Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [80]
“Would you object to a detective from e-crimes coming down and checking the histories and hard drives of your public computers?”
Burns frowned. “I’ll have to clear it with the owner, but I don’t think it’s a problem. Can we do it after hours?”
Carina handed him Patrick’s card and wrote his direct number on it. “Call the detective and set it up.”
“Will it help?”
“At this point, we need to cover every base.” Carina turned to leave, then looked back at Burns. “By the way, have you ever been to the La Jolla Public Library?”
“Never. I always go to the library on campus. Anything else? I really need to get back to work.”
“We’d like to talk to your employees again. We can come by when it’s quieter, later this afternoon?”
“Fine. Anytime after two.”
They left and Nick asked her, “You suspect Burns?”
“I don’t know, I just thought it was a shot with the library.”
“He’s a little older than twenty, but Midge at the library wasn’t certain about the age. He has light brown hair and is about six feet tall.”
Carina said, “We ran all Shack employees, and other than one who was arrested for misdemeanor drug possession a year ago, they were all clean, including Burns. But I’ll put someone on it. Pull his DMV photo and show it to Midge.”
“It’s worth a shot,” Nick said.
He didn’t have a lot of time, just enough time to bathe her and finish her. He’d been dreaming about it all day. Still on the high from Becca, he expected to maintain it with Jodi.
The first thing he noticed was the smell. Putrid. She’d shit in the bed, just like that whore Angie. He’d punish her for that before killing her.
She was asleep, in the same position he’d left her in.
“Wake up, I need to clean you up.” He looked at her carefully. She appeared . . . odd. “Come on, don’t be that way.” He sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t move.
He slapped her hard and she didn’t wake up. Then he noticed something different about Jodi. Her skin was a strange color. Sort of blue. He slapped her again. Her flesh felt thick, pasty, cold.
What was wrong? What had happened?
He pulled back her eyelids. Her eyes had a weird glassy look to them. And he knew.
She was dead.
“No! NO! That’s not fair!”
He shook her, but her body felt hard, unreal. He punched her in the chest with both fists. “Stupid slut! How dare you die on me! It’s my choice, not yours! You bitch!”
He punched her again, and again, an unfamiliar rage building. He tried to control himself, but it was like he was watching from the outside, from high above, seeing himself hitting Jodi’s lifeless body.
Her eyes were half-open, looking at him through slit lashes. Did the dead see? No, that was his imagination, his mind playing tricks.
He’d come home, risked everything, to finish it. He only needed an hour. And she ruined it. How could she die on him? Before he was done with her? It wasn’t fair!
He was breathing fast, too fast.
Calm down. Think.
He turned away from her body, looked at his hands. The skin across his knuckles was red and broken. Had he hit her that hard? Why didn’t he remember?
Think.
He had to get rid of her. As soon as possible. But not stupidly, he couldn’t be stupid about it. He was smart, he could think this through.
He had planned on dropping her someplace near her apartment after work tonight. But he had to get rid of her now. The thought of her, dead, in his bed until tonight made him ill. She had died without anything to stop her body from spreading its sick germs and fluids all over his stuff. The smell was awful, her urine and shit. Seeping into his mattress.
Damn bitch. She stole what was rightfully his—her life!
He had to wash the body, but it was getting late. Did he chance dumping her without a proper cleansing?
No, no, that would be dumb. He had to do it.
Jodi was heavy and he struggled. Sweat poured from his body, dripped onto hers. He was panicking, he felt it, knew it, could do nothing about it.
He ran the water over her body and left the bathroom to collect his thoughts.
Sitting heavily in his chair, he looked around.