Speak No Evil

“You were very good. Not like the whore. You were sweet and fresh and new. All for me.” When he’d penetrated her the first time he’d realized she was a virgin. He’d come instantly, the knowledge that he’d be the first and the last man to have her providing such intense excitement he didn’t want to hold back.

She strained against the gag. “Don’t do that. You’ll make it hurt more. You can’t tell anyone what happened.”

She shook her head back and forth, her eyes wide. She tried to say something, guttural sounds rumbling in her throat. He didn’t understand her, but he didn’t have to. She’d just lie to him. All women, even beautiful virgins like Becca, lie. She’d say she wouldn’t tell, but the first thing she would do is go to the police and tell them who he was.

Obviously, he couldn’t allow that to happen.

He washed her hair and poured water over her head. She breathed heavily, tears running from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, it has to be done.” He motioned for her to get up. “Walk back to the bed,” he told her.

Her entire body shook, water dripping off her to the floor. He walked behind her with a towel, one he bought just for her. Brand-new, never been used.

Suddenly, she ran for the door.

“No!” He took three long strides, but she had the door open and ran down the hall.

He was faster. He caught her before she even touched the front door.

He threw her body down on the floor. Her head hit the coffee table and he saw blood on her scalp. He’d have to clean the table later.

She struggled as he picked her up and she scratched his neck. He held her tight, brought her back to his bed. She fought and cried as he tied her up, her hands above her head and her feet to the posts at the end of the bed.

His breathing was rapid, his face flushed with the exertion. And, if he thought about it, the excitement of chasing her. He’d been scared, very scared, for a minute, but he couldn’t ignore the rush when he caught her, subdued her, brought her back to his bed, and tied her up.

He looked at the hand that had scratched him. He couldn’t see anything under her nails, she had barely even broken his skin, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t there. He had to be careful. He took a sharp knife and cleaned under her fingernails. She bled. He then held her hand in a bowl of bleach. A guttural scream reverberated in her chest and he watched her vocal cords and the small, thin bones strain against her neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but she had tried to escape.

He took the time to flush the bloody bleach down the toilet and carefully wash the bowl.

Then he returned to Becca, plastic wrap in hand.

He started at her feet. Slowly, carefully, wrapping Becca’s body.

First one leg. Then the other. Her butt, everything but her vagina. Her waist. Around and around. Her breasts. Then each arm. And to be safe, he wrapped her again.

His entire body quivered with excitement.

He looked in her eyes and saw fear.

“Good night, Becca.”

He rolled on a condom and pushed himself into her with one stroke. Her body jerked beneath him. He brought the plastic heavy-duty garbage bag from his nightstand, pulled it over her head, and tied it around her neck.

Then he laid on top of her as her body convulsed beneath him.

This time, he was done when she was.

EIGHTEEN

ANGIE’S MEMORIAL SERVICE was held at a funeral home near the college in the middle of the business district. More than a hundred people crowded into the chapel waiting for the service to begin. To Carina, it was particularly depressing that so many in attendance were young. And at the front of the room poor Angie lay in her coffin.

Will touched Carina’s arm. “I’m sorry I have to bail on you. My flight leaves in two hours. I’d better high-tail it to the airport.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “Keep that scumbag in prison where he belongs. That’s part of our job, so don’t worry about it.” She glanced over to where Nick and his brother were in a quietly heated conversation. “Nick can fill in for you until you return.”

“Hmmm.”

She jerked her head back to Will and narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s what?” He was grinning.

“That hmmm.”

“You’re reading way too much into my noncomment.”

“We’ve been partners for over a year, friends for even longer. I know you.”

“And I know you.” Will looked over her shoulder at Nick. “I don’t make it a habit to check out men, but he seems smart and reasonably good-looking. Not as handsome as yours truly, of course, but men of my attributes are rare.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a plane to catch?

Will laughed. “He’s a good cop. The chief was impressed with his background. I like him, too.”

“Ask him out on a date when you get back,” she snapped.

“I think you’re more his type.”

“Go away.”

“Going, going. Be careful, okay?”

“I promise.”

Will left and Carina walked over to Nick and Steve.

“I don’t like being treated like a suspect by my own brother,” Carina overheard Steve say to Nick before he saw her. He glared at Carina. “Detective Kincaid,” he snapped.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but Hooper left and I need to talk to you, Nick.” She eyed Steve suspiciously. She flat-out didn’t like him. Though he’d moved down on the suspect list, his attitude about his affair with Angie and the other college girls left her with a sour taste in her mouth. She certainly wouldn’t want him anywhere around Lucy, though she suspected her sister had a good head on her shoulders and wouldn’t be sweet-talked by a guy twice her age, regardless of how attractive or clean-cut.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, then shut it and walked away. Carina watched as he spotted Angie’s friends Abby, Jodi, and Kayla. The foursome embraced.

Nick tensed beside her.

“I’m sorry,” she began. “Will left and I wanted to point out the undercover team since you’re not familiar with our people.”

“I saw them.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I guess we’re not as discreet as I thought.”

He grinned at her. “Maybe I’m just better than you thought.”

She hadn’t thought of Nick Thomas as much of a joker. She liked the lighter side of him.

But a memorial service was no place for lightness. His humor dissipated as he kept his eye on his brother.

“You know,” she said, “he’s not guilty.”

“I know.”

She watched Steve Thomas closely. Angie’s friends certainly didn’t look scared of him. Kayla was a bit standoffish, but that was her personality. Rough and prickly. Abby and Jodi, on the other hand, constantly touched his arm, his back. Jodi left her hand on his forearm, leaned over and whispered something in his ear, then kissed his cheek.

Dillon’s explanation of why Angie was attracted to older men made sense, even if Carina herself couldn’t relate to the girl. But Abby? Jodi? They were from traditional families, didn’t seem to have the same dysfunctional