his left hand and shot her in the back of the head.
He let the body sag onto the floorboard. He threw a blanket over the dead woman and drove to Leffis Key. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the entrance path that ran back into the mangroves. He removed the woman’s body and placed it near the path, hidden by the undergrowth. He drove across the street and parked in the Coquina Beach parking lot. If the police saw the car, they’d probably find out that it was stolen, but by then Jeff would be long gone.
He used a towel to wipe down the car, cleaning every surface he’d touched. He wasn’t worried about cleaning up any blood. The cops could match DNA and determine that the whore had been killed in this car, but there was no way to connect him to the car. He pulled his backpack from the backseat, shrugged it onto his shoulders, and walked across the street and back to the body. He lifted it over his shoulder and walked down the path. He leaned her against the tree at the apex of the fork and placed her hands in her lap. He pulled a large cork and a small plastic case from the backpack. He opened the case and retrieved a large gauge needle attached to a syringe. He put the cork behind the left earlobe of the dead woman and pushed the needle through the flesh. He pulled another small case from the backpack and pulled out a silver whale tail earring and placed it in the hole he’d made in the earlobe. He bent her over at the waist, lifted her hair and used a small knife to carve three initials in the flesh of the back of her neck. He stripped her clothes off and propped her against the tree again, tied her there with rope from the backpack. He stood and surveyed his handiwork. It looked good. He rummaged around in the backpack until he found a high-resolution digital camera.
He was sweating now, but he was about done. He took several pictures of the woman, taking the chance that there was no one about to see the flash. He’d use the photographs later in the privacy of his bedroom tohelp win the release of the devils that built in him until he’d found another victim. He’d been taught well. He smiled, pulled the phone from his pocket and called Steiffel to come get him. He looked again at the dead woman, smiled, repacked his gear, and walked back to the parking lot that abutted the entrance to Leffis Key.
Steiffel arrived a few minutes later. They drove to the strip mall where Jeff had left his Mercedes. Steiffel followed him back to Longboat Key and to a beachfront condominium complex. Jeff parked his car and the two of them drove to a large house that fronted Anna Maria Sound just south of Palma Sola Bay where a large Fountain go-fast boat perched on a lift. Jeff had watched the place for two days and was pretty sure nobody was home. They parked in the back of the overflow lot of the Seafood Shack, a popular restaurant a few doors south of the house. The car was invisible from the street, hidden in the shadows thrown by the trees that bordered the back of the lot. It was after midnight and the restaurant was closed and dark.
Jeff sat in the car and watched Steiffel walk down the street and around to the back of the house. He powered up the electric lift motor and slowly lowered the boat into the water. When Jeff heard the boat coming toward him, idling, its engines burbling quietly, he walked across the street to the restaurant and out to the dock. The boat eased against the pier and Jeff stepped aboard.
Dawn was two hours away, and they didn’t have to be in place until just before sunup. They motored at idle speed to the middle of the bay and let the boat drift as they drank coffee from a thermos and talked of their days in prison.
They had known each other for years but had formed none of the emotional attachments that friends usually do. They were not friends and if anyone had ever asked either of them about other friends, they would have been stumped. They did not understand the concept. There
He let the body sag onto the floorboard. He threw a blanket over the dead woman and drove to Leffis Key. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the entrance path that ran back into the mangroves. He removed the woman’s body and placed it near the path, hidden by the undergrowth. He drove across the street and parked in the Coquina Beach parking lot. If the police saw the car, they’d probably find out that it was stolen, but by then Jeff would be long gone.
He used a towel to wipe down the car, cleaning every surface he’d touched. He wasn’t worried about cleaning up any blood. The cops could match DNA and determine that the whore had been killed in this car, but there was no way to connect him to the car. He pulled his backpack from the backseat, shrugged it onto his shoulders, and walked across the street and back to the body. He lifted it over his shoulder and walked down the path. He leaned her against the tree at the apex of the fork and placed her hands in her lap. He pulled a large cork and a small plastic case from the backpack. He opened the case and retrieved a large gauge needle attached to a syringe. He put the cork behind the left earlobe of the dead woman and pushed the needle through the flesh. He pulled another small case from the backpack and pulled out a silver whale tail earring and placed it in the hole he’d made in the earlobe. He bent her over at the waist, lifted her hair and used a small knife to carve three initials in the flesh of the back of her neck. He stripped her clothes off and propped her against the tree again, tied her there with rope from the backpack. He stood and surveyed his handiwork. It looked good. He rummaged around in the backpack until he found a high-resolution digital camera.
He was sweating now, but he was about done. He took several pictures of the woman, taking the chance that there was no one about to see the flash. He’d use the photographs later in the privacy of his bedroom tohelp win the release of the devils that built in him until he’d found another victim. He’d been taught well. He smiled, pulled the phone from his pocket and called Steiffel to come get him. He looked again at the dead woman, smiled, repacked his gear, and walked back to the parking lot that abutted the entrance to Leffis Key.
Steiffel arrived a few minutes later. They drove to the strip mall where Jeff had left his Mercedes. Steiffel followed him back to Longboat Key and to a beachfront condominium complex. Jeff parked his car and the two of them drove to a large house that fronted Anna Maria Sound just south of Palma Sola Bay where a large Fountain go-fast boat perched on a lift. Jeff had watched the place for two days and was pretty sure nobody was home. They parked in the back of the overflow lot of the Seafood Shack, a popular restaurant a few doors south of the house. The car was invisible from the street, hidden in the shadows thrown by the trees that bordered the back of the lot. It was after midnight and the restaurant was closed and dark.
Jeff sat in the car and watched Steiffel walk down the street and around to the back of the house. He powered up the electric lift motor and slowly lowered the boat into the water. When Jeff heard the boat coming toward him, idling, its engines burbling quietly, he walked across the street to the restaurant and out to the dock. The boat eased against the pier and Jeff stepped aboard.
Dawn was two hours away, and they didn’t have to be in place until just before sunup. They motored at idle speed to the middle of the bay and let the boat drift as they drank coffee from a thermos and talked of their days in prison.
They had known each other for years but had formed none of the emotional attachments that friends usually do. They were not friends and if anyone had ever asked either of them about other friends, they would have been stumped. They did not understand the concept. There
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