Night Mask Read Free Page B

face?”
    â€œWe can’t find it,” the CHP man said. “We’ve found and staked out most of the other body parts, but no sign of her face. Whoever did this skinned her head.”
    â€œJesus Christ!” Leo blurted. “This guy just keeps getting worse and worse.”
    â€œIf it’s a guy,” Lani amended that.
    â€œWe’re pretty sure it is,” the highway cop said. “We found some footprints ... shoe prints, rather. If it’s a woman, she’s got a hell of a foot on her.”
    The county cops squatted down and looked at the shoe prints. “ ’Bout an eleven,” Lani guessed. “That would be a big-footed woman, for sure.”
    â€œTake a look at that stride,” Leo pointed. “That’s a good twenty-eight to thirty-inch step.”
    They backed off as the forensic crew went to work.
    â€œWe have a real nut on our hands,” Leo said softly.
    â€œCertifiable,” Lani agreed.
    â€œAnd here comes the crew from KSIN TV,” Leo said, watching the dust kick up behind the wheels of the mobile van. “We have them to thank for naming this bastard. The Ripper. Not very original of them.”
    â€œWell, you’re senior to me,” Lani said with a smile. “You handle it.”
    â€œThanks so much.”
    â€œThat’s what friends are for,” Lani said sweetly.
    * * *
    The Ripper brushed the wig carefully, then replaced it on its mount. The bloody jeans and shirt had been burned the previous evening, when the night chill of the bay drifted into the coastal town and people lit their fireplaces. The Ripper smiled at the face of Jessica Kress, floating in a jar of preservative, the long hair fanning out around the face. Such a lovely face; so expressive even in death.
    The Ripper glanced at the clock on the dresser. Time to go to work, and after work, the next love affair would be selected. The Ripper loved all the dead faces in the collection; it was quite a collection. The Ripper did not always take the faces. Sometimes the faces were ugly, and the Ripper did not like ugliness. The Ripper liked beautiful things. Most of the Ripper’s victims’ bodies had not yet been found, having been carefully buried over the long years and several thousand miles. But after awhile, that had turned boring. If the bodies could not be found, where was the challenge?
    The Ripper lovingly carried each large jar back to its hiding place, placing a long and wet kiss against the glass. The Ripper longed to kiss the dead lips, but knew once sealed in the fluid, living lips would have to touch only the coolness of the glass and play pretend.
    The Ripper had been playing pretend for years. Ever since childhood. Oh, to be a child again, and gaze up into the faces of adults and lie so smoothly and convincingly after a disappearance of a playmate. That had been such fun!
    After replacing all the jars, the Ripper consulted a leather-bound ledger and carefully wrote in another name. The Ripper never wrote in the latest love’s real name, but a name that came to mind just at the moment of death. It never failed. It always came to mind. Jessica was renamed Swallow. Just like a lovely swallow. Oh, my yes.
    And now Swallow belonged to the Ripper. Forever and ever.
    * * *
    Lani sat down wearily at her desk. The Ripper had been handed to Lani and Leo. Exclusively. All their other cases had been given to other detectives. Her feet hurt and she longed to go home, stretch out in a tub of hot soapy water, and just soak all the aches away. Leo had gone home and the room was deserted, the second shift having reported in and gone. She looked at the huge stack of reports from other departments around the country, and sighed. She opened the bottom left-hand drawer and took out a bottle of Crown Royal and a glass, pouring a good three fingers of the liquid. She took off her shoes, took a sip of Canadian whiskey, and began working her way through the