Chapter 12
Jenny left the realtor’s office with a stack of printouts of various homes and a befuddled expression. The real estate agent had helped her narrow down the choices, but she still had three dozen possible houses to choose from. The killer had an appointment to visit two of them on her next day off. She looked at the forest of residences in her hand and sighed.
“This is a good idea for long term, but it is going to take forever to find the right place. Plus, it’ll take every penny I’ve got saved to buy one.”
The murderer stared at the MLS sheets until her vision went out of focus. Jenny rubbed the bridge of her nose and folded the pages in half. Starting her car, she picked up a burger and returned to work. She knew she wouldn’t be able to wait until she’d purchased a home to make another kill; she already craved the thrill that controlling another’s demise provided.
Jenny hurried into the store; the hamburger half masticated in her mouth. The manager scowled at her when he noticed her rushing past.
“You’re late, Jenny.”
“Sorry sir.” She mumbled through the dry beef-like mound she was chewing.
The manager rolled his eyes and went back to hovering over the employees in turn. Jenny punched in and scurried to her register. Her first customer reeked of dog crap, sweat, and curry. The killer turned on a bubbly persona and rang the odorous fellow through. The next one handed her over fifty coupons and started unloading two buggies; Jenny fought the urge to offer the previous customer one of the sixteen sticks of deodorant from the first cart.
***
The killer waved goodnight to her coworkers and walked alone to her vehicle. She pictured each of the more aggravating customers—and her manager—dying slowly while she watched. She wondered what it would be like to peel the skin from Martin in tiny strips. The thought excited her so much she made a mental note to try skinning her next victim. At least partially.
Jenny pulled into her apartment complex to find a police cruiser in front of her building. Panic set in as she tried to figure out how the cops had tracked her down. The killer closed her eyes and breathed slow and deep. She would be calm and act normal; they could just want to ask more questions.
She got out of the car and grabbed her bag. The murder weapon was inside with a pair of leather gloves and some black shoelaces. Jenny strode to her front door and relaxed when she saw an officer reading her neighbor his rights. The canine with one of the policemen perked its ears up while she watched the arrest.
Woof. Ruff. Grrr.
“Easy now, Butch. We already got the bad guy. Sit.”
The dog followed his partner’s command, but his gaze never left the killer.
“Sorry if Butch scared you ma’am.” The lawman apologized. “He’s a little riled up. It might be best if you went in your residence. We’re going to be out here for a while searching for other drugs.”
“Okay. Good luck, officer. Good night, Butch.” Jenny said.
The dog sniffed the air but remained seated. The killer couldn’t shake the feeling that the animal knew what she was becoming. The door locked behind her; Jenny exhaled until she felt thinner than a sheet of paper.
“Close one.” She told Figment.
The murderer petted her cat and set about making dinner. As she stirred the pasta, her eye wandered to her growing collection of trophies. The stone, receipt, and one inch cut of wood sat on her bookshelf in plain view. Jenny wondered what new treasure she would find after her next victory.