just stared right at her. As she reached for the electronic button to roll up the window, Judd said, “If you’ll give me thirty minutes, I’ll clean up before we head out for Kentucky.”
Lindsay realized that somewhere buried deep inside him, Judd still felt something. Even if it were nothing more than an undying thirst for revenge, that was an emotion, wasn’t it?
“All right. You go ahead. I’ll phone Griff, get an update, and tell him we’re on our way.”
Ruddy was beginning to worry. He had neither read nor heard anything new about the murder in Williamstown, Kentucky— not in local or national press coverage. A few hours after the paramedics arrived on the scene, a spokesman for the Williamstown Police Department had issued a statement that a young woman, a former Miss USA named Gale Ann Cain, had been brutally attacked and her body discovered by her sister, who had immediately called 911. That had been over forty-eight hours ago. Why hadn’t the local law enforce ment called in the FBI? Surely they knew that Gale Ann’s death could be attributed to the Beauty Queen Killer. Wasn’t his signature all over the murder scene? The victim had once won a beauty contest. Her talent in the contest had been lyrical dance, so he had cut off her feet. She was a redhead, so he had left behind a yellow rose. He had used the same nylon rope to bind her hands as he always used. Were the local yokels too stupid to recognize the work of a genius?
Many criminals returned to the scene of their crime. Not Ruddy. He was far too smart to do something so stupid. But unless he could somehow find out what was going on in the Gale Ann Cain murder case, he might have no choice but to make a trip back to Williamstown. He could always come up with some legitimate reason to visit. To purchase a horse. To visit an antique mall where he would buy something outrageously expensive. Or he could simply be driving through on his way to somewhere else. Or he could simply wear a disguise and use a fake ID.
He had tried his best to dismiss a disturbing thought, one that had plagued him since the evening he had killed Gale Ann. Just as he was leaving the apartment building using the stairs, he had noticed that a woman in a wheelchair was entering through the front door. Had she seen him? Probably not. After all, she’d been concentrating on maneuvering her wheelchair so that she could hold the door open long enough to move inside.
But what if she did see me?
So, what if she had seen him? What exactly had she seen? A man in a trench coat, hat, and sunglasses. It wasn’t as if she’d seen his face and could identify him. And the clothing he wore that night had been properly disposed of, burned in the old furnace in the basement. The items he wore when he executed a game plan were inexpensive, off-the-rack items that he picked up at various chain stores. He wasn’t fool enough actually to wear many of his personal tailor-made clothing or speciality items.
If only he knew what was going on, exactly how the Williams town police were handling Gale Ann’s case, he would sleep better tonight.
Ruddy removed a key from his pocket, bent over, and unlocked the bottom desk drawer where he kept a supply of disposable paid-in-advance phones. He slipped one of the phones into his jacket, locked the drawer, and pocketed the key.
He would take the Bentley out this afternoon and go for a nice long drive. Maybe a few counties over. He’d contact the Williamstown police, the newspaper, and TV station and inquire about Gale Ann’s murder. If he couldn’t find out anything, he’d have no choice but to rent a car, using an assumed name and fake ID and drive to Williamstown to personally check on the situation.
“I’m a distant cousin and haven’t been able to reach anyone in the family.” That’s what he’d say. Now, what was Gale Ann’s maiden name? He always did research on his victims, learning as much as possible about them before he
Lindsay realized that somewhere buried deep inside him, Judd still felt something. Even if it were nothing more than an undying thirst for revenge, that was an emotion, wasn’t it?
“All right. You go ahead. I’ll phone Griff, get an update, and tell him we’re on our way.”
Ruddy was beginning to worry. He had neither read nor heard anything new about the murder in Williamstown, Kentucky— not in local or national press coverage. A few hours after the paramedics arrived on the scene, a spokesman for the Williamstown Police Department had issued a statement that a young woman, a former Miss USA named Gale Ann Cain, had been brutally attacked and her body discovered by her sister, who had immediately called 911. That had been over forty-eight hours ago. Why hadn’t the local law enforce ment called in the FBI? Surely they knew that Gale Ann’s death could be attributed to the Beauty Queen Killer. Wasn’t his signature all over the murder scene? The victim had once won a beauty contest. Her talent in the contest had been lyrical dance, so he had cut off her feet. She was a redhead, so he had left behind a yellow rose. He had used the same nylon rope to bind her hands as he always used. Were the local yokels too stupid to recognize the work of a genius?
Many criminals returned to the scene of their crime. Not Ruddy. He was far too smart to do something so stupid. But unless he could somehow find out what was going on in the Gale Ann Cain murder case, he might have no choice but to make a trip back to Williamstown. He could always come up with some legitimate reason to visit. To purchase a horse. To visit an antique mall where he would buy something outrageously expensive. Or he could simply be driving through on his way to somewhere else. Or he could simply wear a disguise and use a fake ID.
He had tried his best to dismiss a disturbing thought, one that had plagued him since the evening he had killed Gale Ann. Just as he was leaving the apartment building using the stairs, he had noticed that a woman in a wheelchair was entering through the front door. Had she seen him? Probably not. After all, she’d been concentrating on maneuvering her wheelchair so that she could hold the door open long enough to move inside.
But what if she did see me?
So, what if she had seen him? What exactly had she seen? A man in a trench coat, hat, and sunglasses. It wasn’t as if she’d seen his face and could identify him. And the clothing he wore that night had been properly disposed of, burned in the old furnace in the basement. The items he wore when he executed a game plan were inexpensive, off-the-rack items that he picked up at various chain stores. He wasn’t fool enough actually to wear many of his personal tailor-made clothing or speciality items.
If only he knew what was going on, exactly how the Williams town police were handling Gale Ann’s case, he would sleep better tonight.
Ruddy removed a key from his pocket, bent over, and unlocked the bottom desk drawer where he kept a supply of disposable paid-in-advance phones. He slipped one of the phones into his jacket, locked the drawer, and pocketed the key.
He would take the Bentley out this afternoon and go for a nice long drive. Maybe a few counties over. He’d contact the Williamstown police, the newspaper, and TV station and inquire about Gale Ann’s murder. If he couldn’t find out anything, he’d have no choice but to rent a car, using an assumed name and fake ID and drive to Williamstown to personally check on the situation.
“I’m a distant cousin and haven’t been able to reach anyone in the family.” That’s what he’d say. Now, what was Gale Ann’s maiden name? He always did research on his victims, learning as much as possible about them before he
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