Slowly coming out of my sleep, I was groggy as hell. The light in the room indicated that it was early afternoon, and I felt like I’d been asleep forever. I felt rested, but still very slow in my movements as I sat up.

A blanket was thrown over me. Something that I couldn’t remember reaching for or even being near the couch. Given the passage of time, I assumed my mother had come home at one point or another. She was probably out in the yard or taking her own nap.

I swung my legs over the couch and sat up completely, wishing I hadn’t. My head was pounding from a headache of massive proportions. Wincing, I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water, then headed to the bathroom to find some pain relievers.

Pills taken and after washing my face, I made my way back to the kitchen table that my phone was sitting on. Looking at it, I sat down to scroll through some missed calls. All blocked numbers. I hit the button for my voicemails, set the phone on the table and put it on speaker.

“You’re a perfect ten you know,” the first recording said, and my eyes popped open at the sound of the scratchy voice speaking. It was like he was speaking through a tunnel and the voice was muffled. “I came to check on you. I thought we would chat, but apparently you had a reaction to the drug I gave you. I wasn’t disappointed, though. I wondered if you would know what day it is. Why it’s an important day. I took some pictures to celebrate. Two halves to make a whole.”

I took a deep breath and slowly scanned the house. It felt cramped and somewhat foreign suddenly. He’d been in my fucking house.

My hands started to shake as I thought about what he’d said. I looked at the date on my phone and noted that nearly an entire day had passed. Not just a day but almost an entire twenty-four-hour period. Even worse, I couldn’t remember a thing.

A tear slipped down my face as I opened my mouth.

What the fuck? What the fuck?

Turning around, I stood up and started examining everything, to see if there was anything out of place. Something to tell me he’d been here. Everything looked so normal, nothing touched.

There was a knock at the door that startled me. I walked toward it apprehensively and after looking through the window, I opened it.

Richard was standing on the porch.

“Rick!” I cried and clutched my chest.

“Suzanne? Are you okay?” he asked as he reached for me. His hand slipped around my arm and held me steady, while I tried to get a hold of myself.

I nodded. “It's just not a good time right now. I need to call the police. What are you doing here?”

“You look awful. I can wait with you or take you to them. I was stopping by to tell you about Muse. I live about a block away and saw you here a few times. They have an opening for management. I just thought you might be interested.”

I moved back into the house and sat down on one of the chairs in the living room. “I’m sorry, I have to sit down. I just can’t right now.”

He moved into the house and crouched down beside me, feeling my forehead. “I think you may be really sick. I’m going to take you to the hospital.”

“The police…”

“They have a horrible response time. I’ll take you. I’m going to pick you up and put you in the car. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Rick, thank you. I don’t know what to say. You know, you’ve been really nice. I thought after Cade…when he went missing, I guess, I didn’t want to work for anyone else. I was a bitch, I’m sorry.”

“Cade’s never been gone though, right?” he asked in a pleasant tone. “He never really was missing. The news reports got some things wrong, didn’t they?”

It took a moment for my brain to process what he’d said. I stared at him, wondering if I’d heard him correctly.

“Well, no, not really, I guess.”

He pursed his lips for a moment. “Let me get you some water before we go.”

Stepping through the living room with ease, I heard him open and shut the fridge before he came back to my side. When he crouched down in front of me I took the water from him and started to drink.

“Thanks,” I said, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Anytime,” he smirked. “Why do you need the police?”

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I was sleepy again. “There’s someone that was in here. He left a message. And I’ve been asleep for a day.”

The words in my mouth felt heavy as I said them. Like my lips moved but they were sluggish somewhat with the effort. I wasn’t sure why, and it didn’t make sense to me. None of it did. Not the last twenty-four hours or the message on my phone. Even Rick being here seemed a bit surreal. Things were off kilter.

Rick glanced around for a moment. “Anything missing?”

“No, I don’t think so. But I think he did something.”

“Do you remember anything?”

“No,” I said, as I shook my head. Lifting the bottle of water up in my hand, I noticed that half the water was missing. I didn’t remember drinking that much, but as upset as I was, I could have downed the entire thing and probably wouldn’t have known.

“Hmm,” Rick replied.

“The water,” I said. “Was it capped?”

“Well, no, not really. They had caps on them, but the seals were broken. Not something you would notice perhaps. Especially with a forgetful mother that probably does some strange things from time to time. I wondered if she would drink them, honestly. It would have set some things back.”

I stared at him unblinking for a moment.

He gave me a sly smile. “You had four of those bottles yesterday.”

