Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [318]
In a matter of minutes, he was at the window. She saw his shadow hovering, a black vulture. Then his face was at the glass, startling her and almost making her jump. Don’t move. Don’t flinch. Stay calm. Steady. Yet the terror hammered away at her, raw and unyielding to any of her mental commands. A slight tremor threatened her aim. She knew she was safe in the dark corner. Besides, he would be looking at the curled-up bundle of pillows he would mistake for his sleeping victim.
Would he be surprised that she had gotten so good at his game? Would he be disappointed that she could predict his moves? Certainly he wouldn’t expect that they had already discovered the second body to not be his. He must have realized they would and soon, because he was wasting no time coming after his ultimate victim, his ultimate blow to his nemesis. This would be his grand finale, his final scar to leave Maggie with before the diabetes left him completely blind.
She tightened her grip. Instead of the terror, she concentrated on the faces of his victims, the litany of names, now adding Jessica, Rita and Rachel to the list. How dare he make her an accomplice to his evil. She let the anger seep into her veins, hoping it would replace the crawly feeling that invaded her insides.
He eased the window up, gently, quietly, and before he stepped into the room, she could smell him, the scent of smoke and sweat. She waited until he got to the edge of the bed. She waited for him to draw the scalpel from his boot.
“You won’t be needing that,” she said calmly, not moving a muscle.
He spun around, holding the scalpel. With his free hand he stripped off the bedcovers, then grabbed for the lamp on the nightstand. The yellow glow filled the room, and when he turned toward her, she thought she saw a flash of surprise in his colorless eyes. He quickly composed himself, standing straight and tall, replacing the surprise with one of his twisted smiles.
“Why, Maggie O’Dell. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Gwen isn’t here. In fact, she’s back at my house. I hope you don’t mind me taking her place?” Stucky hadn’t dared come for her. That would have been too easy. Just like in that Miami warehouse eight months ago. It would have been easier to kill her. Instead, he left her with a scar, a constant reminder of him. So this time, why wouldn’t he do it again? No, Stucky didn’t intend to kill her. He simply wanted to destroy her. It would be his ultimate blow, to hurt a woman Maggie knew, one she cared about and loved.
“You’re good at our little game.” He seemed pleased.
Without warning, she squeezed the trigger, and his hand flew back, the scalpel clinking to the floor. He stared at his bloodied hand. His eyes met hers. This time she saw more than alarm. Was that the beginning of fear?
“How does it feel?” she asked, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “How does it feel to have me beating you at your own game?”
There was that smile again, a cocky smirk that she wanted to shoot off his face.
“No, I should be asking you, Maggie. How does it feel to play at my game?”
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She could do this. She would not let him win. Not this time.
“It’s over,” she managed to say. Could he see her hand tremble?
“You like seeing me bleeding. Admit it.” He raised his hand to show her the blood dripping down his sleeve. “It’s a powerful feeling, isn’t it, Maggie?”
“Is it a powerful feeling to kill your best friend, Stucky? Is that why you did it?”
She thought she saw him grimace. Maybe she had finally found his Achilles’ heel.
“Why did you do it? Why did you kill the one man, the only person who could stomach being your friend?”
“He had something I needed. Something I couldn’t get anywhere else,” he said, holding up his chin and looking away from the light.
“What could a blind Walker Harding possibly have that was worth killing him for?”
“You’re a smart lady. You already know the answer to that. His identity. I needed to become him.” Now he laughed and squinted.
Maggie watched his eyes. The light was bothering