was completely hidden amid the confusion. Undetectable.
Just the way he liked it.
He loved the hunt; it was what kept him going. But this⦠this was his guilty pleasure.
Watching his workâthe aftermath of a killâexposed to the world.
Of course heâd known it would be. Eventually anyway.
After all, it was a water dumpâ¦in a busy lake. Somebody was bound to come across it sooner or later. The only surprise was how quickly she was found.
But it was hot today, and people had flocked to the lake in droves. So not such a surprise really.
It was okay, though. It was a clean drop. Heâd made sure of that. As usual, heâd been careful. No witnesses, no evidence, nothing to tie it back to him.
Spotless.
Police and fire crews worked in unison to keep the scene contained as they dredged the waters and searched the shores.
He watched as onlookers pushed and shoved, trying to get a better view of what was happening along the waterâs edge. He liked their energy, their insatiable craving for the gory details, no matter how gruesome or unsettling they might be.
And right now, they were ravenous.
He stood as close as he could, listening to them, reveling in that need.
They were talking about his work, about what heâd done, never realizing that he was standing among them.
It excited him. He felt powerful. Alive.
He knew he was taking a chance. He wasnât supposed to be here. Heâd already caught fleeting glimpses of people who knew him, who could, given the chance, identify him. He was glad he was hidden beneath a hat and sunglasses, and he was careful to stay near others in the crowd who were similar to him in size so he wouldnât stand out too much. And in a crowd this large, they came in all sizes.
He let his mind wander as he surveyed those around him, pressed against him. It wasnât hard to find girls he liked, girls he could use. In their skimpy bikinis and ultra-short shorts, revealing smooth expanses of unblemished skin, they were particularly delectable to him. Perhapssomeday he would see them again, in another place, at another time.
But he knew he couldnât stay. The longer he waited, the greater his chance of being discovered, especially in a setting like this.
He ducked his head low and eased his way toward the back of the people straining to get closer. Behind the dark lenses, his eyes darted in every direction, absorbing as much of the scene as he possibly could, so that later, when he was alone with his thoughts, he would be able to recollect each aspect. Each dirty little detail.
Today was a good day.
He had seen enough to hold him. For now.
CHAPTER 6
THAT DAY, THE ONE AT THE LAKE, WAS LIKE THE last day of summerâ¦not just for Violet, but for everyone. And even though the calendar didnât support that argument, the weather cooperated, ignoring the forecasts that had predicted summerlike temperatures, and turning sad and dreary by the following day.
Violet struggled to get through that first twenty-four-hour period. She continued to feel smothered, first by the darkness of night, and then by the oppressive gloom of that endless Sunday. She kept mostly to herself, staying in her room as much as possible, only half listening to the music coming from her headphones, and only half sleeping whenexhaustion overcame her.
Jay called several times, and as much as she wanted to hear his voice, she avoided his calls. She felt like she owed him an apology for what she had forced him to witness, but she wasnât sure what she could possibly say to him to make it better.
She felt like she was sleepwalking through those first painful hours.
The second night came, and sleep finally defeated her. Sheâd tried to avoid it, spending countless hours laying in bed and playing the what-if game over and over in her head. What if she had never seen those haunting colors echoing up from the water? What if she had chosen not to explore them further? Or