Elena was a pain in the ass, but BB liked her. The girl was tough and was going to be a ballbuster one day.
It was not like she had abandoned Elena or left her to face a pack of wolves. As she’d fled through the tall grass and shrubs, the distant sound of police sirens had mingled with the kid’s cries. The cops would see her right away and take her to the hospital to get checked out. There might be a foster home, but BB would find a way to track the kid. She no longer had the jar, but if she could get the kid, there still might be a chance to trade with Sonny.
When she reached the bottom of her glass, she was tempted to order another drink. She pushed the glass away and asked the bartender for the tab. Drunks got sloppy and ended up in jail.
The bartender brought her a slip to sign. The card had worked. Hopefully she would get a few more hours’ use out of it before it popped as stolen.
The bartender picked up the slip, glanced at the tip, and smiled. “Thanks, Dee.”
A crooked grin tipped the edges of her lips as she freshened her pink lipstick. “No, thank you, baby.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Monday, August 24, 11:00 p.m.
Fear had been a part of Sonny for as long as he could remember.
As a small boy, he was always terrified that his world would shatter. Day after day, he would conjure imagined scenarios that cast him alone in an empty, cold house or running down a dark, lonely road, chasing headlights that vanished into the night.
The last few days had been particularly jarring. It should have been business as usual, but the foundation under his feet was crumbling.
A girlfriend had once announced he had abandonment issues as she packed her things and left his house for good. She accused him of holding on too tight. That he needed to trust. “Not everyone is out to screw you over,” she had screamed as she’d slammed the door on her way out.
But she had been wrong. Hell, his last girlfriend, Jennifer, had left him not even a week ago. He had moved on, of course, but as he sat in the tub with his new girl, Tammy, he made a point to savor this perfect moment, which he knew would not last.
In the background, the country music playlist finished the last of twenty songs and reset to the first song. Roger Miller snapped his fingers in a steady beat, strummed his guitar strings, and launched into “King of the Road.” The smooth melody conjured memories of riding down back roads in a blue Cadillac, top down, with the sun warming his face as his outstretched hand tried to catch the wind blowing over his fingertips. But today, he resented the uncomfortable reminder that his time was up. Time to move on. Nothing lasts forever.
The bathwater was turning cold, and the light was fading. The tall candles had melted down to nubs, leaving only a faint glow and a puddle of wax pooled on the vanity. He shifted and tightened his hold around her soft, supple shoulders as he pulled her closer to him. “It’s time.”
She was silent. Undaunted by the chilling waters. He knew she enjoyed it as much as he did. Maybe more.
He leaned her forward, rose out of the tub, and stepped onto the ice-blue bath mat that matched the towels on the rack and the paint on the wall. He gently laid her back against the edge of the tub and smoothed her blond hair off her face.
The music’s novice chords of A, D, E, A, A, D, E repeated as the song rolled on like a trucker’s wheels.
Nothing lasted forever.
He dried off and dressed in dark jeans, a V-neck sweater, and worn cowboy boots that he had bought in Kansas City thirteen years ago. He glanced back at the woman with her arched back, which exposed the delicate curve of her neck. So beautiful.
“I know you want me to stay, baby,” he whispered.
Silent, Tammy ignored him. He had seen the same look on Jennifer’s face.
Sighing, he reached in a small duffel and pulled out a favorite pair of bolt cutters. The sharp tip of the shears caught the fading candlelight.
He knelt by the tub and gently removed Tammy’s hand from the water. “I want to remember you, like this, forever.”
His fingers skimmed over the slim wrist. The pulse that had beaten so furiously when he had first met her had stopped. She felt no more fear. She no longer had to make the rent or worry about her ex finding a prettier version of her or about her crap boss pinching her ass when no one was looking. He had released her of her burdens.
Carefully, he dried off Tammy’s fingers. They were long and sensual. Her nails were beautifully manicured and painted a dark blue. “You have lovely hands. It was one of the things I noticed about you.”
Sonny reached for the bolt cutters and angled the sharp edges on either side of her naked ring finger. He drew in a deep breath and then with a hard squeeze clamped the handles closed. The blades cut through the flesh and bone, snipping the finger off in one neat cut. The finger fell to the ground beside his knee.
There was little blood. Her heart had stopped pumping hours ago.
He gently laid the hand on the surface of the water and watched as a fine ribbon of blood followed the fingers to the tub’s porcelain bottom.
He fished a plastic bag from his duffel and placed his new trophy inside. He rose and leaned forward to kiss the woman on her lips.
“I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he said. “Darlin’, it’s been real nice.”
As the dimming candles flickered lazily on the blue walls, he rose and wiped down all the surfaces he might have touched before he grabbed his duffel bag and placed his trophy inside. He picked up his iPod, waiting until Miller sang his last note before turning the device off and shoving it in his pocket. Her chin had dipped forward as her torso had begun to slump closer to the water.
Sonny left her house and drove home. As he made his way through the streets, he felt relaxed and unhurried. The killing always brought a rare, if fleeting, sense of peace. Though the serenity would not last forever, he took comfort knowing that today would be with both of them forever.
He had absorbed her fear and then her last breath. His face had been the last she had looked upon. What they had shared was rarer and more intimate than sex. They were one.
He walked through the small house and into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He popped the top and took a long drink. He foraged in a cabinet and found a bag of potato chips. Taking both, he walked into a small den, clicked on the television to a game show host declaring he had a winner.
Sonny grinned. He felt the same way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tuesday, August 25, 6:00 a.m.
Melina had slept like shit. After she had knocked off work, she had gone by the hospital to see Elena. Although the child was sleeping, she had sat with her awhile.
When her head hit the pillow at 2:00 a.m., she spent the next two hours staring at the ceiling. When sleep did come, she dreamed about deserted roads, cold, and fear.
Finally, at five she rose, showered, and made a strong cup of coffee. When Wild Kitty scratched at the back door, she made a plate of albacore tuna and sat out on the patio drinking coffee while the cat ate. Through the fence, she heard her neighbor call for his cat. Neither she nor Wild Kitty spoke up.
She checked her phone. No updates from Ramsey on the Key Killer or Mr. Ring Finger. She should not expect one, but that did not stop her from checking twice more. She read the local news on her phone, and when the cat finished eating and left, she collected the plate and went inside.
By the time she had dressed, it was after six and she had headed to the office.
As she crossed her apartment parking lot, she noted the collection of three cigarette butts by her car. She had made a point to park in a different spot. And again, the lady with the pink lipstick had chosen to stand by her car and smoke.
The beauty of being a cop was that her natural suspicions could be satisfied fairly easily. She fished a latex glove from her pocket and picked up the butts, carefully wrapping them up.
When she arrived at the office complex, most of the individual office doors were open, and she could hear the tap of keys on keyboards mingling with hushed conversations. Ramsey was already set up in the conference room working.
Fatigue scraped her nerves and sent her in search of more coffee to make her more fit to be around humans. Coffee first. Ramsey could wait.
But as she passed the conference room, he rose and opened the door. “Mr. Piper is ready with an update.”
She kept walking. “Let me grab a second cup of coffee, and I’ll be right there.”
After Melina tanked up her to-go cup, she saw Ramsey waiting in the hallway. Silent, she followed, sipping as they cut across to the forensic lab. After showing their badges, they rode the elevator down to the first floor, where the crashed car had been towed.