Page 125 of D for Dead

At best he was a jealous ex-boyfriend with a grudge against Amy. At worst he was a vicious killer claiming the lives of people she knew. Neither option boded well for her partner.

* * *

This time there was no food for the man in the trunk of the car in the storage unit. He would require feeding again before he died, but it would have to wait. There were more important things to take care of first.

He went about business quickly, performing a perfunctory glance in the trunk to check the man was still breathing and hadn’t managed to loosen his bonds, before pulling the car out of the unit and replacing it with his own. This one needed to stay alive. He couldn’t die too early.

He smiled to himself, musing how easy it had been to fool him into coming to the beach house the night Nadine had died. He had shown up, believing they could be partners in taking Amy Gallaty down and, with the element of surprise and the taser, he had been quickly overpowered. The man hadn’t expected that and certainly hadn’t expected to find himself spending the next week bound and gagged in the trunk of a car.

Life could be cruel and it was regrettable he’d been taken so soon, but the police were closing in on him. If they had found him and arrested him, he would not be able to play out his role in the game. And it was a very important role.

Pulling out of the storage facility, he indicated left and pulled out onto the highway, careful to adhere to the speed limit. He couldn’t risk drawing undue attention to the vehicle and they had a long journey ahead of them.

* * *

Angell had just arrived back at the precinct when Joel got the call from Withers.

Sullivan was still over at Ryan Caparelli’s apartment and had spent the remainder of the afternoon questioning his neighbours, hoping to find someone who had seen him. Rivers was already back, having been called off the search after Angell had located David Gavin’s motel room.

He was still subdued following Peterson’s death. Maybe he was re-evaluating his career choice, realising the FBI wasn’t the right path for him.

Joel doubted it, but he could hope. He met Angell’s eyes briefly, as he answered the call, grinning at her when she scowled at him.

She had been quick to shunt him out of the door the night before, keen to try and explain things to her family. He wasn’t sure quite how she’d planned on doing that, given she’d been caught trying to get his pants off.

While he was sorry about how things had turned out, felt a little bad for Alan, even though the guy was a douche, he didn’t regret what had happened. It had been on the cards with Angell and brewing for a while. She might want to pretend she didn’t feel anything, but he knew she did. Last night had proved it.

Watching her walk over to her desk, his gaze dropped to her rear and he wondered when he would get another chance to have his hands on it. Distracted, he almost missed what Withers had said.

‘Repeat that. What did you say?’

‘I said we got a match on the blood,’ Withers told him. ‘It’s not Caparelli’s. It’s Leon Pruitt’s. Caparelli’s bathroom is where our doorman friend was murdered.’

* * *

He arrived in Melford just before dark, had time to park the car in a location he knew wouldn’t be discovered, before making his way down the street to Leslie Rooney’s house.

She had been out of town and was due to return home later in the evening. Like her sister, she lived alone. Love hadn’t been kind to the Rooney twins. Crystal had sworn off men after a soulless marriage to her college sweetheart ended when she caught him in bed with her best friend, while Leslie had remained single, having flings with numerous married men and never managing to persuade any of them to leave their wives.

He broke into the house easily, knowing exactly how to gain entry through the back patio door. That was the thing with the inhabitants of small towns. They believed they were safe and their security was usually lax.

While he waited for her return he took the time to familiarise himself with what she had done to the house. It was typically girly with ditzy prints and a lot of bright colour. The bathroom contained several flowery creams and lotions in pretty bottles and a childhood doll sat on the comforter at the end of her bed. There was no sign of any man here, he thought, catching a glimpse of himself in her free-standing mirror. Except him, of course.

Leslie was a voracious reader and she had a large collection of books. He looked for titles by Amy Gallaty, but she was a romantic at heart and all her novels were fluffy love stories.

He had been waiting at her home for just over an hour when she returned, and he moved to hide behind the door in her bedroom. He heard her downstairs, dumping her stuff and locking the door. The aroma of Chinese food drifted up the stairs, reminding him he hadn’t had time to eat. He heard her gathering plates and cutlery, the pop of a wine cork and then the sound of the television.

As he had hoped, she came upstairs before sitting down to eat. Hearing her approach the bedroom, he clenched his fists, readying.

She entered the room, kicked off her shoes and unhooked her earrings. Raising her head, she glanced in the mirror and he caught sight of her shocked expression as he approached from behind, covering her mouth with a gloved hand as she tried to scream. As she kicked and thrashed, he put his free hand round her throat and squeezed, raising her from the floor and watching her reflection in the mirror as she tried to pull his fingers away, her stockinged feet pummelling his knees as she fought to free herself.

He choked her harder, watching the light fade in her eyes, eventually felt her legs go still and her body limp. Laying her on the bed, he checked for a pulse, before going downstairs and making himself at home in front of the television.

He picked up the plate of Chinese food, tasted it, and sipped at the wine. No need to waste good food. He was hungry and a little nostalgic. He deserved a half hour break before finishing the rest of the night’s tasks.

37

After Cap left town, Troy withdrew, upset at losing the one friend he could connect with.