Page 123 of Last Girls Alive
Shane began to stir and expressed low moans. There was blood seeping from his scalp from where he had been struck.
“Look, let him go. He doesn’t know anything about what I know,” she said, testing him.
Laughing, he said, “You’re not going to analyze me, convince me, change my mind, relate to me, or walk away alive. Is that clear enough for you?”
Trying to ignore the rage that was simmering just below the surface in Jerry, she said, “Oh, I get it. It’s very clear to me now. Thanks for clearing that up.”
Jerry scaled back his anger slightly and took two steps from Shane and then back to Katie. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what, Jerry?” She knew that she was walking a very thin line with his psychological disturbance, but some things were becoming quite clear.
He stopped moving but the gun was still aimed at Katie’s head.
“Go ahead and mock me. You have no idea who I am.”
“Why don’t you tell me,” she said trying to decipher his movements and the intent behind them. “Or maybe I’ve heard it all before. Bad home life, mommy didn’t love me, I’m so misunderstood.”
He twitched. She’d touched a nerve.
“So maybe you just decided to make up a world where you are important? You immersed yourself in a fantasy about being in charge, about taking care of yourself and being a hunter-gatherer. But why did it have to be in Italian?”
“Detective, you never know where your inspiration will come from. His words consumed me, it was like heknewme. He looked right into my damaged soul and healed it with the romance of the Italian language…” He readjusted his grip on the gun. “You think you know me? You know nothing.”
“Oh, I know more than you think. What? You were kicked into a foster home? You somehow relate to these kids? At least you thought you did, but guess what, they didn’t relate to you,” said Katie watching him closely.
“I know what you’re doing. And it’s not going to work.”
“I must be getting warmer… foster kid… maybe you fell for a girl who didn’t return your affections… but she had your heart and then stomped on it… Am I getting warmer?” She taunted him, throwing out wild theories, but they could be very effective.
Jerry used his free hand to rub the side of his head vigorously in a strange, almost mechanical manner.
“I am getting warmer, huh?” she said. Knowing she only had one chance, she was waiting for the perfect, almost imperceptible moment to attack. Her training had taught her that there was always one… To be patient was key…
“Why did you have to kill them? What did any of them do to you?”
“They’re all…”
“The same, Jerry? How can that be?”
“They are all the same… they can’t… don’t understand…” His speech became inconsistent and jerky.
“They don’t understand you? Is that it, Jerry?”
“I took care of them when they were dead, not mocking me anymore, no more laughter. I bathed them, washed their hair. I left them just as they came into the world—naked and pure.”
“You killed the wrong girl,” she said loudly.
“I know… I didn’t know for a while… it’s just… it was my first mistake.”
“No, Jerry your first mistake was feeling sorry for yourself.” Thinking quickly, she continued, “You made quite a few mistakes. The fingernail?”
He took a step back, confused. “No, that wasn’t a mistake. It was… I didn’t…”
Katie thought she might be able to disarm him and that he was going to admit defeat.
Jerry changed mood again, his personality suddenly forceful and condescending. “You think you’re special, Detective. But none of you are—just teases.”
“All this turmoil and killing because of a bad relationship? You can do better than that. Grow up… We all have problems, Jerry.”
