by S. E. Green
PRAISE FOR THE SERIES
“The ending literally left me with my mouth hanging open–not only was it shocking, it was more than a little gruesome and bloody. In a word, perfect.” ~Crimespree Magazine
“Dark and disturbing–a high stakes thriller that offers a window into a terrifying world.” ~Kami Garcia, #1 NYT Bestselling Author
"S. E. Green spares no one--unique, beautifully twisted, and rich in mystery." ~Jennifer L. Armentrout, #1 NYT Bestselling Author
"A zippy, gripping psychological drama." - Kirkus Reviews
"With an engaging and complex main character and a plot twist you'll never see, Green's thrillers are to die for." ~RT Reviews
“Readers will be most fascinated by Lane herself, an emotion-less machine whose small twinklings of humanity are awakened as the killer gets ever closer.” ~Booklist
“Readers who relish a darkly twisted crime drama with a well-managed surprise ending will enjoy curling up with this one.” ~BCCB
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Everyone has a dark side, and I certainly explore mine when I write Lane.
She is the 18-year-old daughter of the infamous serial killer, The Decapitator. Lane was first introduced in Killer Instinct as a conflicted 16-year-old with a dark side she couldn’t explain.
Now she can explain it.
Now she knows what to do with it…
I love to hear from my readers! Don’t hesitate to shoot me an email [email protected]. I try my very best to respond to every message.
You can also sign up for my (non-annoying) newsletter at http://bit.ly/segreennews
KILLERS AMONG
The Strangler
S. E. Green
1
LIFE IS SUPPOSED to be pretty routine, right? You graduate high school, work a summer job at Patch and Paw, help out at home, you get back into stalking…
I now consider the people I stalk my new pals. One can never have too many pals.
“So how are things, Lane?” Victor, my step-dad, asks over dinner on a Tuesday night. Pork chop night. “Enjoying your last summer?”
“Yep.” I don’t know why people refer to the summer before college as the “last summer”. What, I’m never going to have a summer again? I don’t get it.
My sister, Daisy, dredges her roll across her plate. “When’s Tommy coming back?”
Even though I’m not indifferent to that question, I still shrug. “Not sure.”
The last time I saw him, I hopped on the back of his motorcycle after Dr. Issa’s funeral. We went for a very long ride, hours in fact, and then he delivered me back home.
Dr. Issa…now there’s a name I haven’t thought of in a while. My former boss and the first person to make me sexually aware. I used to think my thing for him was one-sided until I learned differently. The age difference mattered more to him than me, but that was Dr. Issa for you—caring, intelligent, handsome.
Dead. Killed by Catalina, my copycat.
“Have you guys texted at all?” Daisy asks, and it takes my brain a second to catch back up.
“A few times.” Months have gone by since Tommy left, and yes we’ve texted a few times. He dropped out of college, took a hiatus from his job at Whole Foods, and decided to do a cross-country ride. If I had already graduated high school, I probably would have gone with him. Not that he asked, but a trip like that sounds way too inviting.
BE BACK IN A FEW DAYS. That was the last text I got from him. I ride by his apartment every couple of days to see if he’s back, and no motorcycle yet.
Justin, my younger brother, crinkles his nose. “At camp today this kid fell and busted open his head. There was so much blood!”
Daisy cringes. “Gross.”
I perk up. “How much blood?”
My whole family looks at me, and this is why I need to keep my thoughts to myself.
Victor changes the subject. “So, it surprised me to see you had signed up for freshmen orientation. Doesn’t really seem like your thing.”
It’s not, but I’d like to think I’ve been making more “normal” decisions lately, and these three sitting around the table make that possible. Yes, I’d like to think life is pretty good.
I turn to Daisy, going on this whole normal thing. “So Cheer Camp’s good?”
“Some of the girls annoy me.” She shrugs one shoulder, looking more like me than I think I’m comfortable with. “I’m not even sure I want to cheer anymore.”
