The Killing Game(94)

The light-rail car rattled into the station and Christine climbed on. Hardly a soul on board. She’d had to damn near stay till eleven to get all the work done. Work she’d put off because she just couldn’t keep her mind on it. Woo-wee! She’d had her share of partners, but Robert had simply screwed her brains out, making her forget them all.

There was a heavyset woman a few seats up, sweating in a cotton twinset even though the temperature was cool. She turned and looked soberly at Christine. Christine almost stuck her tongue out at her, she felt that sassy. She managed to contain herself but not the shit-eating grin she couldn’t control. She thought about Robert’s tongue, and his probing fingers, and the way he’d slammed into her that had gotten her screaming so loudly that he’d covered her mouth with his hand and held it until she could scarcely breathe. She’d been gasping when he finally released her, and then they were both laughing.

“Shhh,” he said, licking her earlobe a few moments later. He’d been ready to go again and Christine had been right with him.

She was still sore and that had been days ago. She’d been thinking of him constantly. E-mailing him because, well, the sad part was he was married and he couldn’t receive phone calls or texts. He was getting a divorce, though, and yes, she knew they all said that, but Robert was sincere. And such a damn good lay!

She looked out the window. The lights of the city flashed by, interspersed with lengths of darkness. She lived way out of town. She was lucky Robert was willing to come all the way to see her. Sometimes she wondered what he saw in her, but then she practically slapped herself. She was still an attractive woman, with a lot to offer a man. She wasn’t beautiful by magazine standards, sure, but really, how many people were? And she had a thin body, not an ounce of fat on her, and maybe that allowed for a few more wrinkles, but gristle? That was just rude. And untrue.

The heavyset woman got off three stops before Christine and then she was alone. By the time the train deposited her on the platform she was in a fever of need and then had a moment of terror when she saw the man in the dark hoodie standing beside her car until he said, “Psst,” and she realized it was Robert.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, relieved and delighted.

“Thought I’d meet you. I came on an earlier train. We can go in your car.”

“Pull that thing back so I can see you,” she said, reaching up to yank the cowl from his face.

He caught her hand and kissed it. “C’mon, get in. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Christine happily climbed behind the wheel and Robert got in the passenger side. She wanted to touch him and couldn’t help running her hand across his broad shoulders.

“Where’re we going?” she asked.

“Marine Drive.”

“What for?”

Marine Drive ran alongside the Columbia River, and at this time of night, given where they were, nothing would be open and there would be only long stretches of unlit road.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Should I—”

“Shhh,” he said, and then he put his hand between her legs and started massaging her in a way that made her go all wet and limp.

“I can’t drive!” she panted.

His soft laughter drove her mad. “Yes, you can. Be careful. Don’t want to go off the road too soon.”

“Too soon?”

“We’ll be parking,” he said, rubbing harder.

It was all she could do to keep the car at a decent speed as they headed east on the two-lane highway. She moaned and arched, wanting to kill him for the sweet torture.

“Over there,” he whispered in her ear, his own breath coming hard and fast.

“Robert . . .”

“C’mon, turn the wheel.”

As she bumped onto the narrow shoulder, she saw the dark water of the Columbia River gliding by down below the slight cliff they were parked on.

“I—” Her words ended in something between a grunt and a shriek as he suddenly tased her. A crackle of light and an electric smell filled the car. She couldn’t move. Was locked in pain like she’d never known. She tried to talk, couldn’t, and then he tased her again. Dimly she heard his laughter.

And then he was out of the car and on her side, opening the driver’s door and pulling her to the stubbly hard ground. Her head banged hard, but that didn’t stop him. He dragged her across the ground by her feet and all she was filled with was disbelief and confusion, too frozen to do anything about it as he rolled her down the steep slope, where she got hung up on a snag, dazed, her feet in the cold water.

She came to enough to see the stars above, a billion lights flung into a black sky. Then he was on her. Yanking off her jeans and panties, unzipping his trousers, his prick already encased in a condom. Then he was thrusting inside her and yelling, “Oh, oh, oh!” in a way she’d never heard before, then groaning in ecstasy at the pinnacle of desire. She realized dimly that he’d been playacting till now. He hadn’t cared about her. He’d been waiting for this moment all along. He’d been an illusion.

“Lovely,” he said and kissed her softly on the lips. “Little bird,” he whispered, then tased her once more and rolled her into the water. She sank beneath the surface but bobbed up in time to see him climbing back up the bank to her car. The interior light flashed on and she saw he was by the driver’s side door. He was pushing her car toward the edge, she realized, getting rid of the evidence. Then she heard the vehicle’s fast descent to the water, the wrench and scrape of metal on rocks and branches, the splash as her Jetta dived into the river.