Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [67]
Jodi was going to be more difficult. He didn’t dare leave her where he’d first met her, but he had a couple of ideas that might work.
Getting into her apartment was easy enough—he’d unlocked Jodi’s bedroom window the day before when he’d planted the webcam.
At first he was scared—Jodi wasn’t in her bed. He listened, fearing the drugs hadn’t worked, that Abby and Jodi were awake and would scream as soon as they saw him. He listened carefully. In the apartment upstairs the drone of a late-night talk show. In the far distance, a siren. He listened until the siren stopped.
Nothing in the apartment stirred.
The kitchen light was on, casting an odd glow over the living room, which had only a dim, solitary lamp in the corner. Jodi was sleeping on the couch, her arm hanging over, her hair in her face.
Out cold.
Abby was in the chair, her head back, spittle dribbling out the corner of her open mouth.
He crossed the living room, unhooked the chain on the front door, and carefully opened the deadbolt. Neither girl stirred.
This was the dangerous part, but just like when he took Becca from the library parking lot, he felt an odd, rumbling thrill deep inside. He couldn’t help but think he was smarter than most everyone out there. He’d broken into the apartment yesterday morning and no one had noticed. He’d drugged their drinks and they drank without thinking anything was strange.
There was no doubt in his mind that he could take Jodi and leave the apartment without being seen.
He picked her up and she gave a slight moan. He froze, watched her face, glanced at Abby. No movement. Good. With Jodi in his arms, he left the apartment as quickly as possible.
To his left, he heard a group of young men coming up the the street toward the apartment building. He was parked in the rear, in a vacant carport, and he now quickly turned to the right, going around the building. It was late and a weeknight, but being a building dominated by college students, there were a lot of lights still on.
But most of the blinds were drawn.
It took him forty-two seconds to get from Jodi’s apartment to his car. He popped the trunk and put her in. He wanted to tie her hands, but heard the men laughing, getting closer. Where were they going?
He slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out—slowly, so as not to draw suspicion. While he didn’t see the noisy group, he knew it had been close.
He breathed easier once he got home and saw that Jodi was still unconscious in his trunk. His neighborhood was quieter than Jodi’s, all houses pitch-black except for the old woman who lived on the corner. Her lights were always on; he wondered if she ever slept.
Jodi stirred when he carried her through the back door, down the hall, and into his bedroom.
“Where . . . ” she began, her mouth thick. She didn’t open her eyes and her head rolled back.
He put her on the bed and took off her clothes, then tied her wrists to the headboard. She squirmed again, opened her eyes, confused and disoriented.
“Stop, what are you doing?” She tried to sit up, realized she couldn’t, and opened her mouth wide.
She was going to scream.
He clamped her mouth shut with his hand. Her legs bucked and kicked; he hadn’t tied them down yet.
He gagged her, but she was still too loud. He didn’t think anyone could hear, but he couldn’t be certain. She kicked him in the chest as he tried to grab one of her ankles. He slapped her across the face.
“Don’t,” he commanded.
She didn’t listen, fighting and trying to scream. But he was stronger. After some effort, he was able to restrain her. She fought against the binds, but they didn’t budge. He panted heavily, catching his breath.
He had wanted time alone with just her body, without her pleas, without her lies. Just her beautiful, exquisite body. She’d ruined it by waking up too soon. It wasn’t fair.
His fingers moved down her breast, delicately brushed