Ring Around the Rosy (9 page)

“You’re off this assignment
permanently. If you hear about another murder, stay home. Hill’s on it. You
don’t need this kind of hassle. It’s too dangerous.”

Susan’s eyes blurred with tears.
She forced back anger at showing such weakness. Her usual calm reserve had
disintegrated ever since that first phone call. “You can’t, this is my story.
I’m his contact,” she insisted. “I’m okay, honest. It just threw me for a
minute.”

Ernie shook his head. “I don’t
know, Susan, I don’t like you in this position. What if he turns on you? Let
Hill write the next story, we’ll see what happens.”

Arguing with him proved useless,
but if Hill didn’t get to the next crime scene, she was doing the story, no
matter what.

“Hill’s name goes on the next
story, no matter who writes it.” Ernie continued, as if he read her mind.

“That’s not fair,” she protested,
but Ernie held up his hand, palm out.

“I know it’s not fair, but let’s
just see if he makes contact with someone else if their name is on the byline.”
Ernie started to walk away, stopped, and came back. “By the way, Hill’s going
to interview you about those phone calls.” He left, not giving her a chance to
answer.

She stood up, leaving her story
unfinished. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

She raced to the washroom and
chewed herself out for acting like a silly school girl. Throwing cold water on
her face helped compose her. She took a couple more deep breaths. She had to
finish the science story and call Dave.

Ernie would do what he wanted. No
one could change his mind, and acting like a weak, frail woman, who cried about
everything, wouldn’t help the situation. Not that it mattered. If he really
thought she’d stay away from the crime scenes, he had another thought coming.
No way was she ignoring this case. Dan Hill could pound salt for all she cared.

Not going to let Hill to interview
her either. She shook her head and looked around the large office. Her
colleagues lowered their heads when her gaze met theirs.

It could be one of them.

She didn’t know most of them other
than to say hello, couldn’t even remember most of their names. They had permanent
jobs on the paper, staff writers.

She called Dave. He didn’t want
her to go home.

“What does it matter?” she asked.
“He seems to know where I am, anyway.” She couldn’t stay away from her
apartment.
 
Bella and her clothes were
there. Her life centered there. No, she wouldn’t stay away.

“He doesn’t appear to be after me,
anyway,” she argued with Dave. “That’s my home, and I’m not going to allow him
to change my lifestyle — then he wins.” Her old stubbornness returned.

Dave gave in after lecturing her about
keeping the shades drawn, the doors locked, and not letting anyone in but him.
He’d meet her there later.

“And, Susan,” he said, “remember
be observant, be careful.”

A warm sensation filled her
insides. He really acted like he cared about her. Determined not to let the
killer affect her daily life, she went out to her car, only to find another
rose on the dashboard. She had forgotten to lock the car. She looked around,
but didn’t see anyone. Tossing the rose out the window, she tried to shake off
the feeling of gloom and fear.

Her thoughts turned to Dave
instead. Just thinking of him kindled a feeling of contentment and security,
not to mention the sexual appeal. She couldn’t help the attraction. Even though
she didn’t want a man in her life, she enjoyed the attention and his company.
And lord, when he kissed her…talk about intoxicating.
  

She entered her apartment,
whistling, and feeling like a giddy teenager. Dave was coming to see her, and
he had admitted his attraction to her when he took her in his arms last night.

That surprised her.
 
He didn’t appear to be the type to give in to
spontaneity. It seemed out of character for him, but she had recognized his
desire. He had acted strictly on impulse. Of course, then his logical side took
over, and he pulled away.

She hadn’t known this feeling with
many men. Most of them shied away from her because of her obsession with her
career. That had been fine with her. She wanted a career, not marriage and
kids, but Dave was different. He seemed to understand her need, her longing to
become a successful reporter.

Since they had both been eating
fast food the last couple of days, Susan decided to fix him dinner. He’d
probably appreciate a good pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and a salad on the
side.

Surprisingly, her answering
machine wasn’t blinking. No messages. She relaxed and busied herself in the
kitchen and made a chocolate angel food cake, topped with triple chocolate
glaze, for dessert. The opportunity to cook didn’t often present itself, and
she took full advantage of it.

She loved to cook and even pulled
out her best china.
 
This was a special
occasion. Why? She wasn’t sure, but she felt it in her bones.

Susan liked to listen to the news
while she cooked, so the television played softly in the background.

“John Matteo has been released for
lack of evidence. Witnesses were unable to pick him out of a line-up, police
sources said.”

Susan hurried into the living
room, where a film of Matteo leaving the police station next to a man, probably
his lawyer, played on the screen. Since the killer had called while Matteo was
in custody, she knew he wasn’t their man. Of course, the police weren’t letting
that news out.

Changing the station to a home and
garden channel, she remembered her sister’s earlier call, picked up the phone,
and dialed her number.

Clare’s voice quivered when she
answered. Something was terribly wrong. This didn’t sound like Clare, her
happy-go-lucky sister.

Clare’s explanation astonished
Susan. Little Miss Perfect had given in to a whim and had an affair. “I almost
couldn’t tell you, Susan,” Clare said, her voice guilt-ridden.

“I’m so embarrassed.” She went on
to explain how lonely she was. “Not that it’s an excuse, mind you, but Steve
and I have been distant lately, and he’s on the road so much. If he finds out,
he’ll leave me. I just don’t know what to do,” Clare sobbed. “I couldn’t tell
Mom or Kate, but I had to talk to someone.”

“What...” Susan tried to ask a
question. She found it difficult to believe. Clare, an affair? Sweet, perfect
Clare? All Clare had ever wanted was to get married and have a family.

