Have You Seen Her? Read Free

little of it show. “Of course I can, Lennie. I wish you’d just leave it the hell alone.”
    Lennie shook his head. “I can’t, you know that. I don’t want one of my lead agents cracking in the middle of what could turn out to be a high-profile serial murder case. I also don’t want you to have to go through another case where children are stolen out of their beds.”
    Like Nicky had been, six months before when a wife-beating, murdering cop took his littlest boy hostage to make Steven back down. Nicky was returned, physically unharmed, in large part due to the heroics of the cop’s abused wife, but his baby had not been the same. Gone was his infectious laughter, the way he’d hugged them for no reason at all. Nicky had allowed no hugs since that day six months ago. He hadn’t slept in his own bed, either, and he hadn’t slept through the night.
    Steven knew this because he sure as hell hadn’t slept through the night either.
    Lennie broke into his thoughts. “Steven, can you handle this or not?”
    Steven looked at the picture of the mutilated body of Lorraine Rush and thought about the newest girl, missing from her bed. These girls deserved justice, above all else. He looked up at Lennie, his smile a mere baring of teeth. “Yes, Lennie. I can handle it.”
    Lennie handed him the report, concern still evident in his eyes. “Her name is Samantha Eggleston. Her parents are waiting for your call.”
    Thursday, September 29, 11:00 P.M.
    Thunder rolled off to the east. Or was it west? It really didn’t matter, he thought, scratching the back of his neck with the flat of the blade. With his very sharp blade. He grinned to himself. One slip would be the end of him. He glanced down at the ground and raised a brow thoughtfully. One slip would be the end of her, too. But never stop with just one slip. Not when he’d gone to so much trouble. Every movement must be planned. And savored. He rolled up his left sleeve, then transferred the blade from one gloved hand to the other and methodically rolled up the right while she watched, her blue eyes wide and terrified.
    Terrified was good. Just looking at her lying there tied, and scared—and nude—made his skin tingle with anticipation. She was completely under his control.
    It was like . . . electricity. Pure electricity. And he’d made it. He’d created it. What a rush.
    Rush. As in Lorraine Rush. No pun intended. Lorraine had been a good practice run. A good way to return to the game after so long on the sidelines. He’d forgotten just how damn good it felt.
    This new one, she hadn’t made a sound yet. Well, she was wearing a thick strip of duct tape over her mouth to be perfectly fair. But he’d take the tape off eventually and she would. She’d try not to. She’d bite her lip and cry. But in the end she’d scream her head off. They always did. And it wouldn’t make one lousy bit of difference. That was one good thing about Hicksville. There were places you could go and scream bloody murder and nobody would ever hear a single word.
    Another roll of thunder rattled the dry ground under his feet and this time he looked up to the night sky, totally annoyed. It could actually rain. How irritating was that? “The best laid plans,” he muttered, then had to grin as he punned once again.
Laid.
That was the operative word. One of ’em anyway. Then the wind changed and his grin faded. Of all the sonofabitch nights to rain.
    He crossed his arms over his chest, holding the ten-inch blade out to one side, and frowned. He could just get it over with, but that seemed anticlimactic. He’d planned for quite a while to bag this little doll. She’d been so unsure. “I just don’t know,” she’d whispered into the phone, trying not to wake her parents and sound breathy at the same time. In his mind he mocked her maidenly refusals. If her parents only knew their little darling was a real little slut, meeting a stranger after they’d gone to sleep. No brainiac here.