“This is not the time to lie to me either, Kyle.” He could tell by the look in the boy’s eyes that he was about to hear the truth. Maybe for the first time in this case.
Lynn pulled her black Nissan Sentra to the curb at the end of the street where Kyle Lee’s parents’ house sat. She was confident no one would notice a young woman sitting in a nondescript car in a suburban neighborhood. She felt sort of like a spy watching the house of a target after finding the address through several public records websites. She recognized his Dodge Dakota pickup truck. Clearly it was another upper-middle-class white kid trying to fit into the culture of Jacksonville. The easiest way was to buy a pickup truck. She’d seen the same truck around the fraternity apartment complex several times so she knew this was the right house.
She had arrived earlier than she had intended. It was still midafternoon, but she could always go and get something to eat and putter around downtown Winter Park. She wondered how cops were able to sit on stakeouts. She’d have to leave to pee at least once an hour, but somehow cops seem to get their job done. At least on TV. That was the extent of her involvement with the police.
She felt a twitch of excitement in her stomach and she dug into her purse for the Buck knife she intended to use on Kyle Lee. She had changed so much since this had started. She had gone from being terrified to now being excited by the prospect of taking someone’s life. She could see how serial killers got started and couldn’t stop. The idea of using a new instrument of death, like this knife, added another element to her excitement. Until recently she had never killed anything. She wouldn’t even fish with her father. The idea of harming innocent animals repulsed her. But these were not innocent animals. Just animals.
Lynn had never thought of herself as cunning, but her plan to commit the murders in different jurisdictions and using different methods struck her as extremely cunning. She knew no one had a clue. So far it looked like even the fraternity members thought it was just a string of bad luck. She’d still have to head back to Daytona and handle Alan Cole. From what she had heard he was in a coma at Fish Memorial Hospital. There wasn’t much information available other than he’d been struck by a hit-and-run driver in a large, blue SUV. Perfect.
Lynn considered how she might employ the knife when she finally met up with Kyle. She was searching for the perfect scream that had eluded her so far. A scream that would justify her actions and give her some satisfaction.
The only problem was she’d trained to strike him in the throat. Many of the knife-fighting references on the Web said the throat was the best target. The heart was protected by the sternum and was a relatively small target after the blade plunged through skin and cartilage. The throat stood out there exposed, begging to be slashed and stabbed. At least that’s how one website described it. If Lynn followed this formula she forfeited her chance to hear Kyle scream. Scream in terror and sorrow. That’s what she wanted to hear.
Stallings kept staring at Kyle until the young man looked up at him with a quick nod.
Stallings said, “You know how Zach made his extra money?”
Kyle just nodded.
“Is he missing because of that?”
“I don’t think so. Like I said earlier, he’s really unpredictable. He could’ve made some extra money with his pot business and taken off to Hawaii with some new girlfriend. That’s the way Zach is.”
Stallings assessed the young man and decided he was telling the truth even though he seemed somewhat evasive. Stallings pulled the photograph of Zach and Jeanie from his notebook and handed it to Kyle.
The young man took it in his hand and studied it for several seconds.
Finally Stallings said, “Do you know the girl?”
Kyle nodded his head slowly. “I think her name was Kelly. She
Lynn pulled her black Nissan Sentra to the curb at the end of the street where Kyle Lee’s parents’ house sat. She was confident no one would notice a young woman sitting in a nondescript car in a suburban neighborhood. She felt sort of like a spy watching the house of a target after finding the address through several public records websites. She recognized his Dodge Dakota pickup truck. Clearly it was another upper-middle-class white kid trying to fit into the culture of Jacksonville. The easiest way was to buy a pickup truck. She’d seen the same truck around the fraternity apartment complex several times so she knew this was the right house.
She had arrived earlier than she had intended. It was still midafternoon, but she could always go and get something to eat and putter around downtown Winter Park. She wondered how cops were able to sit on stakeouts. She’d have to leave to pee at least once an hour, but somehow cops seem to get their job done. At least on TV. That was the extent of her involvement with the police.
She felt a twitch of excitement in her stomach and she dug into her purse for the Buck knife she intended to use on Kyle Lee. She had changed so much since this had started. She had gone from being terrified to now being excited by the prospect of taking someone’s life. She could see how serial killers got started and couldn’t stop. The idea of using a new instrument of death, like this knife, added another element to her excitement. Until recently she had never killed anything. She wouldn’t even fish with her father. The idea of harming innocent animals repulsed her. But these were not innocent animals. Just animals.
Lynn had never thought of herself as cunning, but her plan to commit the murders in different jurisdictions and using different methods struck her as extremely cunning. She knew no one had a clue. So far it looked like even the fraternity members thought it was just a string of bad luck. She’d still have to head back to Daytona and handle Alan Cole. From what she had heard he was in a coma at Fish Memorial Hospital. There wasn’t much information available other than he’d been struck by a hit-and-run driver in a large, blue SUV. Perfect.
Lynn considered how she might employ the knife when she finally met up with Kyle. She was searching for the perfect scream that had eluded her so far. A scream that would justify her actions and give her some satisfaction.
The only problem was she’d trained to strike him in the throat. Many of the knife-fighting references on the Web said the throat was the best target. The heart was protected by the sternum and was a relatively small target after the blade plunged through skin and cartilage. The throat stood out there exposed, begging to be slashed and stabbed. At least that’s how one website described it. If Lynn followed this formula she forfeited her chance to hear Kyle scream. Scream in terror and sorrow. That’s what she wanted to hear.
Stallings kept staring at Kyle until the young man looked up at him with a quick nod.
Stallings said, “You know how Zach made his extra money?”
Kyle just nodded.
“Is he missing because of that?”
“I don’t think so. Like I said earlier, he’s really unpredictable. He could’ve made some extra money with his pot business and taken off to Hawaii with some new girlfriend. That’s the way Zach is.”
Stallings assessed the young man and decided he was telling the truth even though he seemed somewhat evasive. Stallings pulled the photograph of Zach and Jeanie from his notebook and handed it to Kyle.
The young man took it in his hand and studied it for several seconds.
Finally Stallings said, “Do you know the girl?”
Kyle nodded his head slowly. “I think her name was Kelly. She
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