Page 34 of All He Takes
He pulled into a largely-empty parking lot. He got out of his car, smiling, and then walked around to the back seat, where his model was still lying. He pulled his mask down over his face, so he didn't need to worry about being recognized.
"Come on, my dear," he said, pulling the woman's body out of the back seat.
He tossed her over his shoulder and looked around. It was late in town, no people around. This special shop was located on the outskirts of town, making it the perfect place to leave her, as there was no one around at this time, not even a dog walker.
The shop had long been closed. He looked up at the name of it and smiled. It was perfect! This would really leave his mark.
He went up the steps leading up to the store, then lay the girl down on the steps, letting her fall naturally into position. Yes, yes, that would do. There was no need to hide now.
He looked at her lying there, dressed in her red dress, her hair splayed out around her head.
"You will be one of my many masterpieces," he said. "The world will remember you, my dear. I promise you that."
He leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
"I promise you that."
He stood up and pulled out his camera, then started taking pictures.
She did look lovely like that, lying there on the steps, dressed in red.
He raised the camera to his face, smiling, and took pictures. Then, he removed one of the Polaroids from their earlier shoot. He went up to the doors of the shop and, wearing gloves so there'd be no mark of him left behind, he taped it to the door.
"You will be remembered, my dear," he said. "You will be remembered forever. And so will I. When they see you... they'll really be seeing me."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
At the Pine Grove police station, Nicky and Ken sat across from a sad-looking Charles Dumond--whose real name was, of course, Richard Fanson. As suspicious as he was looking, Nicky couldn't help but feel bad for the old man slumped in the seat across from them, who had obviously been triggered by the entire situation.
Nicky's theory was that he realized they were onto him and snapped. But they couldn't, for sure, pin the murders on him. Not yet.
In a strange way... Nicky found herself hoping it wasn't him. That he was just an ill old man who ran away from a bad life in another place, then came here to start fresh. When talking to policemen, Nicky learned that the townspeople loved Mr. Dumond. It would be a tragedy to learn he was actually a murderer.
But at the same time, Nicky couldn't deny the evidence. The wallpaper. The lying about his identity. It was all pointing to him...
And so, they had to interrogate him.
"Mr. Dumond," Nicky said, "or should I say... Richard Fanson."
He looked up at her, shock in his bulging eyes. "No... I haven't heard that name in so long..."
"It's your real name," Ken said. "Your name is Richard Fanson from Brooklyn, New York."
"No... I'm Charles Dumond from Pine Grove... I've lived here my whole life..."
Nicky's heart twisted. Did he really believe that? Was he really so delusional that he thought he'd lived in this little town his entire life? Or was this all just an elaborate ruse—a man using mental health to shield him from the danger of being caught?
They were going to have to be careful with this one. They couldn't interrogate him or accuse him like they could any other perp. They needed to be more tactful, because he did, on file, have a diagnosed illness. Whether he was lying about it now to cover up would come to light, but Nicky had to handle him with care until then.
So, Nicky started with something lighter. She took out photos of the two victims, Paris and Francine. The third had not been ID'd yet. These were pictures of the girls, alive and well. She slid them across the table to Mr. Dumond.
"Do you know these girls, Mr. Dumond?" Nicky asked.
"No... I've never seen them before."
"Are you sure?" Ken asked, leaning forward. "Look very closely. You don't recognize them at all?"
He was baffled. "No! What is this about? Why did you take me from my shop?"