“How do you know…”

“I study things. It’s important for me to get things just right. Perfect in fact. I learned that early on in life. If you fit into what people expect, they primarily leave you alone. Or as a bonus, you can manipulate them the way you want things to go. At that point, they don’t really know that they’re fitting into your own definition of perfection.”

Perfect. He used the one word that sent chills up my spine. He knew things, studied things and there was absolutely no reason why he should have known about the water, or Cade never really being dead.

I let out a deep breath and tried to move back from him, but there wasn’t much I could do in the chair. Rick just watched me as if he found the attempt interesting, but useless.

“My parents, were the complete opposite of perfection. Slovenly drunks. Emotionally crippled by alcohol, and later drugs. They despised their children and meted out punishments like a sporting event. By the time I saw it and understood it, they had driven my brother over the edge. I happily stayed out of the way and became what they wanted me to be. The perfect child. Never a bother. And willing to do whatever they wanted for a time.”

“You’re…who are you?” I asked, knowing the answer, but not wanting it to be true.

“Well, I’m not Richard Smalley, if that’s what you’re asking. Again, if you play the role of a somewhat awkward and idiot manager, for a pisshole bar in the middle of nowhere, you have to expect some ridicule.”

“Where is my mother?” I asked, panicking at the truth of what I now knew. “What have you done to her?”

“Relax,” he said, with an amused smile. “She was here earlier, otherwise I would have visited sooner. In fact, I saw her next door a few minutes ago. I would have introduced myself, if she hadn’t been leaving in a car. How do you feel about your own mother not having the ability to know that something was off about your sleeping habits? I mean, if she’d raised the alarm, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Don’t fucking touch my mother,” I hissed.

He shrugged like it didn’t matter if he did or didn’t, which made my stomach flip in disgust.

He winked at me. “It might have played out rather well had she been here, but as it is, I think this will work just the same.”

“How the fuck did you get past security?”

He chuckled. “You’re kidding, right? Mr. Latimer’s security wouldn’t know where to piss if they weren’t directed. Lazy. And an old friend visiting doesn’t exactly raise suspicion.”

I shook my head, trying to dismiss what he was telling me. “Who are you, really? If you’re not Richard, then who the fuck are you?”

His mouth curved up in the corner slightly like he was amused at my discomfort.

“Garrett Shepard. Cade’s brother, but I think you were figuring that out, weren’t you?”

There was a question in my mind when he described his home life, but my brain refused to believe it. “You killed all those women though. How can…”

He shrugged in a carefree manner. “How am I his brother? The normal way. Two awful people produce the sons of hell and try to break them over time. What they didn’t know, was that I was already broken. They found out eventually.”

“But you’re a killer. You’ve killed nine people. You can’t be his brother.”

“I am, though. How does one puppy have spots and the other one doesn’t, yet they were birthed from the same set of genes? He’s a violent man, hostile in fact. He fights it, but I’ve observed him long enough to know that if given the right amount of pressure in his younger years, he would have been the same type of monster that I am.”

“Never. He'd never be like you.”

He chuckled like we were having a normal conversation and it disturbed me even more. He'd seemed so normal. The façade that he’d put in front of the world for the duration of his stay in Lakefield was flawless. Even now, he acted like these facts and this situation was nothing more than a chat between friends.

“Oh, I beg to differ, sweet Suzanne. He’s one tick away from going into full meltdown and showing who he really is. I thought it might happen sooner rather than later, but he met those idiots in the military. When he left our house, he was a drunk. I expected to find him caught up in his own misery, wallowing in self-depravation. Instead I found that he was, maybe not happy, but whole.”

He stood up and nonchalantly started moving through the room, looking at things, touching them.

I eyed the closed front door and wondered if I could make it, but in my slightly weakened state, I didn’t think I had the ability. But I knew that whatever was in the water would only make my reflexes worse over time. If I was going to do something, it needed to be sooner rather than later.

“I found myself watching Cade, wondering why his abuse hadn’t broken him. Why had the alcohol not become a demon that drove him insane? It became obvious when I saw him once with a group of men. His military buddies, his new family. Particularly Aiden Latimer, who bolstered him up and gave him a life outside his past. That man is a nuisance and a complete mess. He wouldn’t know how to tie his shoes without a lawyer directing him.”

“How did you track him when he died? Did you know he was working with the FBI?”

He shrugged. “As I said, I was watching him quite a bit. A few weeks before I started at Muse, he boarded a plane to Colorado and I followed. The news reported that he was dead the next day, so I went to the hospital to claim the body as his last living relative. They couldn’t give me any answers. So, I watched and waited. And one day, by pure luck, I saw a man in a wheelchair being escorted out of the hospital by what looked like security guards. He was loaded into a van with a government license plate. I put a few things together when I saw his old friend Mick.”

