Chapter 79

SEVENTY-NINE

FEATHERWOOD FARM

He took a black marker and crossed out the faces of the twins. Those two were taken care of. Barbara was suffering. And she would suffer more.

He studied the little redhead in the picture. He'd seen her in town, in clothes that were too big on her skinny frame. Her sneakers had holes in them and she hadn't been wearing socks. Her sweatshirt was stained and tattered just as his own had been when he was a boy.

Her mother probably got them from the thrift store or some donation center. She and her frail-looking mama toted trash bags holding their belongings, the little girl dragging hers behind her in the dirt as if they were too heavy a load for a peanut-sized kid who probably went hungry most nights.

He almost felt a kinship with her.

Almost.

But he still had to take her. In fact, he'd probably be doing her a favor by getting her away from a loser mother who couldn't take care of her.

Maybe he wouldn't kill her though. He'd take her in and raise her as his own. Make Barbara wonder every damn day what had happened to her and if she was dead or alive.

A smile curved his lips at the thought.

He could even bring her back here where he grew up. Teach her the same lessons he'd learned.

Family means everything, his mama had once said.

"We'll always be together," his daddy promised.

But they'd lied.

Just like Barbara had.