Chapter 36

THIRTY-SIX

He couldn't take his eyes off the girl. She looked like…

No, it couldn't be. His eyes were playing tricks on him.

Haunting him with images of Taylor and Heidi and what their pale faces looked like in death. More beautiful though than when they were whining and crying.

Heidi had been the weak link. But he'd admired Taylor's spunk. Still, she'd had to die.

As he'd stood there studying their limp, dead bodies at the falls, he'd considered burying them deep in the frozen ground, so deep no one would find them. But he wanted them to be found, for people to know the truth about her .

He especially wanted her to know that he knew. For her to suffer.

He was fucking tired of being invisible. It had been that way all his life. No one looked at him. He was ignored. Stuck in the corner and told to be quiet.

Not to intrude on the family. As if he wasn't a part of it.

Each day he'd looked for someone to come and save him. But no one had.

As he moved through the crowded festival, he stayed in the shadows and observed.

Laughter bubbled in his throat. The little girls had no idea he was watching. Coming for them. Like dominos, one by one they'd fall.

He scrubbed his hand over his face and closed his eyes for a second. Voices, laughter and holiday music echoed around him. Kids were squealing and laughing, the goats in the petting zoo screeching so high pitched it hurt his ears. The scent of the food trucks, of funnel cakes and barbeque and corndogs filled the air.

Someone bumped his elbow as they passed, and he opened his eyes and realized it was a scrawny woman with that hollow emptiness of old people. He wanted to shove her to the ground and beat the hell out of her, but the old man with her looked up at him with a tremble in his lips and he realized the couple's days were numbered. No need to bother with them and draw attention to himself.

Hissing between his teeth, he let them go on and looked for the girl again.

He saw the back of her head, her brown ponytail bobbing, red coat the color of blood flapping behind her in the wind as she ran toward a woman and man he assumed were her parents.

He pulled the photo he'd stolen at Barbara's house. Then the names he'd gotten from Delilah. Each of the little girls in the picture had worn the same heart-shaped necklace.

This little girl had been wearing one. The little pendant shimmered in the streak of sunshine battling through the dark clouds. She was one of the girls in the photograph.

He couldn't take her now. He had to plan carefully. Make sure he remained invisible just as he always had been.

Then he'd snatch her when no one was looking.