Page 27 of Line of Sight
He’d need to be breathing to do that.
Brad frowned. “I didn’t tell you where I lived.”
I rolled my eyes. “Is that really important right now?” I gave him an earnest stare. “You were right.”
He stilled. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “I need to give myself up.” I gestured to a nearby picnic table, one of a few nestled close to the trees. “Can we sit? I’m exhausted. I think the strain of all this is finally wearing me down.”
Lying always came easily to me. Years of hiding behind one mask or another made deceit second nature.
He hesitated, and my heart pounded.
I don’t have all day. In fact, my narrow window of time was shrinking all the while he stood there deciding.
I knew when he made eye contact and his shoulders loosened that he’d relented.
“Sure. But not for long. I need to get home. I’ll be driving back to campus soon.” He sat on the bench, and I walked behind him, removing the syringe from my pocket. I thrust the needle into his neck, into the artery, then covered his hand with my mouth, muffling his cry of shock and pain.
I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
“You won’t feel a thing, I promise. I’ve given the manner of your death a lot of thought. I’ll be honest, it took me a while to come up with the perfect way to dispatch you. But in a way, you helped me when you said you were going to tell the police.” I smiled. The answer had been right there in front of me, thanks to Edgar Allan Poe. “Your death won’t be like the others. Oh, didn’t I tell you that part? How remiss of me. Therewillbe others. Because now I’ve gotten started? I see no reason to stop, not now I know how easy it is. The rush it brings.”
Brad probably didn’t hear that. He was out cold, maybe even dead already.
Time to remove the raincoat, scalpel, and bone saw from my bag.
Chapter Seventeen
Saturday, December 8, 2018
GARY FINISHEDhis report for Travers, not that they had all that much to report on, but Travers wanted to be kept in the loop.
Scott McCarthy’s file sat on his desk. Gary could understand why the case had baffled detectives at the time: no motive and no suspects. And while both his and Dan’s instincts were telling them Greg Collins needed further investigation, he couldn’t get past that alibi.
I didn’t imagine it, did I? Gregwasrattled.And then there was the whole business of not shaking Dan’s hand, not to mention the fact that Greg had known Brad too.
Coincidence?
The door opened, and Dan came in. One glance was enough to tell Gary something was wrong. Dan was pale, his lips curled in an expression of disgust, his face tight.
Gary froze. “What’s happened?”
Dan closed the door, and Gary saw sheets of paper in his hand. “Apparently I relaxed too soon.” He tossed them onto Gary’s desk. “From our fan club.”
Gary peered at the sheets. One was another cartoon, unsigned, depicting him and Dan in rainbow attire, makeup, and high heels. Dan carried a rainbow flag, but Gary’s was pink on the top and royal blue on the bottom, with an overlapping purple stripe in the middle, and they were leading a parade.
“This one was stuck to the door,” Dan told him.
He frowned. “I recognize the rainbow one, but what kind of flag is this?”
“That’s the bisexual pride flag.”
Gary bit his lip. “I suppose I should be flattered they bothered to get it right.” He smirked. “And I could never walk in those heels. I’d break my leg.” Then he realized Dan was still tense. “Either you’re taking this way too seriously, or I’m missing something here.”
In silence, Dan laid aside the cartoon, and Gary caught his breath. Written across another page in red lettering were two lines.
Has Gary stocked up on AIDS meds yet?
