Already Too Late

10

The illumination from the investigator’s flashlight caused shadows in her curls, valleys in her shoulder blades. “It’s a shame. Pretty girl.”

The coroner nodded. “Grab my high-powered lamps from the van and switch them on, would you? I’m not going to bag her up in the dark.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t forget to scrape the fingernails, okay?”

“Right.”

9

Wiping vomit from his mouth, the rookie cop shook in the clammy air. His partner patted him on the back and handed him a bottle of water. “It’s okay, kid. You chill out in the car, and I’ll radio it in.”

He shook his head as he spoke into the walkie-talkie.

8

Joe, King of the Streets, sulked as he waited for the cops to come. She was in his spot.

7

He tucked her into the niche under the bridge. With any luck, they wouldn’t find her for weeks.

6

With the detachable hose, he misted her whole body, cleaning off every trace of blood from her delicate form. Then, taking a soft towel, he patted her down. He briefly considered cutting her toenails, but remembered that he didn’t want any part of her left in his house. What if he missed one while cleaning up?

Instead, he contented himself with a luxuriant half-hour spent brushing her hair, then another hour picking out new clothes for her and easing them on. Pulling the shirt over her shoulders excited him again, but he controlled his urges.

5

Smiling, he looked into her eyes. She scrabbled at his hands, frantic, but he was too powerful for her. He loved the way their bodies arched and jumped when he strangled them. His tongue felt thick with pleasure.

4.

She walked with him to his front door, only swaying a little bit. “Thank you so much for letting me come in to clear my head,” she said. “I could use a cup of coffee to chase the last of the alcohol out of my system. Then I’ll get a ride back to my car and be out of your way.” She touched his shoulder and smiled. “I had a great time.”

3.

“Ooh, I think I’ve had one too many,” she grinned, signaling for a glass of water. “Oh well, it is Friday, and I think I’m owed a fun night, don’t you?”

Sipping his martini, he agreed. “Care to dance?”

2.

Watching her tank top slip off her shoulder, allowing her curls to caress her soft skin, he made up his mind. He pushed away from his swivel chair and walked to her cubicle. “Hey. Would you, uh, maybe go out for drinks with me tonight?”

Taking off her headset, she smiled up at him. “I’d love to. Right after our shift?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll drive.”

1.

“Jenny, put down the phone for a minute and meet the newest member of our team.” The man, who fancied himself more beloved by his employees than he actually was, stepped away from between them. “This is James Stanhope.”

She reached her hand out to shake. “Ready to be a telemarketer, the only people hated more than Hitler?” she asked, laughing.

“Come now, Jenny, it’s not as bad as all that.”

James stared, that familiar electric feeling rising in his brain. She had red hair. Curls. He was already lost.