This month I’m taking part in the A-Z Challenge! Which means I’ll be writing 26 posts (on set days through the month) each one corresponding to a letter of the alphabet. Today is day 25, which means letter Y.
My theme for the month is: Secret Diary Of A Serial Killer. Each post will be a new chapter in the story – I’m really excited to finally get this novel idea out of my head and into words. I hope you enjoy it! 🙂
We were almost back to the house when I started dreaming of killing Carly. It would have been so simple: kill Capinski – check – then kill Carly and stage her body like the others. Leave some crumbs that lead back to Capinski and I’d get away with it because I’d be in charge of the investigation.
I smiled to myself, but a part of me felt sad for missing out on such a thrill.
Still, being with Johnny was a good consolation prize. And if he hadn’t turned up I’m not sure I could have got the better of Capinski while I was so drugged up.
At least burying his body had given me time to detox – my vision seemed fine, and my limbs were fully under my control.
“How long was I gone?” I said.
“From the time you drove out from the bus station with Capinski, to the time I found you on the floor of the cellar, was around 8 hours,” Johnny said, pulling up to the stone house.
He turned off the engine and faced me, waiting to see what I was thinking.
“He took Carly somewhere in that time frame, probably at work,” I said. “In fact, he probably spent some time at work to show his face and give him more time with us in the cellar.”
Johnny nodded. “Your car and phone didn’t move from here until 2 hours before I found you. He probably brought her here, checked on you, then went to dump the evidence while you were still out of it.”
“Take me to my place,” I said. “Carly should be asleep for a few more hours, and she’s tied up if she happens to wake up sooner.”
“Risky,” said Johnny, raising an eyebrow. But he didn’t argue, he started the car and pulled away from the house.
“I need to change out of these clothes, get some cleaning supplies for the blood, and we should deal with Capinski’s car too.”
“I can do that,” Johnny said. He glanced over at me when I was quiet for too long. “What are you thinking?”
“I was just trying to figure out how to get a confession written from Capinski,” I said, deep in thought. “Maybe I could send an email from his phone?”
“If you have a sample of his handwriting, I know a guy,” said Johnny, pulling up behind my house.
I didn’t ask how he knew my address without me telling him.
“You know a guy?” I said, and laughed.
He grinned. “Go get changed, I’ll call my guy while I wait.”
I stuffed all of my dirty clothes – covered in spiky seeds, soil, and blood – into a garbage bag. Then pulled on new jeans, a black top, and black running shoes. I tied my hair back in a pony tail, and only then did I notice the bruises on my wrists. Nothing some makeup wouldn’t cover, but that would have to wait.
I grabbed some baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt for Johnny to change into, a few cleaning supplies, then he drove us to the bus station so I could get my car.
He got in with me. “I’ll come and deal with Capinski’s car now,” he said, planning to drive it back from the stone house. “My guy said if you can get him a handwriting sample, he can get you a note within the hour.”
I leaned forward and kissed him. It was brief but left us both smiling.
“This ‘someday’ chat better happen soon, you’re killing me here!” I said, laughing, and setting off towards the stone house.
His smile faltered a little, but he didn’t comment.
Reaching back I took the case file from under the passenger seat, and handed one of the basic forms to Johnny.
“That has his handwriting. And the address at the top is the station, maybe it could be sent there?”
“No problem,” he said. He took a picture of the form with his phone and messaged it to ‘his guy’.
I pulled up to the stone house – it’s grandeur had become lost on me. Johnny had Capinski’s car keys and we planned to meet up at the diner the next day. He knew as well as I did that as soon as Carly woke up, she and I would have to ‘escape’, and the police would have questions for us victims all night.
I waved as he drove away, surprising myself at how eager I was to see him the next day.
Walking into the cellar I could hear the faint sound of Carly’s breathing. She looked so peaceful. I ran my hand along her body, mimicking Capinski’s movement from earlier. She shivered. It was slight, but there.
She was awake.