the one who got away

VIII

Thursday. Approximately eight days from the murder of Chris Green and four days from Julia Thixton's death. Beatrice had been away from the police station for majority of the evening due to Andrew letting her and Connor off early since there were no strong leads in the case at the moment. That was the worst part about investigating homicide; you were always waiting for another victim to further the evidence.

Beatrice had no intentions of killing again so soon from Julia; she was not sure whether her killer would strike again. That being said, victim five was a complete accident.

The weather was miserable that Thursday night, with cloudy skies and a downpour of rain. Beatrice was standing outside of the Walmart with two bags of groceries in her hand and attempting to open her umbrella with the other. She had made a trip to the store to buy cans of cat food for Pancake, and chocolate chip cookies for herself. The parking lot was isolated from people as most stood at the door waiting for the rain to die down.

Beatrice held the opened umbrella above her head and briskly walked across the parking lot to her car. She parked near the end of the lot as she was so used to making further walks when Connor drove. The red car unlocked with two beeps and Beatrice popped open her trunk. She turned her back away from the lot as she loaded the bags into her car. A foolish move.

When Beatrice straightened her back, she felt something cold press against her spine.

"If you scream, I will shoot." A raspy voice hissed from behind her. "Now, turn around and look at me."

Beatrice's entire body was stiff as she slowly turned around to face the man with the gun. He had a buzzcut, facial hair, and a scar under his left eye. He wore a soaking wet white tank stop and black basketball shorts. He was much taller than Beatrice, to where he had to glance down to look her in the eye. The gun seemed like a toy to him.

The man smirked as he looked Beatrice up and down. It made her skin crawl. The two stood in silence for a moment before the man grabbed Beatrice by the shirt collar and slammed her against her car. Her face was inches from his and his breath reeked of cigarettes. "You are going to get in your car and take me for a drive. If you try in the slightest to escape—" He pressed the gun into Beatrice's cheek. "—I will not hesitate."

He loosened his grip against Beatrice and opened the front door. She sat behind the steering wheel and started her car, her hands trembling so intensely she almost dropped her keys. She contemplated calling the police while the man walked to his side, or even Connor, but she knew she would not make it out alive. The man opened his door and climbed in beside Beatrice and immediately pointed the gun back in her direction.

"Take me to Greenwood Park, beautiful." The man positioned his entire body to face Beatrice as she backed out of her parking space and away from the store.

Beatrice had a switchblade in her door in case of emergencies, but she had to be able to reach down without him noticing. This was definitely an emergency where she needed protection and for once was not a ruse to kill someone willingly.

"Tell me your name." The man instructed, watching the road out of the windshield to make sure Beatrice was going the right way.

"B-B-Beatrice," She stuttered. "Beatrice A-Adams."

"Beatrice Adams," The man repeated to himself. "I like that name."

The man fished around in his pocket before pulling out a packet of cigarettes. He shoved one in his mouth and flickered his lighter. "You don't mind if I smoke in here do ya?" He asked jokingly before lighting his cigarette. He inhaled and exhaled a cloud of smoke. Beatrice hated the smell of smoke and now it was going to linger in her car for weeks. Not that it even mattered at the moment, she did not know if she would be alive to smell her car.