Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
If I let myself think about it enough, I would have to conclude that it was nothing but selfish.
“I, ah, I have to tell you something,” she said, nibbling on her lower lip. “And I don’t want you to be pissed,” she added.
Not much of a chance at that when she was looking so damn sweet sitting there.
“Okay. What’s up?”
“I, ah, well… a local true crime podcaster reached out to me,” she started, and despite myself, I felt myself stiffening. “I didn’t give her any details!” she was quick to blurt out. “She just kind of wanted to talk to me about my love of true crime, and how that obsession helped me keep my wits about me in a serious situation. I did confirm that I was a victim of the Silent Sadist. But I didn’t even mention that I’d stabbed him. Or any description of him. I know that you need to keep certain things under wraps,” she said.
“Okay,” I said, ears buzzing a bit, but trying not to get ahead of myself. She was within her rights to talk to whoever she wanted about anything. “Can I ask which podcast?” I asked.
“Crime Time with Poppy,” she said.
I couldn’t pretend to be well-versed in the world of true crime podcasting. I got enough crime in my daily life. I didn’t seek it out in my free time. But I damn sure would be looking up this one particular podcast when I got home later. If I could even make myself wait that long.
“Okay. Thanks for telling me,” I said, watching as she relaxed a bit, but then looked out the window, and went ramrod straight.
Because we were pulling up to her house.
The news people were gone, moved on to some scandal with a congressman or something like that. I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t exactly up to date with my politics.
Mari and the Silent Sadist were yesterday’s news.
For them.
As for Mari and me, we were still living it. We would continue to be. Until the sick bastard was finally rotting behind bars.
I had been in law enforcement long enough to know just how many men and women had been found innocent after being jailed, so as a whole, I didn’t believe in capital punishment.
But if there was ever a man who deserved to be strapped down on a table and have a paralyzing shot stuck into a vein before the potassium chloride was injected, it would be this one. I was even reasonably sure he would warrant them forgetting to give him the anesthetic first, so he got to feel liquid fire burn through his entire body before the drugs finally induced cardiac arrest and killed him.
It would still be more merciful than he’d been to the women who’d been unfortunate enough to catch his attention.
“Do you need a minute?” I asked as she stared out her window at her house like it was somewhere she’d never seen before. “Hey,” I tried when she said nothing, but her leg started bouncing, prompting me to press a hand there to stop the motion. The touch seemed to get through where my words couldn’t. “I could do this for you if you’re not ready.”
Mari took a deep breath, looking down at my hand, and a small smile tugged at her lips before she turned to look at me.
“No, I can do this,” she said with a little nod. “I’m not going to let him take my life from me,” she added.
“Good for you,” I said, unable to stop myself from giving her thigh another little squeeze before letting go.
The security guy showed up as Mari was unlocking the front door, stealing her chance to ease into being in her house again, and forcing her to put on a brave face as the guy prattled on about the plan, the wiring, the features.
I took the opportunity as she took notes to move into her bedroom, cleaning up what was left of the blood, and taking the bag out to the trash before meeting them around the back of the house where they were discussing motion-activated lights.
“Alright. Well. I will get to work then,” the guy, Jacob, said, giving her a nod, looking happy to get to work and stop having to give her the security spiel.
“We’ll leave you to it,” she said, forcing a smile, then turning and falling into step with me as we moved inside the house again.
She got tenser with each step.
“What’s going on up in there?” I asked, nodding toward her head.
“So much chatter that I can’t think straight,” she admitted, moving over to the couch she’d been sitting on when I’d first questioned her.
“Like?” I asked, sitting down next to her this time.
“Like would it be completely insane to put bars on all the windows,” she said, snatching one of the thoughts out of the storm of them.