Excerpt

If his instincts served him correctly, this job would be easier than most. When he had followed her earlier, the poor little darling had a tough time finding a decent parking space. Since the sun wasn’t due to make its debut for hours, the cool weather and hazy sky drove throngs of people to the shops, to the delight of their proprietors. Hot, sunny days kept the tourists flocked around the pools and lakes; so, from a business sense, gray skies and cool temperatures were the merchants’ sunniest days.

Maintaining a safe distance behind, he watched her walk to her car, which she had been forced to park in the last section. Poor thing. She looked exhausted from the long walk. The weight of her shopping bag was apparently too much for the poor woman because she kept shifting it from one hand to the other. He laughed at the sight but was almost tempted to help her. She looked so pathetic. But he shrugged it off. She should have thought of that before she bought all that stuff.

Oliver’s car was in the row behind hers and so far, so good. Not a single person was walking towards or driving into this remote section.

He seized the moment. “Oh, ma’am? Excuse me,” he said politely, feigning shyness. Only steps away from her, he waved a finger and smiled, as though to assure her he was harmless.

Her body tensed as he approached her. Her sunglasses slipped down her nose a bit and he could see her furrowed brows. On the lid of the open trunk, her hand remained frozen.

Still Oliver smiled his boyish smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, ma’am, but I only want to help. There’s a huge bee crawling in your hair, and I—”

Repulsed by the thought, she shook her head violently. “Oh, God, is it still there?” She looked at him pleadingly and Oliver was happy to oblige.

“If you stay perfectly still, ma’am, I’ll get it out. But don’t move. I wouldn’t want it to sting you.”

A second later he was inches away. In that fleeting moment she sensed this was no good samaritan. His sinister smile told her otherwise. She shrieked when she saw the flash of his knife as it slashed the strap of her shoulder bag. Instinctively, she made a desperate attempt to defend herself by digging her nails into his neck.

But the sudden stinging pain fueled Oliver’s anger. This was the first time any of his victims dared to fight back. “What the hell are you, crazy?” he yelled out. Then he too acted instinctively. His left hand gripped her throat, his thumb squeezing her larynx, and his right hand thrust the knife into her neck. He stared at the fear in her eyes, almost as shocked as she was, while her body crumbled. With his heart pumping wildly, he shoved her body into the trunk and slammed the lid, cursing her with every breath he took. Trembling from the shock of what he had done for a damn handbag, he jumped in his own car, pulled a towel out from under his seat and made a futile attempt to wipe her blood off his hands and clothing.

It killed him not to scream out all the profanities locked inside him, but he clenched his teeth instead. If ever there was a time to stay in complete control, this was it. Right now he had to concentrate on getting out of the area slowly and calmly. Once he got over that hurdle, he’d have to find the ways and means of cleaning up the blood and getting rid of the knife before he could return to the resort. The knife could easily be tossed into the lake. The clothes he could burn somehow, but the bloodstains on the carseat . . . well, he’d have to figure that out later. For now, he’d improvise.

He reached back, grabbed his sweatshirt from the back seat and used it to cover the white shoulder bag and the upholstered passenger seat, both stained with blood. While he struggled to drive slowly and appear calm, he eyed the lump under his sweatshirt. That white bag better have enough cash in it to make this f---in’ mess worthwhile, Oliver thought.

* * *

In The Shoppes at Twin Lakes parking lot, a female police officer did her best to calm the hysterical young woman who witnessed the horrific crime. But because of a dead cell phone, she had lost precious time in calling 9-1-1.

The parking lot was flooded with crime scene teams and uniformed officers. All of them worked in concert to seal off the area while technicians from the medical examiner’s office examined the body of the lady in pink who might still be alive if only the sun had shined.