The Killing Game(117)

Andi must’ve changed facial expressions because Carter’s eyes glinted. “News to you, isn’t it? After we learned Greg had left his shares to you, Em and I made a pact to leave ours to each other. No Ben. No one else. No one else,” he repeated, looking at her. “Who’s your beneficiary, Andi? Oh, that’s right. It’s Greg. You never changed it after his death. And since he’s gone, the shares go back to the company.

“Everything’s in place, except you talked to Detective Rafferty. You and Denton. And she’s sniffing around what happened to that suck-up junkie, Lance Patten, and probably Wendy, too.

“You don’t know about them. Wendy was my first real kill.” He glanced away to the middle distance, remembering, she guessed by the satisfied grin that curved his lips. “My old man had insisted I go to that goddamned summer camp. North Lake Junior Camp. I was determined to buy that piece of property even though Greg thought it was too much money, but I won that battle. Can’t wait to tear down every board. Dad had some stupid notion it would be good for me to go there. I had no choice back then but to play along, so I decided I’d play by my own rules. I snuck out every night by canoe.” He sighed through his nose. “Wendy was white trash. Pretty. Nice body, but white trash. I would take her out, f*ck her beneath one of the willows, then sneak her back to her pathetic family on Aurora Lane. Wendy was hot for me. Too hot, as it turned out. She had the gall to keep showing up at the most inopportune times. She had no damned filter and no sense. I made her pretend we didn’t know each other, but she didn’t like it one bit. Had big romantic dreams. Fantasies. Thought I could be her white knight and save her from the poverty of her life.”

He stared at Andi and made a face to show how ridiculous Wendy’s romantic notions were.

“I had to kill her. The last time she walked across the fields to the lake, I met her at one of the other cabins that was empty that weekend. While we were doing it, really going at it, I wrapped the willow branch around her neck and just kept tightening it. Best climax I ever had. Her face all mottled and red, her hands scratching wildly at me. After that, I never looked back. But Lance ... he wanted what I wanted, except he didn’t have the imagination. He got hooked up with a cougar on Aurora Lane, a really feisty older woman, but she wouldn’t look at him after one night with me. Lance and I shared her for a while, but she wasn’t good at keeping secrets. Couldn’t keep her trap shut. I got lucky on that one, though. Somebody else took care of her, so all the talk about me and Lance dried up.”

Andi couldn’t believe the depth of his depravity. She swallowed hard and worked the ties, making slow headway. She had to keep him talking because as soon as he stopped talking about the past, he would get to the present.

And to her.

“Then Lance started getting cold feet. He knew about Wendy. He’d suspected I’d killed her and kept asking about her. Finally I told him the truth. He just stared at me, and then he tried to run away. I grabbed him and held him under. And then I buried him on the abandoned cabin next to my parents’.

“Except . . . the cabin wasn’t abandoned forever. I knew I had to put him somewhere permanently. He’d told me about finding bones in this family’s basement on Aurora Lane, some family with the hot cougar. Swore they were human. I didn’t care if they were or not. I decided to add Lance to the pile. I dug him up and carried what was left of him to their house. Broke open a basement window and tossed him in. Like I said, the game always has surprises.”

He suddenly grabbed her by the chin. “So now, Andi, I have another game. One more in my repertoire, and this time guess who gets to play?”

She didn’t have to.

“That’s right. Finally it’s your turn.”

She glanced at the clock. Nearly two hours had passed. Certainly someone would be looking for her.

He reached into his pocket again and withdrew his knife. Andi couldn’t help herself. She shrank back as he looked at the blade catching light from the fluorescent bulbs. Slowly he slid the blade down the length of her cheek.

“What to play a game, little girl?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and wet. “Want to know how you’re going to die?”

Her heart thumped hard and painful.

“I brought you to the lake for a reason. A purpose. Like the others, you’ll die in water. Like Belinda and Christine and Wendy and Lance. Although I pride myself on changing my modus operandi, keeping everyone guessing, I prefer the water.”

Andi tried and failed to swallow back her fear. He was serious. He was going to kill her. Soon. Here. In the lake.

He let the blade travel lower, along her neck, past her carotid, sliding between her breasts. “It’s no fun if you can’t play, too. So if you can figure out how to escape, maybe you won’t die tonight, you’ll gain your freedom,” he said hoarsely. She could tell he was turning himself on. “But . . . I wouldn’t bet on it.” He looked up at her, his tongue showing between his teeth. “Then you’re mine.”

Egomaniacal psycho!

She set her jaw and pulled at her wrists as his face followed the path of his knife, steamy breath blowing on her breasts and abdomen and crotch. The blade lingered at the juncture of her legs, and then, when she thought she might cry out, he moved quickly, slicing downward, cutting through her shackles.

An instant later he made short work of her manacles as well, and then, to her surprise, he pulled the duct tape from her mouth, ripping some skin, leaving some glue.