Freak by Jennifer Hillier

with himself and Maddox to keep things civilized. It had helped having Sheila there today, and he dreaded going back alone. He didn’t trust himself around Abby Maddox.
    Danny climbed into the Jeep’s passenger side. When Jerry got in beside her, she said, “So you think she’s been corresponding somehow with the killer. That’s really sick when you think about it.”
    “Damn skippy.” He started the engine and pulled out of the lot.
    “You think he writes to her?”
    “Don’t know, didn’t ask.”
    “What would the letters say?”
    “Don’t know, haven’t seen them yet.”
    “Does she—”
    Jerry finally laughed. “I don’t know. You can ask her yourself tomorrow.”
    Danny snuggled back into the seat, her young face glowing in the light. He could tell she was excited to meet the notorious criminal, and while it was irritating, Jerry really couldn’t take it personally. She was just a kid. She wasn’t trying to offend him.
    Ten minutes later he pulled up in front of the converted warehouse she called a loft. He’d seen where she lived once before, in the daylight, but right now it looked positively unsafe. It was surrounded by abandoned buildings and Jerry was pretty sure one of them had been a crack house at some point.
    “You should move,” he said, rolling down the window. He kept his eye on the small group of men smoking near the building’s entrance. “I don’t like the unsavory looks of your neighbors.”
    Danny chuckled and reached for her bag. “Two of those unsavory guys are my bandmates. We practice in the abandoned building next door. Some kind of machinery used to be manufactured there, and the whole place is soundproofed. We can play as loud as we want.”
    Okay, so maybe that was pretty cool. Danny was the lead singer in an alternative rock band—Jerry couldn’t remember the band’s name, or maybe he’d never asked her—and he could see that a warehouse would be the perfect place to rehearse.
    But playing music here was one thing. Living here was another. He didn’t care if the real estate analysts had declared this neighborhood an “up-and-coming” area of Seattle. In his opinion, it was much too industrial to feel like home.
    “Seven sharp, okay?” he said as they got out of the Jeep. He popped the back and hefted her bike out. “Be outside on time. Don’t make me buzz you. We have to be at the prison by eight.”
    “Why so early?” Danny stifled a yawn and pointed to her friends. “I still have a couple of hours of rehearsal tonight.”
    “You’re kidding. It’s midnight.”
    She gave him a look that made him feel old. “It’s the only time we could all meet. We have a gig tomorrow night at the Pink Elephant. You should come. Show starts at eleven.”
    “Hell no. Way past my bedtime.” Jerry pointed at her and raised an eyebrow. “And girl, I come back for you tomorrow and you’re not waiting for me outside, I keep on driving.”
    “Chill, dude. I’ll be ready.”

chapter 11
    MORRIS WAS RED, Morris was heaving, and Morris was pacing. None of these things was a good sign, but all three combined? Sheila clutched a pillow to her chest and braced herself for the onslaught. Maybe she should have waited till morning to talk about this. They’d both had a long day, and midnight wasn’t the best time for a serious discussion.
    He pointed a large finger at her and she cringed. “You’d better explain this to me before my head explodes.”
    “Morris—”
    “What in the world would possess you to go to a prison and talk to that psycho bitch?” Morris shouted. The sound actually hurt Sheila’s ears and she wondered if the neighbors could hear them. Morris was not a soft-spoken guy to begin with, but at full volume, she could feel the walls shaking. He continued to stomp around their bedroom, not waiting for an answer. “I’m gonna kill Jerry for bringing you there. Goddammit, he knows better. Abby Maddox is dangerous, Sheila. She’s a