Lauren Read Free Page B

a family member, sister, brother, parent, or friend.
    "You know, Tom, I'll have lunch with you. But you're paying,” Lauren told him, and he smiled as he got into her car.
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Chapter 3
    The old rock and roll song Sixteen Candles, by Johnny Mistro and the Crests, played on the old-fashioned jukebox in the corner of the restaurant. Each chrome barstool covered in shiny, sparkling red vinyl matched the surrounding booths. The tables were white and bordered in chrome. The waitresses wore old-fashioned fifties outfits with matching white caps.
    It was a popular theme for restaurants these days, and they were popping up left and right throughout the surrounding suburbs.
    It was a likable era, marked in history by great singers like Elvis, the Platters, Four Seasons, Buddy Holly, Chubby Checker, and Johnny Mistro and the Crests. The list went on. Most people loved the music, and places like these were always busy.
    He sat in the corner on a barstool, watching the young women who attended the local university a few blocks up the street.
    They were beauties, but he preferred the more mature women, who still had that innocent look about them.
    If this place didn't deliver this week's special, there were a plethora of similar places to find his next victim.
    He didn't feel so safe in the city anymore.
    After tonight, he would head north and out of the city.
    He finished the last sip of his homemade maraschino cherry coke, tipped the waitress, and left the restaurant. He got in his box truck, and made his way through the traffic to the next location, past 261st Street. Plenty of young women would be hanging out in the bars within walking distance to St. Mary's College.
    He knew all of them, had been doing this route for the past year and a half.
    Smiling, he thought about his first victim, over four years ago, and the incredible feeling of anticipation before his first kill.
    He succeeded in evading capture. He'd been triumphant, even with such great odds against him, including a few well known ‘top notch detectives.'
    He felt invincible after that special kill.
    He wasn't happy only having his fantasies, or just a handful of willing partners. He wasn't going to pay some disgusting, contaminated hooker to fulfill his desires. He loathed those disease-infested animals.
    They weren't good enough, not even close.
    What he desired was an almost purity. An innocence best described as ‘good girls.’ Not promiscuous women. He wanted classy, gorgeous, sexy, young women, who hid their curves and sexuality out of shyness, and who had very little experience.
    They stayed well hidden, but he had a special knack for finding them.
    He was getting better and better at it, but still, he had yet to find that perfect woman who fit his fantasies completely. There always seemed to be something missing. He strived to find that special woman, with an enormous desire to feel complete.
    He parked the dirty-boxed truck behind the building. It was getting late, and he had a job to do tomorrow. He got that feeling that tonight wasn't the night, as he walked toward the entrance of another location.
    Then he stopped right in his tracks, nearly lost his breath. His heart pounded against his t-shirt.
    There she sat.
    Destiny.
    The knockout redhead smiled shyly as a group of young men tried to gain her attention.
    The redhead's friends were flirtatious, as she stayed silent, practically burying her head.
    " Your mine ... and we belong ... together."
    The words to the song, his song, echoed in his head and a smile formed on his lips.
* * * *
    Lauren made her way through the 53rd Precinct in the Bronx. The stone-faced building was one of many ancient dwellings in the surrounding area. Sometimes, she wondered about all the law enforcement officers who entered this building over the decades—some, decades ago—including in her own family, on both her mother and her father's sides. She was meant to be here, to serve here, and she was so