Susan hadn’t known Clare all that
well in their younger years. Four years separated them in age. Clare had gotten
her degree in accounting, but had never worked.

While Clare rambled, Susan thought
about Dave, and wondered what it would be like to be married to him. Not that
she was looking for marriage-that was the farthest thing from her mind. Where
that thought came from, she’d never know.

Seemed as if her hormones were
running rampant. The man turned her on, that much was for sure. Every time she
thought about him, she wanted him more.
 
Okay, so she didn’t have to act on it.

Clare’s sobs interrupted Susan’s
thoughts, and she turned her attention back to the conversation. Not that she
could get a word in edgewise. Clare didn’t want advice. Apparently, her sister
just needed someone to listen.

Susan remembered her surprise a
couple of weeks ago when Clare told everyone she had taken a job as an
accountant. Thinking back, Susan remembered the discontent Clare had expressed.

Susan had never understood how
fun-loving Clare had been content not working. But she had seemed happy being
homemaker, wife, and mother. The PTA and volunteering more than satisfied her
need to socialize. Not Susan’s cup of tea, but to each his own.

What could she say to her sister?
She didn’t have any experience in these things. Heck she didn’t even have any
experience in a relationship, serious or otherwise. Dave was the closest thing
to a boyfriend she ever had. The unexpected news of the fling confused her.
Especially since Clare said it was the main reason she had looked for a job.
Clare had kept it a secret a long time. Now lunch the other day made sense.

“You did what?” Susan couldn’t
help it. What the heck was her sister thinking?

“Look, Susan, I didn’t call to
have you criticize me. I called for your help. Why do you always have to be so
critical?”

“Me, critical?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Excuse me, Miss Perfect...”

Clare didn’t let Susan finish. “I
guess I was wrong. I shouldn’t have called you. I expected more sympathy. I’m
gonna go—”

“Clare, wait. I’m sorry. You’re
right. I was being critical. But darn, girl, what were you thinking?” Susan
tried to smooth things over. “You have everything you ever dreamed of — a husband,
kids, a beautiful home.”

“Oh yeah, I have it all. You’re
right. It’s all I ever dreamed of. But I didn’t have me. An identity of my own.
All I am is someone’s wife, someone’s mother. I need more than that.” Clare
took a breath, and went on before Susan could say anything else.

Susan hated to hang up, her sister
sounded so upset, but she needed to finish dinner. “Okay, Clare, calm down. I
can’t talk right now, but I’ll get back to you,” she promised. “In the
meantime, try to relax and enjoy your new job.”

Susan shook her head. Poor Clare.
She had no idea her sister felt that way. Clare always seemed so content — so
in-control and happy. Still, she couldn’t believe Clare had given into a whim.
She would have bet her life Clare had more control than that.

Too bad Clare hadn’t found the job
before she gave in. Clare was right about one thing; Steve would never forgive
her if he found out.

Chapter Seven

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a
pail of water. Jack fell down and broke his crown. And since Jill followed you
everywhere, she had to tumble after.

Killing two proved a challenge.
But he liked challenges. Always had. The more challenging, the better. He knew
their routine and waited in the park. Every evening they walked together, hand-in-hand,
like lovers. It sickened him to watch them, so lovey-dovey. He had watched them
for weeks. Knew what time they went to work, to the grocery store. Every
evening proved the same. They left the kids with a neighbor and walked — just
the two of them. He followed them. They never changed their pattern — always
walked the same path.

He rubbed his hands together. They
itched to begin. Itched to feel the life and breath go out of his victims.
Everything was ready. This time he’d get them.

He didn’t have long to wait. He
knew he wouldn’t. Right on time, just like clockwork. He waited until they got
closer, and sprang out from behind the trees.

Jill jumped back and screamed. He
knocked Jack to the ground, hit him on the head with a rock, and knocked him
out. Jill ran to her husband.

He grabbed her, pulled her away
from Jack, put his hands around her slender neck, and squeezed. She tried to
fight him, but she was no match for his strength. It didn’t take long. The
dawning of her fate showed in her eyes just before she gasped her last breath.
He let her fall to the ground.

“Not so high and mighty now, are
you? You, with your short cheerleader skirt, flirting with all the boys,
teasing them and then running off with Jack.”

He turned his attention back to Jack.

Jack would have put up more of a
struggle if he hadn’t knocked him out. If he didn’t have Jill to contend with,
he would have enjoyed the battle. He put his hands around Jack’s throat and
tightened them. Jack came to for just a moment. Long enough to see his face.
Not that it mattered — none of his victims were alive to identify him.

Jack’s head fell to the side, the
life gone out of him. He gave an extra squeeze just to make sure before he
released him. He dragged Jack’s body to the small mound, the best thing he
could find for a hill. He positioned it the way he wanted, went back for Jill,
and dragged her body next to Jack’s. He pushed her against Jack, watched their
heads bump, and laughed.

He took a bucket out of his
knapsack and smashed it on top of Jack’s head, and stuck the rhyme in Jill’s
hand.

“There you go, Mr. Big Shot. Now
who’s in charge? Thought you were smarter than everyone else, didn’t you. Look
how smart you are now. Who in their right mind takes their wife for a walk this
late at night? Just begging for trouble. Well, you found it.”

He slapped the bucket, pushed Jill
closer to Jack with his foot, laughed, and ran off. He pulled it off. Now
they’d know how smart he was. They’d see what they were dealing with.

* * *

Dave arrived about seven, earlier
than Susan expected, but dinner was ready.

“Hmm, something smells good,” he
said when she opened the door. “Hope it’s for me.” He leaned over and kissed
her cheek as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to do.