Page 99 of Random in Death
Yeah, he knew who she was, what she was, how she thought, what she felt. Sometimes, she figured he knew all that better than she did. Or at least more clearly.
And he loved her anyway.
She walked over, put her arms around him, hugged hard and tight.
“This is for stuff, and especially the spaghetti, because I’m not hugging Summerset.”
“I’ll happily be his proxy. And I’ll remind you there’s pie.”
“I might just let you, as proxy, get your hand on my tit for cherry pie. But later, both counts.”
With her chin on his shoulder, she studied the board.
“I want him up there. I want him in the box. I want him in a cage. I can see him now. Doofus dooser incel psychopath who still doesn’t shave. Short guy syndrome. Rich white kid snot, on the puny side. Something not right, not quite right in his eyes, but they don’t see it. Or if they do, they figure it’s all that smart, not all that sick.”
Drawing back, she circled the board. “The teachers, tutors, they think: If only all the students were as bright and well-mannered as this kid. Work’s always turned in on time, goes the extra mile.”
She circled back, stood, hands in pockets. “Parent, parents, guardian, whoever’s in charge. Busy life, professional, successful. That boy never gives me any trouble. I’m so lucky. Never talks back, never misses curfew. He’ll have his pick of universities in a couple years.
“I bet there’s a housekeeper or nanny or— Is middle teens too old for a nanny?”
“I would think so.”
“Something like that. Because busy, professional, successful.” Pausing, she played with that one. “Maybe that’s who buys the clothes, takes care of selecting his clothes. Maybe an older person, trustworthy. But he’s almost college age now, doesn’t need someone sitting on him. He can come and go. He’s got those exceptional grades, never misses curfew—if he has one.”
“Wouldn’t they want to know where he is, who he hangs with, what he does with his free time?”
“Library, study group. He’d lie smooth enough if he needs to. And he could have a way to come and go so they don’t notice he’s gone.
“If they’ve heard about the girls, and that’s probable,” Eve concluded, “it would never cross their minds he’s responsible. Most adults just see a well-dressed, polite kid. It’s the other kids who see him for the outsider, the not one of us. He can be cerebral, not astute but smart, and still know what they think of him.”
“Rage builds.”
“It builds,” Eve agreed. “And I worry, not just that he’ll kill again. That’s inevitable if we don’t find him first. I worry he’ll have to escalate. The quick jab and escape, even with the media attention that follows, won’t be enough.”
“As you said, he’ll want the girl.”
“He’ll need the experience, what they’ve all denied him. Incapacitate the girl, rape the girl, kill the girl.”
He’d thought of it. Dreamed of it. But he held back.
He’d weighed risk and reward, and wisely, he thought, concluded risk weighed more, a great deal more.
But how would he know, for certain, conclusively, without the sample?
Rather than alleviating the craving, the successful conclusions of his project only increased it.
But tonight, he’d hold back again.
He’d added the trench coat tonight. He’d seen other kids wear similar in this venue, as it tended to be cold inside, even when crowded as it would be tonight.
Big night at the vids with the opening of what would surely be the summer’s biggest hit, yet another ridiculous, scientifically impossible installment of the Defenders franchise.
A bunch of misfit aliens from across the galaxy, all gifted with absurd powers, who defended Earth from evil.
And all that utter nonsense.
Personally, he rooted for the evil, which tended to be more interesting.