Page 22 of The Neighbor

For a moment, I look around to see if anyone’s heard her, but we’re still alone. I need to get this done quickly, though. No enjoying my time tonight.

Furious she’s ruined this for me, I throw her down to the ground and immediately jump on top of her. Her fingernails claw at my face and neck, and she screams like a madwoman. It won’t matter in a few seconds, though.

Wrapping my hands around her throat, I squeeze hard, needing to shut her up before someone hears her pleas for help. She continues to thrash like a wild animal, her hands pummeling my face and ears, so I squeeze even harder.

Now I just want this fucking thing over. She’s spoiled this, so now she needs to pay. Bitch.

My thumbs press into her flesh just above her collarbone. I feel her heart beating wildly against my fingertips. That will end soon. Everything will for Tess.

I watch in the moonlight as the life begins to fade from her wide eyes. Fear is replaced with the knowledge that it’s almost time. No more worries about work or wishing she could have gone to college. No more anything. Just peace.

Her arms rest against my chest and then slide down to her sides as her last breaths leave her body. Tess falls still beneath me, her eyes staring up blankly into mine right before she dies.

And then it’s over.

I release her neck and sit back on the damp ground covered with decaying leaves. I want to be able to sit here and enjoy myself like I did with Amanda, but I worry someone heard Tess screaming.

So instead, I stand up to leave, eager to get the hell away from here, but the tang of blood hits my tongue when I lick my lips. Wiping under my nose, I see blood. She caught my skin when she was fighting me.

Bitch.

I can’t just leave her here. Someone will find her too soon. We may have been seen walking into the woods together. It won’t take a genius to finger me as the one who did this to her.

No, I need to hide her somehow.

Frantically, I look around for a place to put her, but there’s nothing around. I pace back and forth past her body as my mind races about what to do. There has to be some way to hide her.

Then I spy a piece of fallen tree. It’s not big enough to stuff her inside, but it may be enough to dig a hole. Jumping over her, I lift it off the ground and feel it’s hard.

I use it as a shovel to carve out a shallow grave for her beneath the layer of rotting leaves, and when it’s deep enough, I push her in with my foot. She rolls into the hole like she’s turning over in bed and lands face down.

For a second or two, I stare down at her and imagine that beautiful face mushed into the dirt. If only she hadn’t screamed I wouldn’t have had to do this to her. She could have been found looking as beautiful as she always was, like Amanda was when they found her.

I hurry to cover her with the mixture of earth and dying leaves, and the scent of the mixture fills my nose until I don’t think I can stand it for a moment longer. Stepping back, I study my work, but I’m not happy. Anyone walking through here in broad daylight is going to notice this ground’s been disturbed.

What I need are more of those leaves. I push them around with my foot until the area is covered as well as it’s going to be. Unless someone is looking for a freshly dug grave, I doubt anyone will notice this for a long time.

And with that, I rub my hands together to get rid of the dirt on them and turn on my heel to leave. It wasn’t how I imagined it would be, but I’ll change that when I think about it later in bed tonight.

Then she’ll be soft and willing. She’ll be beautiful staring up at me as the last bit of life drains from her face.

She’ll be just like Amanda was when I killed her.

9

Another ninety-degree Augustday gives me a good reason to stay inside. The real reason I don’t want to see any of my neighbors has far less to do with the weather and far more to do with feeling exposed after all that forced friendliness at the party and that bizarre encounter with Aaron. I can’t let people know too much about me. That only leads to them asking questions about things they shouldn’t know about.

The air conditioning feels good as I sit down at my desk. It’s Sunday, so I won’t be working today. That doesn’t mean I won’t be searching for anything and everything I can find out about Caroline Townsend, though. After last night’s resounding success learning all about crazy Aaron, I feel good about today’s prospects to finally reveal just who the beautiful woman in the green house truly is.

That’s what I’ve decided his nickname needs to be. Crazy Aaron. Ever since I moved here, I’ve felt bad for him because his story is truly tragic. Last night changed that, though. It’s one thing to be a sad guy. It’s something else completely to be showing up on your neighbor’s doorstep—a neighbor who’s beennothing but respectful, by the way—and creeping him the hell out with bizarre questions about what God sees and knows.

No thanks. Now he gets to be Crazy Aaron, and I plan to stay as far away from him as possible.

Lifting my arms above my head, I stretch and then crack my neck before I open my laptop. Caroline’s secrets won’t stay hidden from me any longer. I can devote every hour of this day to finding out exactly who she is and what she’s hiding.

I glance over at the window and see Kimmy and her brood in the street. It looks like she’s headed over to Marilyn’s. Jesus, please don’t let this be for another party. Isn’t the next one in September? That’s what she said last night. I need at least a month to recover from yesterday’s.

Instead of walking to Marilyn’s, they turn and make their way to Caroline’s. I notice Kimmy seems to be walking a bit slower today. She keeps shifting baby Misty from her right hip to her left, and as I watch her try to corral those boys, I see she’s limping. Something’s wrong with her right leg.