Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
After he leaves, I take a quick shower. I don’t bother to dry my hair or put makeup on. Van once told me he hated that shit. That didn’t stop me from wearing it, though. It wasn’t until one night when he was moving inside of me that his eyes left mine to drop down to my nose. He bent his head and kissed it, not missing a stroke, and said, “I think your freckles might be the most beautiful thing about you.”
Since then, I rarely bothered with makeup if it was just Van and me. I was giving him 100 percent access to my freckles.
I throw on a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, intent on cleaning the house a bit. It was obviously messier when Lucas was here, and I’ve been able to stay on top of it better once he was gone, but the carpet needs a good vacuuming. I’d taken it upon myself to do all the cleaning, feeling it was the least I could do since I was staying here practically rent free.
I lug out the vacuum cleaner from the linen closet and start in the living room. I hum to myself, my mind often drifting to think about Van. About the ways he’s opened up over the last few weeks, and I can’t help but be a little hopeful that I could have something more with him.
It’s so much more than sex to me now. My stupid heart is involved, but it’s also a patient heart. I think he’s probably worth waiting for.
It doesn’t take me much effort to do Lucas’s room. He’d of course told me I could move in there, as he intended to stay at Stephanie’s until he could find a place to buy, but there had been no need. I’d been in Van’s bed every night since then, even when he was at the away game in Jersey. It was a way to stay close to him, and besides, he really, really liked knowing I was in his bed that morning before the game when I called him for my promised phone sex.
Before I vacuum Van’s room, I take a few minutes to pick up some of his clothes from the floor. Not sure what it is about men, but why they can’t take the extra few steps to put their dirty socks in the hamper is beyond me. I then turn on the vacuum, letting the noise relax me. I move it back and forth across the carpet, and when I reach the bed, I take advantage of the fact this model extends flat to reach under furniture.
I’m three strokes in under the bed when I can feel that I’ve hit something. It’s lightweight, and the forward movement pushed it out to the other side. I don’t bother looking, though, taking my time to move around his bed. When I get to the other side, I see it’s an old shoe box and I’d knocked the top off.
Shutting the vacuum off, I bend over and grab the top, intent on replacing it and shoving it back under the bed. But there’s a document on top, and the official seal from the Virginia Department of Corrections catches my eye.
My hand is reaching for it before I can even have an attack of conscience, so curious about why Van would have correspondence from a prison.
I unfold the letter and my eyes skim down it. I take in certain words that don’t make sense, so I slow down…start from the beginning and read it slowly.
Grant VanBuskirk? In care of Etta Turner?
I take in details that a prisoner is dying, but there’s not much else.
Weird.
My eyes go back to the box, and the next thing I see is an old photograph. It’s in color, and slightly faded. I couldn’t possibly date the clothing, but it’s clearly before I was born.
A man, a woman, and a little boy of about five years old, all smiling at the camera. The father has one arm around the mother, and another holding the little boy’s shoulder with clear affection.
Sweet.
Next in the box looks like stacks and stacks of newspaper articles. I’m past the point of feeling guilty about snooping, so I pull them out and sit down on my butt beside the bed.
The first article is dated from twenty years ago from the Washington Times. The headline says, CAPITAL CITY KILLER ARRESTED.
I read the article about a man named Arco VanBuskirk—the prisoner referenced in the letter—who had been arrested and charged with the rapes and murders of five women. The details were sparse, as the investigation was still pending.
The next article is from two days later. It has a bit more details about the grisly murders and the fact that they had gone unsolved for years.