I make you nervous.
You can’t work out what makes me tick.
I’m unpredictable.
I’d blotted my copybook when I was just a kid, and I knew it. That was why I’d been sent to boarding schools, camps, anyplace that was far from them. They’d even insisted I live in student accommodations rather than remain at home, which I could easily have done. That was the reason they’d sent me to psychologists, not that they ever learned a damn thing about me.
They probably suspected plenty. but I was way smarter than they were.
A line came to mind fromThe Silence of the Lambs. The last words of Benjamin Raspail.
I wonder why my parents didn’t kill me before I was old enough to fool them.
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll go.”
Father smiled. “I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”
Internally, I grinned.Not even close.
It had occurred to me that he was giving me a whole new backyard to play in.
My kind of play.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Monday, December 24, 2018
DAN FINISHEDhis call with such an exasperated noise that Gary gazed at him in concern.
“Let me guess. Jennifer Sullivan is still unavailable.”
Dan rolled his eyes. “Why did no one tell me when I first called that her trip was expected to last several weeks? Now they’re telling me she won’t be back in Boston until early January.”
“Then we’ll talk to her when she gets back,” Gary said in a soothing tone. He got up from his chair, walked over to Dan, and squeezed his shoulder. “Hey. Tomorrow is Christmas Day. In an hour’s time, we’ll be out of here and on our way to Hampton Falls to spend the holidays with your family. So don’t stress, okay?” He bent down and kissed Dan on the cheek but straightened quickly when the door opened.
Riley chuckled. “Hey, don’t stop on my account. I’m down with any displays of affection. I’m hoping for a few myself. I’ve invested in a huge sprig of mistletoe, and that baby had better work or I want my money back.” He dropped a package wrapped in brown paper on Dan’s desk. “Mail.” He grinned. “Maybe it’s a present from an admirer. You’d better watch out, Gary. Someone might be trying to poach your man.”
Dan turned the package over. “No return address,” he commented.
An alarm bell was suddenly ringing in Gary’s head. He threw a pair of disposable gloves at Dan. “Just being careful.”
Dan froze. “Aw fuck, not another one.” He put the gloves on, then removed the wrapping paper. Inside was a paperback, a note attached to the cover with a paper clip. “The Crucifix Killer, by Chris Carter.” He grimaced. “Nice title. Not sure it’s my kinda book, however.” He peered at the note and then read it aloud. “‘You might want to do a little homework. You know, to be ready for the next one.’ I am getting sick and tired of playing the mouse in this freaking relationship,” he muttered.
“What’s it about? Apart from the obvious, given the title.” Gary stared at it. “Do we get a clue why he sent this one?”
Dan turned it over and scanned the back cover. He rolled his eyes. “How apt. It’s about a serial killer who selects victims at random, then taunts the cops with their inability to catch him.” He handed it to Gary. “Send it to the lab, the wrapping too, but don’t expect to find any clues. This guy is too good to be that sloppy.”
Riley gazed at the book in obvious disgust. “You think he’s gonna do another murder, using one from this book?”
Dan snorted. “You want to know what Ireallythink? He’s toying with us. This is psychological warfare.” He glared at Gary. “Well, I think it’s time to turn the tables.”
Riley slid his hands into a pair of gloves. “Can I take a peek?”
Gary passed it to Riley. “Knock yourself out. You’ll get more out of it than either of us will.”
“That’s the plan. In case it proves useful.” He skimmed through it, and Gary knew something was up the moment Riley stilled. “Hey, wait a sec….”
“What is it?” Dan demanded.