A Killer's Mind (Zoe Bentley Mystery #1)(67)

“We . . . have . . . no . . . friendship,” she said through gritted teeth as she pushed the desk. It was halfway across the room now. So heavy. She recalled her dad dragging it across the floor effortlessly. She hadn’t realized how strong he was.

“Zoe! Open the door right now! Or I’ll call your parents and tell them how you’re behaving.”

“Call them!” she yelled, her voice breaking, and gave the desk another push. The corner now touched the door.

There was silence, except for Andrea’s sobbing. “We’ll be okay, Ray-Ray,” she said, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

There was a crash, and the door shuddered even more than before. He was trying to break down the door. Panicking, she gave the desk a heave. She managed to push it against the door, holding it tight. She leaned against the desk, hoping her own weight would help. Her heart thundered in her ears.

There was a series of loud thumps. He was kicking the door. To her relief, it seemed to hold. She heard him cursing.

“Zoe, if you open the door right now, things will go much easier on you.”

“Like they were for Clara?” she asked. “And Jackie? And Beth?”

“It was terrible, what happened to those girls,” he said beyond the door. “I hope the police find the killer soon.”

“They will!” she screamed. “I told them everything. They said they’ll check you out.”

He laughed. A high-pitched, unbalanced laugh. “Did you? Because I don’t see the police here. No, they are after the real killer, right? That Manny Anderson kid.”

Andrea began to cry loudly.

“Is that your sister, Zoe? Open the door, and I promise you nothing will happen to her. But if you don’t . . .”

Zoe left her position by the desk and leaped on the bed, wrapping her hands around Andrea.

“Don’t worry, Ray-Ray. He can’t hurt us,” she whispered, hugging her sister tight.

“I would never kill anyone,” Glover said behind the door. “What made you think I would do such a thing? Those magazines? It’s just adult stuff. I bet your dad has some of his own.”

Zoe covered Andrea’s ears, gritting her teeth furiously. “What convinced me were the souvenirs you kept. And the gray ties.”

There was silence. “Gray ties?” Glover finally said.

“I know what you did with them, Glover! I have a phone in here. I’m calling the cops right now.”

He laughed again. “No, you don’t. I’ve been to your room, remember?”

Her skin crawled when she recalled it was true. She had invited him to her room once to show him the track trophy she’d won at school.

Footsteps getting further away, the front door opening and slamming. She rushed to the window, made sure it was locked. Would he try to break it and enter the room from there? She didn’t think so; someone would hear the glass pane breaking. He wouldn’t risk it.

She hoped.

“I’m scared,” Andrea whimpered.

“Shhhh, I’m here, Ray-Ray. You have nothing to be scared about.”

They waited in silence. After what felt like hours, she considered leaving the room to call the police. She got up, was about to shove the desk away, when a thought occurred to her. She reached out and turned the key in the lock.

Almost instantly the doorknob twisted, and the door juddered against the desk. Shrieking, she locked the door again. He hadn’t left at all. He’d almost tricked her. Almost.

There was another laugh from behind the door. Not even a laugh. A giggle. A demented, tortured giggle. “Zoe, open the door. Can’t stay in there forever, Zoe.”

She couldn’t, but she didn’t need to. Just until Mom and Dad came home. How much longer . . . ?

“Zoe,” he said. His voice changed. Softer. Angrier. The voice of a killer. “If I need to break this door, you’ll regret it, Zoe.”

Shaking, she looked around for a weapon—any weapon. She saw none. She used to have a baseball bat in the room when she was ten, but she’d gotten rid of it when she stopped playing. Stupid. So stupid.

“You know what I do to women who make me angry, Zoe,” he said, and there was another giggle. “You might like it.”

Andrea sobbed, eyes shut tight. Zoe hurried to her side, covered her ears again.

“Beth liked it. She moaned when I shoved myself inside her. She acted like she hated it, but I could feel how much she loved it. She loved it, Zoe.”

She wished she had four hands. She wanted to cover her own ears as well as her sister’s.

“Do you think you would like it, Zoe? When I rip your shirt and your pants? When I give you what you want, bitch? Would you moan like Beth did?”

She was crying as well, sobs of fear and horror, her hands plugging Andrea’s ears tightly, hoping she wasn’t hearing any of it.

“Do you think little Ray-Ray would like it?”

“You stay away from her!” Zoe shrieked, tears of fear and anger in her eyes.

The same giggle. “Oh. You wouldn’t like that, would you? Maybe I should start with her. Open this damn door, or I start with her, Zoe.”

She got off the bed and flung open the window. The freezing cold outside chilled her bones.

“Help us!” she cried desperately. “Help! Police! The killer is here. Help!”