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But he needed to take her somewhere first. Somewhere, he could pose her in whatever weird shape he wanted this time.
So he needed her to be calm until then. Damn it, if only she could think of a way to get out of here without killing herself.
When the car stops, she thought.When the car stops, I’ll make a run for it.
In the meantime, maybe she could get him to relax and drop his guard a little bit. “What’s your name?” she asked.
He glanced at her briefly and didn’t reply. She was about to ask again when he finally said, “Edgar.”
“Edgar,” she repeated. “I’m Lana.”
“I don’t care.”
What a lovely person, she thought drily.
Well, duh. He was a murderer.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asked.
“I’m going to completerubedo,” he said. “I’m going to live forever.”
She had no idea what ruby dough had to do with living forever, but the guy was clearly crazy. “Are you sick?”
As though on cue, Edgar grimaced. He hunched over the steering wheel, the veins in his neck building. A hissing sound escaped his lips, and after a moment erupted into a hoarse cry. His right hand came to his chest, trembling. "Please," he whispered. "Please, not now. I'm so close. Please."
Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he’ll die before he can kill me.
“You should see a doctor,” she said. “They can help you.”
Edgar barked laughter. He grimaced again, then after a second, he sighed with relief. His hand trembled again as he pulled it away from his chest and put it on the wheel. "No, they can't," he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. "They've tried. It's too late. My heart function is at forty-five percent. Or it was five weeks ago. They told me I need a heart transplant soon because it's going to decline further, and when it dips below thirty percent, I'm at high risk for heart failure."
He looked at her. “Congestive heart failure. Can you believe that? I’ve eaten well and exercised my whole life. I’ve watched my weight, gotten good sleep… the whole kiboodle. But I have congestive heart failure because I have some stupid genetic issue that makes it so my body can’t digest certain kinds of fat. Instead, it decides to linger in my pericardium and my arteries. Would’ve loved to know that years ago, but what are you going to do?”
“And you think killing me is going to save you?”
He slumped slightly. “I’m sorry. I really am. I just have to complete the Magnum Opus. I need a sacrifice forrubedo, and you were the closest person to me when I stopped.”
How lovely. Lana was going to die because she needed to work late to program a damned start menu for a stupid mobile game that was probably going to sell a thousand copies before users got fed up with it. “Listen, I wouldn’t be a good sacrifice,” she said. She thought desperately for a reason and said, “I… I’ve had sex. I’m not a virgin.Gee, nice going, Lana.
As expected, Edgar was unfazed. “I don’t care. You don’t need to be a virgin. You need to be unsoiled. That means I can’t get blood on you.”
Lana got an idea. She lifted her finger to her mouth. If she could bite down hard enough to draw blood, then—
“No! Don’t you dare!”
Edgar reached behind, grabbed the back of her head and slammed her forward. Her head hit the center console, and the world exploded into darkness again.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Faith pulled her cruiser in front of the theater six minutes later. The extra minute hung in the air like a billboard, flashing in her mind like neon.
You’re late! You’re late! You’re late!
There was one other car parked in front of the burned-out building: an old minivan with faded paint and a rear bumper that hung dangerously off of the car. Faith wondered how many officers had seen that vehicle and decided that it wasn’t worth their time to give the owner a ticket. How many people could have caught their killer and stopped him before it was too late?
No, that wasn’t right. He took public transportation for every crime before now. Looking at the van, Faith guessed that was why. She was letting her thoughts run away from her. She needed to stay in control. A woman’s life depended on it.
She reached a chainlink fence and quickly scaled it. Turk whined, unable to climb the fence himself.
