Excerpt
Prologue Saturday, April 19th…
Chicago was enjoying another spring day with temperatures in the cool seventies. But the man with evil on his mind was perspiring like he was in a sauna. At 11:00 a.m., he parked his car in the crowded lot and walked to the front of Andre’s Fine Food Store. Pausing, his eyes darted around nervously at the people passing by. A young mother pushing her baby in a stroller, an elderly couple, a teenaged boy arm-in-arm with his girlfriend. Do they know what I’m thinking – planning? In a moment of doubt, a voice inside spoke to him. Calm down, this is what you want, what you’ve always wanted. You will soon pluck the fruit from the vine; strip the branch of its berries. He took a puff from his cigarette and then another – eyes peeled to the front of the store, body rigid but eager.
Health conscious young women thriving on organic foods or natural meats and poultry patronized the store, ones with sinewy muscles and strong spirits, powerful and erotic…. Today he would make his selection, and then, when the time was right, lure her into his trap. She would graciously welcome him into her home, so unaware…so vulnerable. Before she could connect the dots, he’d grab her, force her onto the bed as she kicked and screamed; eyes wide and frightened like a wounded animal caught in a snare. His soothing words would give her hope, that if she cooperated, he’d spare her life.
The thrill of the hunt erased all doubt. He flicked the cigarette to the sidewalk and entered Andre’s. Grabbing a grocery cart, he began at the rear of the store and worked his way through the aisles towards the front, scoping out prey. How ‘bout this one – the woman reading the label on a soup can? Too young, he mused. Too fleshy. She must be a lean thoroughbred.
At the produce section, he fondled the firm tomatoes as though they were his victim’s breasts. The hard-skinned watermelons reminded him of the taut stomach she’d need. Stroking a firm eggplant brought euphoria and glassy eyes. An older woman by the carrots looked at him strangely. Not wanting to blow his well-oiled plan, he decided he needed a distraction, something to help him stay the course. He shoved the cart to one side and made his way to the small eating area next to the deli/bakery with round white tables and pink soda fountain chairs.
Ignoring several giggling teenage girls slurping smoothies, he paid the middle-aged woman behind the counter, took his latte and blueberry muffin, and found a table away from the girls with a view of the door. Before he’d even sunk his teeth into the muffin, she entered the store. Miss America in every sense of the word. God, she was mouthwatering; petite with straight broad shoulders, head held high – riveting self-confidence. Her lengthy brunette hair was pulled back in a ponytail; her face clear of makeup. Bouncy and youthful-looking in white sneakers, a clinging white tee and hot pink shorts dotted with perspiration, he figured she’d probably just finished working out at a health club.
She stopped at the meat counter and struck up a conversation with one of the butchers who wrapped a fresh chicken and handed it to her. She smiled and continued shopping. At the fresh flower display, a bouquet of bright red roses made it to her cart. In the candy section, the woman thought about buying a box of tempting chocolate truffles, then quickly put them back on the shelf. The man was close enough to see she wore no wedding rings. He could also clearly see her luscious full lips and small sloped nose.
Oh, God, she’s heading my way! He stiffened in his chair as she stopped at the counter and ordered something from the same woman who had just waited on him. Take it easy, man! You’re doing fine. Don’t blow it now that you’re getting so close.
She paid for her health drink and sat down at a table in back of him. He finished his latte and went to his car. There he sat impatiently, thumping his fingers against the steering wheel…and then, after what seemed like an eternity, she pushed through the glass doors and out to her light beige Jag. His breathing quickened. Starting the engine, he pulled to the end of the row where his princess was parked. Several car lengths away, she backed out the shiny vehicle – immaculately clean – no fingerprints on the windows left from children with gooey hands. Everything in his gut told him she was single with no baggage.
He kept a discreet distance as she wound her way through the streets and pulled into the West Winds apartments. I’m impressed, my sweet, nothing but the best for you; luxury all the way, he said of the apartment, the neighborhood. I’ll bet you have satin sheets on your bed and a feather pillow to lay your lovely head. And why wouldn’t you? You deserve the very best.
In the parking lot, she pulled into her spot and exited the expensive car. The shoulder strap of the purse crossed her left breast, and his mind filled with thoughts of exposing her warm flesh, to tickle it with his tongue…. She went to the street entrance, unlocked the door and disappeared into the complex. He stepped on the gas pedal, turned into the parking lot and pulled up to her Jag. Quickly, he jotted down the license plate number and sped away.
When he arrived back at his own home, he went to his PC and keyed in her license plate number on the state government website.
Kimberly Waters…thirty years old…and she would soon be his….
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