gaze scanned the road and surroundings. No police cars or cabs. He didn’t worry about cameras. He knew exactly where they were located, and he’d paid well to disable those on his preferred route. He’d seen to the necessary detail the first time he’d used the Shiny Penny Bar as one of his selection zones. Tonight, all the vehicles were dark. No witnesses. He was safe.
She placed her hand on his leg. “Where are we going?”
“A midnight drive.”
“How about a little preview?” She ran her fingers high on his thigh and sent him a flirtatious glance.
He gripped her arm to stop her from exploring too soon. “Not yet, sweetheart. I have big plans for you.”
By the time they reached an elaborate garden park, Burke’s heart pounded with anticipation. He pulled onto a side street and grabbed the prepacked supply kit from behind his seat. He held out his hand to her. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”
He pulled her close, his arm pressing her rail-thin body against his. He led her to a locked gate and shimmied through the rails.
She grinned and slipped through after him. “You’re so bad.”
“I haven’t even begun.”
He wound his way through the English-style hedges to a small wall of trees. He pushed a branch aside. “After you, my dear.”
She ducked through the lush oaks. He followed. They were enclosed in a small clearing, hidden from prying eyes.
“We’re alone.” She smiled and leaned against him, crushing her breasts into his chest.
“All alone,” he whispered quietly, staring down at her, studying his choice.
The moon shone down from the break in the treetops. The gleaming light made her skin appear smooth and ageless, blurring her face so he could ignore the discrepancies with the woman who haunted his dreams.
Perhaps this one would quash the hunger inside of him.
He stroked her cheek with his thumb, across to the cleft in her chin. His heart kicked up a notch. The flaw proved she wasn’t his dream lover. She wasn’t even Faith.
His pulse raced, his breathing quickened. He should’ve been disappointed, but he wasn’t. His body hardened with excitement of what was to come.
“What are you waiting for?” she whispered, nestling closer, grinding her hips against his.
“Almost,” he whispered. He removed a plastic-lined sheet from his bag and spread it out, before guiding her a few steps to its center. His body tingled. “It’s time.”
She reached down to his zipper. He slapped her hands away, grabbed her hair and yanked, forcing her to look into his eyes.
She clutched at his hands. “Ow! What are you doing?”
With a smile, he tugged harder. Her eyes blurred with tears before the true nature of her predicament dawned on her less-than-Mensa intellect.
Burke smiled when fear, then panic widened her eyes.
He pulled a knife from the sheath at the small of his back and whipped the blade around. With joyful precision, he sliced long and deep across her throat. She clutched at her neck, but he knew his business. He’d studied. Diligently. For years.
She was dead in seconds.
Her body dropped to the ground. Her eyes stared sightless at the moon. He looked down at her and sighed. The cut had been deadly accurate, but life always left too soon. The efficient kill was a necessary sacrifice. He couldn’t afford for her to resist too much. Scratching and fighting might result in evidence, something he refused to tolerate.
Burke knelt and tugged over his supply kit. He’d been looking forward to this one. The Eyeball Killer had fascinated him since the man’s first mention during Burke’s research.
He laid out his tools and studied her face. Green eyes were the rarest in the world. They would be a nice addition to his collection. He would have liked to collect brown, gray and blue, and maybe even hazel, as well. Too bad his discipline only allowed him the one opportunity to copy a unique modus operandi.
Discipline and preparation. That was what made him successful. And uncatchable. Regardless of his father’s concerns.
Burke pushed her hair aside. Clutching the knife oh so slowly, he pressed the blade at the corner of one of her beautiful, blank and lifeless eyes.
Everything up to this moment had been foreplay.
Now for the main event.
THE MORNING LIGHT broke through the space between the kitchen curtains.
“Can I take the tablet Daddy gave me to school?” Zoe ran into the room at full speed and skidded to a stop in front of her mother, a huge smile on her face.
Faith folded the legal-sized paper and returned the custody agreement to the envelope for the umpteenth time. She rubbed the bridge of her nose to ease the building headache. She couldn’t believe Burke had filed for full custody.
Undeniable proof she’d been a first-class fool. How many years had she believed she’d married Prince Charming, that he’d swept her out of the Shiny Penny, where she’d barely made enough to pay rent, and into a fairy tale? The only good to come of her marriage with Burke was her daughter. And the lesson Faith’s mother had tried to teach her—never rely on anyone but yourself.
With a sigh, she gulped another swallow of coffee. She’d left Zoe with her neighbor half of Friday night hoping to find Burke, praying to talk some sense into him.
She’d finally located him near the bar where they’d first met, but not before he’d hooked up with another woman. Must’ve been some night, because he’d been incommunicado ever since.
Not that she cared. She’d stopped loving him long ago, but Zoe’s well-being was at stake. Zoe irritated him more than anything. She couldn’t imagine him taking care of her every day, seven days a week. He wanted a perfect china doll for a daughter. A child he could show off and then shoo away. Zoe would never be that. Faith’s daughter was a tomboy through and through. She was messy, eager and independent. And definitely not a wallflower. Faith loved every inch of her.
She slid the rubber band off the morning paper. She’d have to fight the Thomas family machine to keep her daughter. To do that, Faith needed a job with more regular hours than her diner gig.
Intent on searching the classifieds, she spread the paper out. Below the fold on the front page, a photo screamed out. A familiar-looking blond-haired woman smiled at her. The caption chilled Faith’s soul.
“Local Woman Murdered. No Suspects.”
Quickly, Faith scanned the story and stopped at a single paragraph. Mandy Jones’s time of death was estimated between seven and ten.
Faith dropped the paper on the kitchen table, her body frozen in shock and disbelief. Faith had seen Mandy that night. She couldn’t make herself believe this was possible, and yet, she knew what she’d witnessed.
