Should he come up with a whole new plan for disposing of the bodies? If he did, would Florence Harris be able to figure that out as well? Should he get rid of the detective so she couldn’t come after him? Would that change anything? He knew that she had a partner, Detective Jake Zeus, and the whole department was no doubt up to date on his case. He was a serial killer with fifteen bodies under his belt, and eighteen months of avoiding detection after all.

Going after the detectives on the case was probably not a good idea. It was possibly a shortcut to a prison cell, and yet here he was, standing outside the apartment building where Florence Harris lived.

The building was nothing fancy and didn't appear to have great security, he probably could get inside if he wanted to, and hedidwant to.

Badly.

He wanted to wrap his hands around the woman’s throat and force her to tell him how she had seen him. He wanted to know how she had figured him out. She had done the impossible, and it was driving him crazy.

All his life he’d wanted to be noticed. As the middle of three boys he hadn't been intelligent like his older brother whose IQ had been off the charts, nor had he been sporty like his youngest brother who had gone to college on a football scholarship. He wasn't particularly good looking, nor was he noticeably ugly. He was just boring, average, invisible.

He’d longed to be noticed.

To be special.

To have someone, even just one person, pay attention to him, help him find out what he was good at, what made him unique, and then help him excel at that.

But that had never happened.

Parents and teachers had all overlooked him.

Girls at school had barely thrown an iota of attention his way, he’d been turned down more times than he could count. Usually, the only time he garnered a little attention was when a girl wanted to make another boy jealous, and what better way to do that than with the kid no one noticed.

That problem had plagued him through college and into adulthood, and he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been with a woman.

That was all going to change though.

He was going to teach the women of this city that he wouldn’t be overlooked any longer. They would learn. One at a time they would learn. If he had to kill every single woman in New York City he would do just that.

No one could say he was invisible now.

The entire city was terrified of him.

To know that his actions had an impact on strangers was a heady rush. He wondered if women had changed their routines to try to protect themselves from him. Did they try to make sure they didn't walk to their cars or the subway on their own? Did they make sure to look behind them if they were walking the streets to see if anyone was watching them? Did they make sure they put the chains on their doors at night to stop him from getting in?

None of those things would stop him.

If they looked at him they wouldn’t see him, and if he set his mind on getting his hands on a woman, then he got his hands on them.

Nothing stopped him when he wanted something.

Because he was like the invisible man, the women he set his sights on didn't even know he was there until it was too late for them to do anything about it. He didn't need to use subterfuge to get to them, he just walked straight up to their doors, and because no one thought the invisible man was a threat,they threw it open. Before they could stop him, he had them restrained and gagged.

Always gagged.

He wasn't there to listen to them talk, he was there forthemto listen tohimtalk. For once, he had a captive audience, someone who was going to sit there and listen without interrupting, he wasn't going to waste that opportunity by listening to them whine, and cry, and plead for their lives.

Not once in his life had anyone ever shown him mercy so he saw absolutely no reason why he should show them mercy. Once he’d unloaded a lifetime of anger and frustration, purging himself as it were, there was nothing to do but strangle them. It was nice to be the center of someone else’s world, even if it was for a short time. There was no way he wasn't taking advantage of that by taking control of their lives and ending them when and how he chose.

He liked the undivided attention, he liked knowing that for those forty-eight hours, he was no longer invisible. It was like being God.

It was something he wasn't about to give up anytime soon.

Which meant he was going to have to keep a close eye on Detective Florence Harris. She was an enigma of sorts, she had somehow managed to figure him out, and yet he didn't know enough about her to figure out what his next move should be.

That was about to change.

He looked up at the windows he knew belonged to the detective’s apartment, wondering what she was doing in there. He knew from his initial assessment on the cops working his case that she was single, no family that he could find anywhere in the city, she didn't do much other than work, the gym, and the occasional outing with some friends to a bar or restaurant for a meal.