Victor and I exchange a surprised glance. Daisy’s going to be a junior and officially inducted into the Varsity Squad. Cheer and Varsity have driven her whole life. I don’t know if she’s growing up or just out of her previous life. I guess her maturing has to start somewhere. Though if I had to put my finger on it, it would be the moment our mother died.
Or rather the moment I killed her.
“Um,” Justin wipes his mouth and lays his napkin aside. “Tomorrow is ‘bring-your-mom-to-camp-day’. Who am I supposed to bring?”
For a couple of seconds, no one says a word, then Victor says, “I’ll go.”
Justin sighs. “That won’t work because then who will go next week on ‘bring-your-dad-to-camp-day’?”
Daisy waves her hand through the air, straightening in her chair. “I’ll go.” She jokingly narrows her eyes at Justin. “That is unless there’s a ‘bring-your-sister-to-camp-day’?”
Justin giggles. “No, there’s not that.”
Daisy nods. “Then I’ll go with you tomorrow.” She glances my direction, and I give her my best big-sister smile because maturing is definitely what she’s doing.
“Cool,” Justin says, just like that. If anyone should have issues out of all this, it should be my little brother. No mother, anger, rejection, abandonment. He could claim it all, but not Justin. He rolls with it and moves on.
I could take a lesson from him. They both get up then, taking dishes in, and chatting about tomorrow.
Victor looks across the table at me, his expression calm. “I wasn’t sure it would happen, but we are definitely falling into place. We’re going to be okay. I’ve got three awesome kids. No drama. Good life. And I’ve finally figured out, it’s okay to drop the ball. To relax. To rely on others. Things don’t have to be perfect. Just okay. As long as I try my best, it’s okay.”
Yep, that’s right. Rely on others.
Like me.
I’ll make sure things are running smoothly. Like with old Ted Lowman, AKA “Teddy Bear”. He first came to my attention in Judge Penn’s court, where I like to spend some of my free time.
Teddy Bear killed a local high school girl and then was released on some sort of police mishandling of evidence, whereupon he falls off the radar.
Everyone’s radar but mine.
2
LANE, THE MUFFIN girl. Part of my new thing. I show up at the start of every week to Patch and Paw with a box of muffins. The receptionist always takes blueberry. The groomer, a carrot walnut. The office manager, a chocolate chip. The janitor, a vanilla pear.
“Mm,” the kennel assistant bites into her apple-cinnamon one. “Better than oral.”
(A) I wouldn’t know and (B) that’s just too much information. I turn away, giving the last one, a double espresso, to Dr. Issa’s replacement, Dr. O’Neal. She’s nice, I guess, but she’s no Dr. Issa. Still, I hand the muffin over with a little smile.
“Got a little favor,” Dr. O’Neal says, grinning.
I hate that grin. It’s always followed by some menial request. “Yes?”
“Bo-Bee is here, and you know how hard his anal glands are to express. You seem to be the only one he’ll allow near his rear.” She pinches off a delicate corner of the muffin and plunks it into her mouth. “Mind tackling that this morning?”
If Dr. Issa was here
, I’d be assisting with surgery, but okay, whatever. “Sure.”
Dr. O’Neal’s grin gets bigger, and I really want to tell her she has a chunk of espresso bean stuck in her side tooth, but I refrain.
“Thanks!” She chirps, whirling away, before spinning right back. “By the way, love your new hair. Makes you look so mature.”
Mature was not what I was going for. My kinky red hair used to hang down my back as it has pretty much my entire life, and now it’s shoulder length for functional reasons only. It fits better up inside my neoprene full face mask.
In my back pocket, my phone buzzes and I check the display. I’M MEETING HAMMOND LATER. This is the text I get from Daisy.
OKAY, I text back. Hammond’s her several-months-now boyfriend, and I have no clue why she’s texting me. It’s not like she needs my approval.
I THINK HE WANTS TO HAVE SEX. This is the next text to come in and total news to me. When they started dating, Hammond was adamant on the abstinence and no partying thing, and Daisy surprised me by jumping quickly on board. She hasn’t been a virgin for a very long time and really sex has never been a hang up for her. Neither has partying. So I’m not really getting this.
