stomach anymore. My memory flashed to the nail from the finger that floated around in the jar at the restaurant. It had been coated with a shade of hot pink nail polish that sparkled with flecks of silver glitter. I’d seen it before many times. I squeezed both hands over my mouth, but it didn’t matter. I knew I’d never make it to the bathroom in time.
CHAPTER 14
Sam Reids sat at his desk in front of his computer on his newly acquired 17th century George II armchair. It was an expensive piece, and he’d shelled out almost a million dollars for it, but from the moment he’d laid eyes on it when it went up on the auction block, he knew he needed to have it in his collection.
Sam gazed at the picture of Sloane Monroe that was plastered across the entire width of his computer monitor. It wasn’t long before he started to reminisce about the day he first saw her. He’d been on his way to the store to procure a few groceries. When he stopped at the traffic light, he happened to glance over, and there she was. It was like she’d risen from the dead, and he had to do a double take to make sure his eyes hadn’t played some kind of cruel trick on him. It couldn’t have been her, and he knew that. He’d killed her over a year before. But it if wasn’t Gabrielle Monroe, who was she, he’d thought to himself. Sam had an insatiable desire to find out, so when he returned home that night he searched the internet, and it didn’t take long for him to find some answers. Gabrielle Monroe had a sister, and not just any sister—a twin named Sloane. It was all too delicious to take in, and he fantasized over what it would be like to be one of the only serial killers in history to murder twins. Killing Sloane would be like murdering Gabrielle all over again. Just the thought of it caused the hair on his arm to stand on end.
Sam had kept a close eye on Sloane over the past two years, and he’d come to know her habits. He knew she visited her sister’s grave on special occasions, her favorite place to eat, and even which color she wore the most. Keeping tabs on her while she worked intoxicated him. Her ability to snare the bad guy or find a missing person was impressive, and he admitted to himself after a time that she’d become somewhat of an obsession to him. No woman had ever incited the feelings she did. His insides burned like hot oil simmering in a pan every time he thought of her, and that’s why he needed her. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever craved before, but he’d have to wait for now. Sloane was special, which was why he would save her for last, and then everything would be different.
The clock on the right side of Sam’s computer displayed 7:29 PM. It was almost time. He closed his eyes and locked his fingers together behind his head and reclined back in his chair. He imagined the rest of the night’s events and played them over and over in his head with an exact notion of how they were to be. It was like he was the conductor of a fine orchestra, and he couldn’t wait.
***
Twenty minutes later Sam trolled the area by the supermarket where he’d discarded his last victim. He howled with laughter when he drove past the parking lot and observed a couple police officers dressed in plain clothes trying to blend in with the pedestrians that flowed in and out of the store. They’re all so stupid, he thought to himself. He never killed in the same location twice. He knew it, and so did they. And yet there they were, grasping at straws like puppets on a string.
Sam drove further down the street and through the city until he reached his destination, the local park. It was uncharted territory, and he’d never abducted anyone in a place like that before, but he’d been there several times over the past few months and was confident in his decision.
The park was quiet, just like he knew it would be. For whatever reason, Thursdays were always like this. There were no games going on, few
CHAPTER 14
Sam Reids sat at his desk in front of his computer on his newly acquired 17th century George II armchair. It was an expensive piece, and he’d shelled out almost a million dollars for it, but from the moment he’d laid eyes on it when it went up on the auction block, he knew he needed to have it in his collection.
Sam gazed at the picture of Sloane Monroe that was plastered across the entire width of his computer monitor. It wasn’t long before he started to reminisce about the day he first saw her. He’d been on his way to the store to procure a few groceries. When he stopped at the traffic light, he happened to glance over, and there she was. It was like she’d risen from the dead, and he had to do a double take to make sure his eyes hadn’t played some kind of cruel trick on him. It couldn’t have been her, and he knew that. He’d killed her over a year before. But it if wasn’t Gabrielle Monroe, who was she, he’d thought to himself. Sam had an insatiable desire to find out, so when he returned home that night he searched the internet, and it didn’t take long for him to find some answers. Gabrielle Monroe had a sister, and not just any sister—a twin named Sloane. It was all too delicious to take in, and he fantasized over what it would be like to be one of the only serial killers in history to murder twins. Killing Sloane would be like murdering Gabrielle all over again. Just the thought of it caused the hair on his arm to stand on end.
Sam had kept a close eye on Sloane over the past two years, and he’d come to know her habits. He knew she visited her sister’s grave on special occasions, her favorite place to eat, and even which color she wore the most. Keeping tabs on her while she worked intoxicated him. Her ability to snare the bad guy or find a missing person was impressive, and he admitted to himself after a time that she’d become somewhat of an obsession to him. No woman had ever incited the feelings she did. His insides burned like hot oil simmering in a pan every time he thought of her, and that’s why he needed her. He wanted her more than anything he’d ever craved before, but he’d have to wait for now. Sloane was special, which was why he would save her for last, and then everything would be different.
The clock on the right side of Sam’s computer displayed 7:29 PM. It was almost time. He closed his eyes and locked his fingers together behind his head and reclined back in his chair. He imagined the rest of the night’s events and played them over and over in his head with an exact notion of how they were to be. It was like he was the conductor of a fine orchestra, and he couldn’t wait.
***
Twenty minutes later Sam trolled the area by the supermarket where he’d discarded his last victim. He howled with laughter when he drove past the parking lot and observed a couple police officers dressed in plain clothes trying to blend in with the pedestrians that flowed in and out of the store. They’re all so stupid, he thought to himself. He never killed in the same location twice. He knew it, and so did they. And yet there they were, grasping at straws like puppets on a string.
Sam drove further down the street and through the city until he reached his destination, the local park. It was uncharted territory, and he’d never abducted anyone in a place like that before, but he’d been there several times over the past few months and was confident in his decision.
The park was quiet, just like he knew it would be. For whatever reason, Thursdays were always like this. There were no games going on, few
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