Free The Tangerine Killer by Claire Svendsen Page B

face and her eyelids grow heavy. Then she staggers home.
    He knows how to follow someone without being caught, after all he’s been doing it his whole life but this time is different. He makes his presence known just enough to scare the whore. First he just follows her, tracking every move she makes. The strip clubs where she picks up the men who pay her for sex. The park. The drugs. Her home. It’s a sad, endless, repetitive loop.
    He starts to go inside. Moves things around. Takes a few mementos. The panties she wore when Frank fucked her up against the car. Those are special to him. Apparently not to Jill. She doesn’t even notice they are missing. He has to swipe the emergency stash of heroin she keeps in her nightstand before she realizes anything is wrong. That’s when she really flips out. She runs straight to Sam just as he knew she would.
    He doesn’t hang around long enough to watch the scene play out, he can’t risk being seen. He only stays long enough to see Sam reluctantly let the slut into her room. She opens the door in a bathrobe and nothing else. He’s aroused but pushes the feeling aside. He has to stay focused. He can’t afford to make any mistakes.
    Everything in the basement is ready. His tools sterilized and prepped by the stainless steel table he ordered online. He has candles and incense on an old wooden crate in the corner. He feels it’s a nice touch. Just one trial run and then he’ll be ready.

NINETEEN
     
     
    Jill slept curled on my bed like a cat, her breath soft and whispering. Sleep was the last thing on my mind. I stood with the door propped open, smoking my way through the last pack of cigarettes.
    She hadn’t given me anything more to go on and finally passed out in the middle of a sentence. It didn’t take much to figure out she’d been high on something. The bloodshot eyes, the loss of focus. She probably wouldn’t stick to her story in the light of day when the drugs wore off.
    By the time the sun broke over the horizon, I was on my third cup of stale coffee and out of cigarettes. I kicked the bed frame and Jill stirred.
    “What time is it?” she mumbled.
    “Eight.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    She shuffled up the bed, eyes wide and bleary as she looked around.
    “Take a wild guess.”
    She just sat there fidgeting.
    “Come on, you’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Lies Jill. I’m talking about lies.”
    “Everyone lies.”
    She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. As she stretched her arms above her head I saw track marks running up her arm. A couple of them looked infected.
    “So everyone lies do they?”
    It was a rhetorical question but I knew she was right. I lived a life full of lies and deceit. Who was I to expect others to conform to rules even I didn’t abide by?
    “I know what you want but I don’t know anything,” Jill shook her head.
    “Then why did you come here?”
    I jumped on the bed, resisting the growing urge to hurt her. I had to stay in control.
    “Tell me what you know,” I said.
    “I told you, I don’t know what’s going on.”
    She was calm, her voice steady as she spoke. Her composure only made me doubt her more.
    “You said you knew who had killed Lisa. Who was it?”
    “I don’t know. I lied,” she stuttered.
    “No, I don’t think you did. I think you know exactly who killed her and I think maybe it was you.”
    “It wasn’t. I swear.”
    “Then who was it?”
    I leant over her and she fell back onto the pillows in an attempt to get away from me. I was starting to get to her. I could tell she thought I was crazy.
    “Okay, if you get out of my face I’ll tell you.”
    I did but not by much. I didn’t trust her.
    “It was Faye.”
    “Faye? You’re joking right? Why would she kill her only daughter? What did she do, push Lisa off the bridge and into the river? I highly doubt it.”
    “No.”
    Jill looked straight at me and I thought I saw a flicker of