Freak by Jennifer Hillier

They’re cheap and impossible to trace.”
    “And the knife?” Sheila said. “Was the same one used to carve both women?”
    “Someone’s been watching CSI .” Jerry gave her a wan smile. “It’s not definitive, but it appears that the same knife was used in both murders, something longish, sharp, and smooth. The carving was likely done postmortem.” He paused. “The number on the first vic was never released to the media. At first they thought the one-slash-ten corresponded to a date of some sort. But with this next vic—”
    It hit Sheila then.
    “He’s counting them.” Horrified, she tried to wrap her mind around it. “One out of ten. Two out of ten.”
    “Yes.”
    “And they think there might be eight more victims?”
    “They do, yes. And so I have to talk to Maddox today. At the prison. Find out what she knows.” Jerry glanced at his watch again. “I’m late.”
    Sheila blinked. “That’s funny, I think I misheard you. I could have sworn you just said you were going to talk to Abby Maddox today.”
    Jerry gave her a look.
    “Give me a break!” Sheila felt her face grow hot. “Tell them to go to hell! Why would you—”
    “It was either me or you. Maddox has been asking to speak with you for the past few months.”
    Sheila sat up. “And why wasn’t I informed of that?”
    “They didn’t want to upset you. You’ve been through enough.”
    “That’s not for anyone to decide but me.” Aggravated, Sheila pushed her chair out from the table and stood up. “You should have told me, Jerry.”
    “I only just found out myself.”
    Sheila started pacing the floor. “Why does she want to talk to me?”
    “I don’t know,” Jerry said. “I feel like it’s a ploy. But whatever she knows, she won’t reveal it to the cops. She’ll only speak to you. I’m hoping she’ll settle for me instead. If she knows anything about what happened to that poor girl this morning . . .” His voice trailed off.
    Sheila turned around to face him, and saw him tugging at the collar of his turtleneck again. He saw her watching and stuck his hand back in his lap.
    “And you agreed to go?”
    “Yeah. And I didn’t want you to hear about it from anyone else but me.” He sighed deeply. “Those bodies, they change everything. She’s made it clear through her lawyer that she might know something about the murders. At least, that’s the way she and her attorney are playing it.”
    “I’m going with you. If she’s asking for me, then I need to see her.”
    Jerry looked horrified. “Oh, hell no. And I’ll give you three good reasons.” He leaned forward. “First, I don’t trust the bitch. She’s playing games, and you don’t need to be subjected to her bullshit, not after everything you’ve been through. And second—and this is an even better reason—Morris will kill me if I let you anywhere near her.”
    “Don’t be silly,” Sheila said, although she couldn’t necessarily be certain that Morris wouldn’t at least knock Jerry on his ass. “I’ll tell him tonight when he gets home that I went to see her. I don’t even have to bring you into it, really. What’s the third reason?”
    “The postcards.”
    Sheila fell silent, remembering. A year ago, while Abby Maddox was on the run from the police, she had sent Sheila postcards, taunting her. It was how they’d tracked her. It was how she’d gotten caught.
    “I’m not worried,” Sheila said. “I can handle her.”
    “She’s got a bone to pick with you,” Jerry said. “And I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable with that.”
    “It’s not up to you. Or Morris, for that matter.” Sheila stood over him and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not scared of her, Jerry. Toward the end, I wasn’t even scared of Ethan, really.”
    “Let me repeat. Morris will kill me.” Jerry enunciated every word. “He won’t like this, Sheila. Not one bit.”
    “Let me repeat. It’s not up to him. If Abby’s been asking to see me, then of