Chapter 9 - Avery

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With the cops being in a bit of a rut, I begin to focus on my next victim.

I keep a list of potential victims buried in my subconscious, bringing it forth when the time is right. I bring out my little brown book once again and scribble down names, the stories, the tales. So many I've done, so many left to do. How to choose the right one for the right person for the right time. Some tales are yet to play out. Some tales are just ending. Some tales will never begin.

My heart and mind are racing so rapidly my hand is struggling to keep up, the blood coursing through my veins causing them to tremble.

I settle. My choice decided. Now, to find the right person, I think to myself as I watch the pages catch alight and shrivel into ashes.

It is noon on Saturday. The sun is welcoming the people of Southhurst with a warm smile and a soft kiss. She is more affectionate to some, I notice as I pass strangers with a rosier hue to their shoulders than I observe on others. This attitude of hers is unexpected due to her timing, but nonetheless it is greeted with open arms by everyone.

I make my way to the coffee shop in the centre of town, scuttling across the road and dodging old, speeding British taxi drivers as I go.

The Cosy Coffee is discreetly located between two competing estate agents, yet its buoyant, candyfloss pink colour theme and large, goofy letterings make it unmissable.

As I enter I'm greeted by a beaming grin attached to the soft face of a tiny little girl with lopsided pigtails messily tied up above each ear. She has on a 'my little pony' t-shirt, reminding me of my oh-so-distant youth, and a bright pink tutu which has so many ruffles it almost engulfs her entirely.

"Hi there, cutie," I smile back as I'm scooting past her.

I catch sight of Heidi and wave, "hiya, how are you?"

"Well I'm just peachy, dear. How are you? Not working too hard I hope." She raises her eyebrow in a motherly manner as if she holds wisdom far beyond her years.

I breathe a faint laugh and assure her, "no, of course not. Can I just get the usual ple—"

My sentence is cut short by a tugging on my jacket. I look down to find the little girl again.

"Oh, Maya, will you stop that!" Heidi exclaims. The little girl quickly releases me.

"Sorry, sweetie. She's going through a phase, she just has to hold on to everything she sees." She shakes her head and sighs, as if she has given this speech to countless customers before me. "I swear you just can't find a good babysitter in this town. They'll just cancel on you last minute and leave you stranded, having to take your five-year-old to work!"

I sympathize with her and assure her it is not a problem. We chat for a few more minutes until my skimmed coconut cappuccino and lemon and poppy seed muffin are ready.

Irritatingly, my usual table is being occupied by a middle-aged man scratching his head and rubbing his face vigorously with his clammy hands. I assume he is fretting about the bald patch on the top of his head spreading towards his hairline. I feel as though he has enough taxing issues to worry about, so I let this one slide.

Luckily, there is a vacant corner table on the other side of the room and so I set myself up over there. When I visit here on the order of business that I am on today, I always have to take a table situated in the corner as these give the best field of vision to observe from.

I open up my laptop and tap away at it, pretending to be engrossed in some serious documents and emails. While my fingers are typing, my eyes are watching.

Cosy Coffee, I found, is the best place to find new people and new tales, because it is a place where people come not for a quick fix on-the-go or for a serious but supposedly unofficial business meeting, like they do in a commercial café like Starbucks. No, here is where people come to catch up with old friends or family. Here is where people come to have a killing-them-softly talk with a significant other if they want to 'still be friends'. Here is where people come to take a step back from the hustle and the bustle of the town and their lives and to be in their own company.

Which is great for me.

So many different kinds of people with so many different tales come into this café and I get to witness it all. I've found nearly all my victims in here.

I can never know exactly how long I will have to sit here before the right person comes along. Sometimes it's a matter of minutes. Sometimes it's a matter of hours. Today, I have been residing in this corner for eighty-seven minutes before a potential comes through the door.

About time, I grumble, a girl can only handle so many coffees without a toilet break.

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