AND? I text back.
I DON’T WANT TO, she quickly responds.
THEN DON’T, I type back.
OKAY, THEN I WON’T.
I think Daisy did the whole sex and partying thing because she was bored. She never really seemed to like it. It’s almost like she thought it was a chore. Or a game. Or something she was supposed to do, like a show she needed to put on. I’m glad she’s making her own decisions now and not feeling pressured to be someone she doesn’t want to be.
My cell buzzes again with another text from my sister. YOU GOING TO BE HOME TONIGHT?
I DON’T KNOW, MAYBE.
WHY, she types back. WHERE ELSE WOULD YOU BE?
OUT, I quickly respond. Daisy sometimes gets a little too question-y when it comes to my personal life. I love who she’s becoming and want her happy, but sometimes she crowds me.
MAYBE YOU FORGOT WE’RE VISITING MOM’S GRAVE? She texts.
Oh…yeah, I did. But I don’t type that back or anything, and instead, put away my phone. I have other plans for tonight.
3
IT’S TIME TO meet ole Teddy Bear face-to-face. Teddy lives out in Loudoun County in a small house he inherited from his grandmother. It’s an unfortunate house in that it looks like a kindly old lady threw up all over it. It’s pink and green and complete with delicate latticework, a wraparound porch, white picket fence, rose bushes, and rocking chairs.
Hell, it’s even got cherubs carved into the woodwork.
I’ve been here nearly every night, scoping things out, but tonight is the night I take it further.
I pull my Jeep up behind several other vehicles already here and climb out. I’m glad I’m one county over because if anyone who knew me saw how I’m currently dressed, they’d know something was up.
But I channel Daisy and all her friends for tonight. I’ve watched them enough to know the routine.
In my mini skirt, tank top, high heels, and makeup, I’m wearing the costume that’ll get me in the door, that’ll attract Teddy’s attention. Flipping my hair over, I give it a quick tussle, and then I strut my ass over the stone walkway that leads up to the front door.
Music filters out, and through the windows, I see the same party I’ve seen nearly every night raging on. Without knocking, I turn the knob and stroll right on in.
A deep bass thumps the air that is heavy with the smell of pot. Laughter, voices, and the sounds of a video game hit me from all directions. If the outside looks like a grandmother threw up, the inside looks more like diarrhea complete with doilies, hand-sewn pillows, and antique furniture. I’m not sure why Teddy Bear kept this place looking like Granny, but whatever. To each their own, and all that.
Some high school dude spies me hanging by the door and sidles up. “Hey,” he flirts, giving me what I’m sure he thinks is a sexy once over. “Haven’t seen you here before.”
I smile, flirting right back. “Keg?”
He thumbs over his left shoulder, and I slide past him, making sure our bodies brush, making sure I put a lot of sway in my hips as I stride away. Through the front parlor, I go, and I walk under an archway that leads into the living room.
And bingo. There’s Teddy, all five foot five of him, soft rolls, and shaggy brown hair, relaxed back on a chaise lounge with a girl under each arm, looking like he’s a damn sheik or something. I don’t know how much money he inherited from Granny, but with all the cheap booze scattered about, it’s probably going to last a while.
The girls look about my age and Teddy Bear’s thirty-one. As evidenced by all the girls in the house, he definitely likes them young. He chuckles as the one on his right caresses his crotch, and then he spies me. New meat.
Slowly, I run my tongue along my top lip, drawing him in, then I turn, and trailing my fingers along the wall, I leave the living room and make my way into the kitchen. I’m leaning up against the counter, idly watching the boys around the keg when Teddy takes the bait and sidles in.
He doesn’t waste a second moving right up to me, bracing his hands on both sides of the counter and bracketing me in. I slide my bored eyes off the keg and down into Teddy’s soft face. In heels, I’m punching six feet, and this guy comes to my chest.
“What are you in the mood for?” he whispers, his breath rancid with cheap vodka.
