Page 149 of Risky Passion

I glanced out at Alice’s partially dug grave.

That one would take me all night, too. Maybe all day tomorrow. But just like every other grave I’d dug, I would get it done.

Because that was what I did. I got things done.

Whitmore never molested any more little girls after that.

Dragging his body up those stairs had been damn hard, especially since it was the middle of the night and I was trying to be quiet. Lucky for me, the night security guard was too busy screwing the deputy principal at the time. So I didn’t have to worry about him.

Whitmore’s body is also buried in the side paddock behind the gardener’s shed.

I stopped writing and stared out at the moonlit waves. The wind had picked up, rustling the leaves and whispering through the shack’s weathered boards.

I took a long breath. Then I wrote:

My next murder was another teacher, Miss Williams. The bitch who tortured poor little Thomas Wexler.

My heart sagged as I wrote his name down.

I was sixteen when I lured Miss Williams into the laundry room and beat her to death with a metal bucket. She begged for her life, tears pouring down her face. But she never stopped hurting Thomas when he cried like that . . . so she didn’t deserve my mercy.

She, too, is buried behind the gardener’s shed.

The soil was soft there, on account of the gardener using that area for his veggie patches over the years.

The mention of poor Thomas brought me to a group of fucking assholes who had ruined many lives. Especially mine—over and over:

The Kincaid Brothers.

Two of the Kincaid brothers changed their names.You should recognize who they are:

Fred Kincaid – Frank Kingsman

Mark Kincaid – Mason Kingsman

Robert Kincaid

Ryan Kincaid

Henry Kincaid

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