Born to Die - Lisa Jackson [149]
CHAPTER 31
Calm down.
Pretend nothing’s wrong.
So the bitch went to Gerald? So what?
It was inevitable. As are the police.
And things are only going to get worse when they find the other one....
Glancing down at the screen of his GPS tracking system, he realized that Acacia had driven home from Gerald’s company in Missoula, which was exactly what he’d expected. And yet he couldn’t help but worry, his hands sweating in gloves, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he thought of everything that could go wrong.
He’d been so diligent....
He was on the move again. There was just so much to do, and time was his enemy.
He’d switched license plates on the truck, just in case, putting on the set of stolen Idaho plates.
His windshield wipers wiped off the snow as he thought about yesterday and how he’d surprised another one. She had been cross-country skiing on a trail that was one of her usual haunts. He’d had to wait several days in the empty parking lot, hoping she would appear.
Finally, yesterday, as he’d pretended to be checking his own equipment, the nose of her Honda had appeared. After she’d parked, she’d geared up and he’d offered a hand in greeting as she’d snapped on her skis and taken off.
He’d waited until she was around the bend and through a copse of pine before he’d taken off after her, his strides strong and swift. She was athletic, and he was surprised how long it had taken to catch up to her, but he’d kept her red jacket in his line of vision until she’d started up the incline that ran along the creek.
He’d accelerated then, pushing himself, feeling the cold wind permeate his ski mask as it rattled the trees.
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!
His skis skimmed over the thick powder.
He dug his poles into the soft snow with smooth, sure regularity and gained on her.
She was thirty feet ahead of him and gliding through the sparse stands, her skis smooth near the creek bank, the wires from her iPod now visible.
Twenty feet.
Up another short incline. Perfect.
He dug in, pushing harder.
Sweating.
Closing the distance between them.
Ten feet.
Behind his ski mask, he grinned. She hadn’t heard him, didn’t know he was following. So into her music and the beauty of the fresh snow in the wilderness, or some such crap, she skied innocently.
Unaware.
Closer still.
Now the tips of his skis were nearly touching the backs of hers. They were heading into a thicker grove, where birch and pine quivered with the wind. One gnarly pine, with a thick trunk and several broken branches, caught his eye.
Perfect!
As she curved around the bend in the creek, he pulled up beside her. They were skiing two abreast.
She caught a glimpse of him because, just as the tree with its broken branches loomed, she flinched. She turned her head, eyes round in fear, mouth pulled back to scream, as he shoved her.
Hard.
Into the rotting pine.
Now, as he remembered the horror on her face, the sickening sound of her body slamming into the bark, the thud of her head cracking against that jagged, protruding broken branch, he grinned again.
One less Unknowing walking the earth.
And now, he thought, bringing himself up to the minute, he would take care of the one he should have dealt with years before. His scar seemed to throb as the wipers swatted away the snow and some inane Christmas song rolled through the speakers.
“Three Kings, my ass,” he muttered, and he felt that little zing sizzle through his blood, that spark of anticipation, as he thought of what was to come.
Acacia.
God, he’d like to fuck her. Just to show her what he could do ... Then again, he’d settle for killing her. Watching her eyes widen in surprise when she recognized him, seeing her pupils dilate in terror, witnessing her understanding that he would snuff the life from her.
He felt his cock twitch and stiffen. With a moan, he let out his breath slowly, loosening his fingers as they gripped the wheel. He had to park out of sight again and snowshoe in, which was perfect, and the falling snow would make an excellent cover,