I’ve got my eye makeup done all smoky, and I take a few seconds, really working them, staring at him, pulling him in. His hairy hand on the counter to the right of me slides off and onto my hip and then keeps right on going down past my mini skirt and onto my bare leg.
Flexing my thigh, I lean into his repulsive hand, and he gives me a happy shark smile. “Does the carpet match the drapes?”
What a douche. Did he really just ask me that?
His fingers scoot higher, wrapping around the back of my thigh. I’m tempted to see how far he’ll go, but I need to stick to my plan. So I trail one manicured finger down the center of his soft chest and catch his belt loop.
I give a firm tug, and his erection bumps against me. I almost get impressed that he has one with all the alcohol streaming in his system. “Tomorrow night. Alone. Just you and me. Midnight.” Then I lean down and graze his earlobe with my teeth before pushing past, leaving the house and his hard-on behind.
Once outside I spit his nasty ass ear taste out of my mouth. Tomorrow night, Teddy, you and I are going to have a little meeting of the minds. Incompetence is rewarded more often than not, and he’s about to win the gold medal in stupidity.
4
AT A QUARTER till midnight on the following evening, I pull my Jeep into Teddy Bear’s neighborhood, and I park a few blocks down. Dressed in cargo pants and a long sleeve black tee, I slip the bokken I use in Aikido class down inside its holder that is strapped to my back and beneath my tee.
Inside the right thigh cargo pocket, I place Pepper Spray, in the left a Taser, in the right calf cargo pocket goes my favorite nylon zip ties, and in the left calf pocket, I slip my lockpicks. I wrap my shoulder length curly hair in a quick ponytail and climb out.
Through the dark I jog, and as I step foot onto Teddy’s property I lower the neoprene ski mask over my head. The place sits empty of cars, as I knew it would in Teddy’s expectation of my arrival.
I hop over the white picket fence and head left through his unlit side yard. Up to the back porch I go, and before I even try picking the lock, I rotate the knob and find it open.
I slip into the mudroom, my ears tuned, but hear only silence. Beneath my mask, the stale smell of cigarettes and booze greets me, and I inch further in, now standing in the kitchen. Above the stove shines a yellow light and it illuminates the remnants of last night’s party, or maybe one he had tonight. Teddy may have cleared the house of people in expectation of my arrival, but he didn’t bother cleaning.
A
muffled sound filters through my face mask, coming from the other side of the house. Maybe Teddy isn’t alone after all. If he’s expecting a threesome, he’s pushing his luck. Plus a third person will put a huge kink in my plan.
Through the kitchen and across the living room I go and into the parlor where a door stands open on the other side. Shadows move, something crashes, and the muffled sounds transition into the distinct sound of fighting.
I take a deep breath and let it out slow and steady until I’m cold and focused. I coil tight, inching closer, coming up against the wall. I reach back for my bokken at the exact same second Teddy bursts from the bedroom, fumbling for footing, not even seeing me hovering along the wall. He races past, scrambling for the front door, and out he goes.
Right behind him surges someone else, another man, just a little bigger than Teddy. He catches sight of me in his peripheral vision and spins.
“Who are you?” he demands.
The whole thing happens so quickly, I’m not quite sure where things go wrong. He lunges, a knife out and ready. I block his lunge with my bokken, grab the knife, rotate my wrist, and the next thing I know the knife sinks right into his abdomen.
What the hell?
He makes a small gurgle of surprise before falling to a slump at my feet. It takes me a second of standing and staring down at his body to realize he’s bleeding out.
Shit!
The knife must have severed his abdominal aorta. I take a step back and my brain scrambles. Do I help him? Do I run? I have no clue who this man is.
I take another step back. I have to help him. I’ll find something for compression, dial 911, and get the hell out of here.
I whip around, looking for anything to use as compression. On the other side of the living room, I spy an open door that leads into a bathroom. I hurry across and in and grab all the towels I can find. I cross back over to the stabbed man, and my steps slow as I get closer.
