box of carnations inside.
“I think we’ll rest better knowing he’ll answer for what he’s done,” Aidan said. “He can’t do anything to us any longer.”
“No, he can’t,” Shaun agreed.
“Laura’s got a Wii system,” Aidan said, making his way inside. “Wanna play a little bowling?”
“Sure,” Shaun replied with a coy smile. “But, I should warn you, I’m a master.”
“Sounds like a challenge,” Aidan said.
Grabbing two beers from the fridge, Aidan led the way to the living room to set up the game.
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I Can Hunt
Sneak peak
12
“HEY, RACHEL.” AIDAN lowered himself to sit in the kitchen chair, directly across from her. “I want to start by thanking you for allowing us to talk to you. We’ll try to make this as quick as possible. How are you doing?”
Rachel Amos remained silent, looking as if she’d been without a shower for several days, and Aidan supposed she had been. She wore a blue tank top with black shorts, both wrinkled as if she’d been sleeping in them. When Aidan first looked into her eyes, they were dark and sad. She now stared down at the surface of the table, tearing a napkin into small pieces.
“I know this is hard for you,” Aidan continued. “You’ve been through a great trauma, then having to be questioned time and again. But my partner and I…well, we’d like to find out what happened that day at Phinizy Swamp. To do that, we need your help. We need to hear your side of things. You’re the only one who can tell us.”
Rachel continued to maintain her silence, and her father, sitting next to her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, agents, but my daughter has been through a lot this past week. Can we—.”
“Phil,” Mrs. Amos said sharply, standing in the corner by the sink. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she glared at her husband. “One of her friends is dead. Another close to death. These agents want to know what happened. I want to know what happened.”
“Krystal, she needs time,” Mr. Amos protested, his voice cracking. He looked from Aidan to Shaun and back again. “My daughter just needs time. Can you try to understand that?”
“What our daughter needs is to talk about what happened that day,” Mrs. Amos exclaimed, cutting her hand through the air as if making a point. “I know you want to protect her, Phil, but what good is it if she’s not talking about it? She hasn’t spoken a word since it all happened. And…and…one of her best friends is dead! Leon’s in a coma…and…”
Mr. Amos pushed his chair back, screeching it angrily across the floor. “You don’t have to spell it out for me, Krystal! I know! I know!” He spewed out a curse. “I’m trying to protect my daughter.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Amos,” Shaun said, although the bickering of the parents overtook his
