Scream Catcher by Vincent Zandri Page A

belly.
    “And if Christian Jordan is really the alive and happy Hector Lennox—a man who is suspected of two other murders in Lake George—that would make him a serial killer … Technically speaking.”
    Jude nodding.
    “Provided the M.O.s for all three murders remain consistent. Blanchfield seems to be counting on it.”
    “And now this serial … what do you call it? … kill gamer? … has returned to the region in order to unleash his death and destruction in the form of a video-inspired kill game.” It’s a question sprinkled with more than a little cynicism.
    “Which is a video game played not with a computer but with real live people and in this case, my lovely wife, real genuine screams.”
    “Screams,” Rosie repeats.
    Nodding, Jude says, “Our kill gamer is also a scream catcher. He likes to use his iPhone to record the screams of his victims before he kills them. He then adds the actual audio to the game.”
    “How sick,” Rosie says.
    “How inventively sick,” the ex-cop agrees.
    But even for Jude, the eyewitness, the story of Hector Lennox is beginning to sound like a lost episode of the Twilight Zone .
    “And by sheer coincidence you just happened to witness one of these kill games and nearly got yourself killed in the process.” Thoughtfully, Rosie sips her drink while the lake laps up against the dock. “So where does the safety and well being of your family—present and future—fit into all this?”
    Jude can’t help but feel his stomach tighten against the Aspen burger that fills it.
    “If you don’t want me to testify,” he says. “If you feel frightened by my involvement in this case, I’ll back out, no questions asked.”
    Rosie swallows more of her drink. A long swallow that verges on a chug, as if it were filled with booze.
    “Not fair,” she says coming up for air. “This isn’t up to me. It’s up to you. You have to do what you think is right and you have to do it with your family in mind—your wife, your little boy. Your. Little. Girl.” Giving her belly a pat. “We’re what’s at stake in this thing, case you haven’t considered it.”
    Jude swallows something cold and hard. He’s been considering the risks all morning long, amongst a dozen other reasons why he should back out.
    “Have you thought this thing through, Jude? What happens if Lennox comes after you? What happens if he comes after us?”
    “If you want me to drop out, Rosie, I’ll understand. I don’t want this to scare you.”
    “Come on, Jude. I appreciate your offering to quit on the prosecution for my sake, but let’s face it, sounds to me like you’ve already committed.”
    Draining beer number two, Jude peers out the corner of his eye in search of the waitress and beer number three. Maybe this time he will cut to the chase and order two bottles instead of one, drown the demon inside his chest in a tsunami of alcohol and suds.
    “I am already committed to putting Lennox away,” he nods. “But …”
    “But what?”
    “But believe me when I say that that commitment does not override your feelings.”
    “You might be doing the right thing morally, Jude. But this conversation is beginning to verge on patronization.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “You are entertaining my feelings for the sake of entertaining my feelings. Under the circumstances, you feel testifying is the right thing … No, the only thing to do.”
    An inland gull swoops down from the bright sky. It lands on the dock, sticks its long neck and head into the water, comes back out with a small fish in its beak, then takes off again, lake water splashing from the wings that slap it.
    “I’m sorry,” he says. “But it’s important for me to know your mindset.”
    “The situation concerns me,” Rosie says. “No. Actually it frightens the daylights out of me. I feel vulnerable. For me, for Jack, for the baby. Mostly for you.”
    “It scares me too. But on the other hand, there’s a voice in my head telling me that