Free SERIAL UNCUT by Blake Crouch, Jack Kilborn J.A. Konrath Page B

woke me up.
    When the waitress brought me the salt, I
asked for my meal to go. The fat guy apparently didn't like that,
because he gave me his back and had an intense whisper exchange
with his buddy; a younger, attractive man in a flannel shirt. The
young guy nodded, got up, and left.
    " Just one last question, Lieutenant,
and then I promise I'll leave you alone."
    I sighed again, glancing at him. "Go
ahead."
    " Did you ever try to take on two
serial killers at once?"
    I popped a curd in my mouth. "Can't say that
I have."
    He smiled, lopsided. "Too bad. That would
have been cool."
    The fat guy threw down some money, then
followed his buddy out.
    No longer pestered, I decided to eat there,
and settled in to eat my cheese curds.

    -5-
    Taylor hadn't ever killed a cop. He came
close once, a few years ago, when a state trooper pulled him over,
and asked him to step out of his truck. Taylor had been ready to
pull his knife and gut the pig, but the cop only wanted him to do a
field sobriety test. Taylor wouldn't ever risk driving drunk, and
he easily passed, getting let off with a warning and pulling away
with a dead hooker in his sleeping compartment.
    But he was itching to get at this cop.
Taylor liked strong women. He liked when they fought him, refusing
to give up. They were so much fun to break. Especially when they
had such adorable feet.
    As Donaldson suggested, Taylor had left the
diner and gone back to his rig to grab the ether. Candi with an i
was still out cold, but she held far less fascination for Taylor
than this new prospect.
    I'm going to have a little
nip of Jack Daniels, he thought, smiling
wildly. Maybe more than one. And maybe not
so little.
    For helping out, he'd let Donaldson
have Candi. While Taylor wasn't into the whole voyeur scene, it might be interesting to watch
another pro do his thing. Hopefully, it didn't involve any sort of
sex, because he had zero desire to see Donaldson's flabby, naked
ass.
    Taylor grabbed the plastic bag--the
ether-soaked paper towels still moist--and met Donaldson in the
parking lot.
    " The best spot is here, in the shadow
of this truck," Donaldson said.
    Taylor didn't like him calling the shots,
but he heard the man out.
    " She thinks I'm a fan," Donaldson
continued, "so I'm going to call her over here, ask for an
autograph. Then you come up behind her with the ether."
    " She's armed. Her purse was too heavy
to only be carrying a wallet and make-up."
    " I saw that, too. I'll grab her
wrists, you get her around the neck. We can pull her to the ground
here, out of sight. How close is your truck?"
    " The red Peterbilt, a few spaces
back."
    " When she's out, we throw her arms
around our shoulders, walk her over there like she's
drunk."
    Taylor shook his head. "Only when we're sure
no one is watching. I don't want a witness getting my plate
number."
    " Fine. We can walk her around until
we're sure we're clear."
    Taylor stared at Donaldson for a moment,
then said, "She's mine."
    Donaldson didn't respond.
    " I'll give you the whore for helping
me, Donaldson. But the cop is mine."
    Donaldson eventually nodded. "Fair enough.
Is the whore cute?"
    " Too old, fat thighs, saggy gut from
popping out kids."
    Donaldson raised his eyebrow. "She's got
kids?"
    Taylor laughed. "You into kiddies,
Donaldson?"
    " Any port in the storm. But you can
have fun with kids in other ways. Did the whore have a cell
phone?"
    " Yeah."
    " Give it here."
    Interested in where Donaldson was going with
this, Taylor dug the phone out of his pocket and handed it over.
Donaldson scrolled through the address book.
    " Calling home," Donaldson told
him.
    " Can't calls be traced?"
    " They can be traced to this cell
phone, but not to our current location. To do that requires some
highly sophisticated equipment--which I highly doubt the local
constabulary possesses."
    " Put it on speaker."
    Donaldson hit a button, and Taylor heard
ringing.
    " Hello?" A child's voice,
preteen.
    " This is Detective Donaldson. I'm
sorry to inform