Silent Screams - C. E. Lawrence [39]
“Michigan State,” Diesel replied. “Magna cum laude.”
Lee guessed that Eddie knew both of them through Gamblers Anonymous, but he wasn’t about to ask. Eddie was very casual about the whole notion of his anonymity, and would tell anyone that he was attending meetings—whether they asked or not—but Lee didn’t want to compromise the privacy of Eddie’s friends.
“Look, isn’t there something we can do to help?” Eddie asked.
Lee looked around the bar, with its comfortable low lighting, the softly glowing yellow lamps casting shadows on the walls. The bar was filling up with theatergoers, all in a festive mood. It seemed odd, sitting here with Eddie and his two powerful-looking friends, that somewhere out there, a predator was ruthlessly stalking and carving up young women.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’ll think of something.”
Eddie winked. “These guys get around—know what I mean?”
Lee looked at the two companions. Rhino’s deep-set blue eyes were azure in the dim light, and his pale skin was a sharp contrast to Diesel’s richly hued coffee-colored skin. No doubt about it: singly, they were unusual looking. As a pair, they were striking.
“They used to be homeless,” Eddie continued, snapping a chip between his tobacco-stained fingers before popping it into his mouth. “Addicts, both of ’em. Hard to believe now, huh?”
Lee looked at the pair. With their well-muscled bodies and clear eyes, they looked like anything but addicts.
“Methamphetamines,” said Diesel. “My drug of choice, when I could get it. And Rhino was addicted to heroin.”
Rhino sipped at his soda and looked away.
“So not only do they have connections in the hospital nursing field,” Eddie said, “but they also know most of the guys who run the shelters around town—and most of the clients.”
“I don’t see how that can help us,” Lee replied.
Diesel leaned forward. “There is an underclass of people in this city who go places other people don’t, who see what other people miss. There are eyes and ears out there that the police have yet to fully appreciate.”
“Sort of like the Baker Street Irregulars in the Sherlock Holmes stories—right, Boss?” Eddie said.
Diesel took a sip of beer and wiped his mouth delicately. “We have access to those ears and eyes—what goes on in the dark of night when most people are looking the other way.”
“Methamphetamines and heroin, huh?” Lee said. “Those must have been hard ones to kick. Those are both really addictive.”
“You can accomplish anything,” Diesel said, “if you have the willpower and determination.”
Looking at the pair sitting across from him, Lee didn’t doubt that he was right. Then, against his own will, the words popped into his head: Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done. But he imagined that if the Slasher’s will prevailed, it would not be either as in earth or as in heaven, but as in hell.
Chapter Fifteen
Her breasts were small and round, the skin smooth and white as the inside of a clamshell. The nipples were marbled mother-of-pearl—like faded pink summer roses. He thought he would faint at the sight of them. His head grew light, and a tingling came to his forehead, even as his eyes drank in the sight of them greedily. He felt like a starving man who had been watching a feast through a window all his life, and now that he was here, the table of delicacies spread out before him, his stomach rebelled at the sight of such abundance. Her body was achingly beautiful—and still it was not his to touch, to caress, to possess. Her mouth, marred by lipstick, was a red slash in the middle of the perfect white skin of her face.
He watched her through the crack in the white lace curtains, as her body rose and fell with passion. He felt his own body swell in response. She was his neighbor’s daughter, and the space between their bedroom windows was so narrow that he felt as if he could reach out and touch her.
Samuel! Sam-u-el! You will burn in hell if you don’t stop that right now!
If only he could make it stop, the sound of his mother’s voice, harsh as a crow