Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [61]
“Actually, we need you to be there,” Carina said. “Will talked to Chief Causey earlier today and he wants to meet you and get a copy of your credentials.”
“Sure,” Nick said, sounding cautious. “Is there a problem?”
“No, but since the press has started making calls, Causey wants to make sure all is are dotted and ts crossed. I’m also making another push for a task force, using Dillon’s informal profile to back it up.”
“Because he’s going to kill again.”
“Seems likely. But maybe if we get the manpower we need we can stop him before he becomes the textbook definition of a serial killer.”
Soundlessly, she cried as he washed her body.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you like that,” he told Becca as he washed the streaks of blood from between her legs. The water was tepid, neither hot nor cold, but her body trembled, making the water ripple.
He stroked her hair, kissed her cheek, ran a hand over her breasts. Scrubbed her body with a rag and soap, lots of soap. Rinsed her well.
“You were very good. Not like the whore. You were sweet and fresh and new. All for me.” When he’d penetrated her the first time he’d realized she was a virgin. He’d come instantly, the knowledge that he’d be the first and the last man to have her providing such intense excitement he didn’t want to hold back.
She strained against the gag. “Don’t do that. You’ll make it hurt more. You can’t tell anyone what happened.”
She shook her head back and forth, her eyes wide. She tried to say something, guttural sounds rumbling in her throat. He didn’t understand her, but he didn’t have to. She’d just lie to him. All women, even beautiful virgins like Becca, lie. She’d say she wouldn’t tell, but the first thing she would do is go to the police and tell them who he was.
Obviously, he couldn’t allow that to happen.
He washed her hair and poured water over her head. She breathed heavily, tears running from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, it has to be done.” He motioned for her to get up. “Walk back to the bed,” he told her.
Her entire body shook, water dripping off her to the floor. He walked behind her with a towel, one he bought just for her. Brand-new, never been used.
Suddenly, she ran for the door.
“No!” He took three long strides, but she had the door open and ran down the hall.
He was faster. He caught her before she even touched the front door.
He threw her body down on the floor. Her head hit the coffee table and he saw blood on her scalp. He’d have to clean the table later.
She struggled as he picked her up and she scratched his neck. He held her tight, brought her back to his bed. She fought and cried as he tied her up, her hands above her head and her feet to the posts at the end of the bed.
His breathing was rapid, his face flushed with the exertion. And, if he thought about it, the excitement of chasing her. He’d been scared, very scared, for a minute, but he couldn’t ignore the rush when he caught her, subdued her, brought her back to his bed, and tied her up.
He looked at the hand that had scratched him. He couldn’t see anything under her nails, she had barely even broken his skin, but that didn’t mean something wasn’t there. He had to be careful. He took a sharp knife and cleaned under her fingernails. She bled. He then held her hand in a bowl of bleach. A guttural scream reverberated in her chest and he watched her vocal cords and the small, thin bones strain against her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but she had tried to escape.
He took the time to flush the bloody bleach down the toilet and carefully wash the bowl.
Then he returned to Becca, plastic wrap in hand.
He started at her feet. Slowly, carefully, wrapping Becca’s body.
First one leg. Then the other. Her butt, everything but her vagina. Her waist. Around and around. Her breasts. Then each arm. And to be safe, he wrapped her again.
His entire body quivered with excitement.
He looked in her eyes and saw fear.
“Good night, Becca.”
He rolled on a condom and pushed himself into her with one stroke. Her body jerked beneath