Ties That Bind

Chapter 28

HE POUNDED THE STEERING WHEEL WITH HIS HANDS. Was every elderly person out for a leisurely drive today? He lit up a smoke at the fifth red light. His hands were unsteady when he lifted it to take a drag. Murder two, complete. The thought brought with it liberation but also a conviction to stay on track without wavering. It was easier this time, but part of him feared it had been a mistake to wink at the girls. He replayed it over and over in the last hour. He should have just left.

But it sure made the heavier girl's day. Both were outcasts. What could a little attention hurt? He could relate to them. Being judged unworthy by society. At least he gave them some happiness. The feelings of elation were quickly replaced by feelings of despair.

So careless.

He rubbed the stubble on his face, sulking in his pity over self-inadequacy for only a second before a smirk set in. The emotions he experienced with this second kill had him flipping between fear and euphoria.

But he had to focus on the good that would come of this. All his energy needed to be steadied on his primary target. The one who gave him the fuel to keep doing what needed doing. It would all end on his terms. He was the one with the control. Two down and one to go. And the satisfaction that would come with that one would exceed all the others. He was almost too anxious to wait.

*****

"KNIGHT."

Madison turned to see Chief McAlexandar approaching. His long stride would equal two for the average person. He came with Sergeant Winston by his side. The chief's height dwarfed Winston.

"Chief." As she addressed him, a wave of hopelessness set in. It seemed like this man would always be her superior. She kept hoping he'd take an early retirement, but no good fortune that way yet.

"Another body." He came to a stop in front of her. His six-foot-four frame would intimidate most, but not her. And he always had such a way of first repeating the obvious. "And what are we looking at, Knight? Your file on the Saunders woman mentioned the killer was likely someone she knew, an isolated incident. So much for that damned theory. Make sure we find this guy before there's a third victim and this graduates to a serial."

He had such a way of shifting blame. It wasn't resting on the shoulders of the guilty whose hands were bloodstained. No, he held her accountable.

"Suspects."

She gave it a few seconds to determine whether it was a statement or a question. It was the pitch he'd use at times left one guessing whether he had finished talking. She knew she could go ahead when his attention on her confirmed it was, in fact, a direct question. "Yes we do, Chief."

He stood there, one hand braced on a hip. His blue eyes were hardened, focused on her. Maybe this explained why Winston was always in her face, this man was always in his?

Madison handed him the photo. "This man was in a frame by Laura Saunders' bed, and now..." She gestured toward the teenage girls. "They've identified him as leaving from this parking lot. They also gave us a car and partial plate. We need to—"

"Have a BOLO issued," McAlexandar jumped right in.

This man irritated her. If he listened, they'd already be past this. "Terry was about to—"

"What are you waiting for?" He looked at Sergeant Winston and Terry, who stood there. "Well..." The two men followed his prodding and stepped a few feet away to discuss the particulars.

The attitude he'd use with people, the demeaning aura. Ugh! It infuriated her. She had successfully earned her spot on the force, not due in any part to him.