Читать книгу Copycat - Erica Spindler, Erica Spindler - Страница 20

Thursday, March 9, 2006 5:05 p.m.

He sat at the bar, ice-cold draft in front of him, bowl of pretzels and his pack of smokes beside that. He had arrived before the after-work crowd, to get the best seat in the house—directly in front of the TV that was mounted behind and above the bar.

He acknowledged excitement. Anxiety.

Would his Kitten come through for him this time?

He hoped so. He would be angry if she defied him again.

He lit a cigarette and sucked the smoke in. It had an instant calming effect on him. He smiled to himself, recalling watching her at her little daughter’s grave. It’d been sad. And curiously sweet. He supposed he should feel bad, spying on her. Using what he learned against her.

But he didn’t.

He was just that kind of guy.

Taking another drag on his cigarette, he glanced at his watch. It had been genius to ask her to call him Peanut. It had rattled her, big-time. As had calling on her cell phone. Both proved he meant business. That he knew his shit and wasn’t afraid to play dirty to get what he wanted.

Genius. He liked the sound of that.

Damn but he liked being him.

The News at Five began in earnest. Top story of the day: “The Return of the Sleeping Angel Killer.”

They showed a picture of Julie Entzel. Then of his Little Angels. Their narrative was over the top.

Typical media.

They cut to a breaking press conference. And there she was, his Kitten. He hung on her few words. They were exploring every lead. Studying all the evidence. They had no proof they were even dealing with the same killer.

Blah … blah … blah …

The other detective was with her, Mary Catherine Riggio. Taking a back seat. Standing quietly at his Kitten’s side. Expression set. Grim. Not a bit happy about this turn of events. About her sweet, career-making case being stolen out from under her nose. He almost laughed out loud.

Of course, not a word about a copycat. No mention of communication from someone claiming to be the SAK. No indeed.

She closed the brief conference by assuring the media that they would catch this monster, that he would not get away with this heinous murder.

But he already had.

He smiled to himself and stood. Good girl, Kitten. Stay tuned, there’s lots more fun to come.