“But, you had already killed people,” I said with a grimace.

“Oh, yes, they were all mine. I just had no idea the game we were about to play, had ramped up to that level. I spent a great deal of time, waiting for him to appear near a crime scene. Then one day, he was there, working at one of the bars and very much alive. I joined Muse to see if anyone would say anything. It’s amazing what people will talk about, when they don’t think you’re listening. The one thing they kept saying, was that you’d loved him. So, I started following both of you, and now we’re here.”

“So, dumping the bodies near the bars?” I asked as I stood up, trying to get circulation back in my limbs. “Were you getting back at Aiden for giving Cade a life you couldn’t have or something?”

He let out a small laugh but gave me a calculating look. It was as if he was also weighing the possibility that I would make it to the door. I slumped a little and grabbed the back of the chair as if I was far more drugged than I actually felt.

Grinning, and possibly satisfied that I looked too weak to do anything, he replied, “Why would I want that? I love my life. I’ve been watching my brother struggle for years to stay away from his addiction. It’s been a singular event to watch. What one man will put himself through and endure to have a better life. Being around alcohol day and night, but never touching it. It’s fascinating.”

“He has discipline, unlike…other people.” I sluggishly said for effect. My eyes slid to the side wondering if there was something, anything to use as a weapon.

“If he’d just let go, he’d be far happier in life. Dropping a few visitors in Aiden’s lap was a bonus. The P.R. fallout must have been a nightmare.”

“You really are a monster,” I mumbled. I stared at him, trying to figure out how two brothers could be so dissimilar. Even with the sum of Cade’s faults and misdeeds, he would never be so evil.

“I told you I was. You’re the key, Suzanne. Or does he call you something else? When things didn’t happen the way I thought they would, I watched and wondered what event would cause him to spiral out of control. I was patient. Then you came along. The perfect pawn in a very long game.”

“I’m not a pawn, Garrett,” I hissed. “He has far more self-control, and if you knew him at all, you would have realized that years ago.”

“Does he?” he asked, raising his eyebrow and smirking. “Seems to me, he’s been in a nosedive for the last month. Now you’re back and you’re in the way.”

He sauntered to the table with my phone on it and ran his fingers across the keyboard of my computer. He paused when he got to Cade’s note and tapped it gently, as if he was thinking of something before picking it up.

I clenched my jaw as he opened it, read it, and smirked. He tore it in half while staring at me, almost taunting me to do something. If I took the bait and fought him over it, he would know I was stronger than I looked. Instead I let my lip tremble slightly, trying to seem upset.

“I thought redheaded reminders might jog his memory of the past. Might push him over the cliff he’s walking on. Our mother was a redhead, and she was by far the worst to him. Our father was just the one that followed her instructions. Apparently, my little gifts didn’t sink in, and now I have a remarkable taste for it.”

I moved to the side of the chair trying to imitate as best as I could, a slightly tipsy person as I made my way to the side of the couch.

He gave me a look as if he was studying some object, rather than a human being. “I thought I’d failed. But you…a redhead and someone he cares about. He’ll break. Then I’ll come in.”

“He’s in custody, you asshole,” I hissed. “You won’t break him. He won’t even be around for you to see.”

“Sweet Suzanne, he’ll see it, even from there,” he said, as he reached in his back pocket and tossed around ten photos on the couch. “Ten photos for the perfect ten.”

I glanced down at them and nearly choked. One of the images showed me, clearly passed out and slumped into a man that was smiling. Garrett Shepard, serial killer, with a smile for whomever saw the photo. And the person he smiled for in those photos was Cade. Another one, showed him kissing my neck, another my mouth. As I continued to look, my anger rose. I thought back to what Agent Kennedy said about the killer and the victims. The bodies showed signs of handling, he’d said.

“Did you…” I asked in a low whisper, horror running through me at what he might have done.

He gave me a wide smile. “No. Although I have to say, thinking of Cade’s reaction, it was tempting to try. That just doesn’t excite me as much as watching the life drain out of a beautiful woman. It’s the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Why?”

The look on his face drifted, as if he was thinking of a memory before he spoke in a low voice. “There’s a moment that happens where two souls connect forever. One in desperation, reaching out, seeking the life I could give, but won’t. The hope that they have in their eyes is extraordinary. It’s as if they have faith in me, not to go through with what I do to them. There’s love there, and it’s perfect.”

“And what do you give them? Seems like a…” I said, pausing on purpose. “…mismatched relationship.”

He gave me a serene glance when he spoke. “I give them a little piece of my soul as they slip away, to take with them. Devotion, worship, love for the gift they’ve given me. It’s the perfect balance wrapped in a single act.”

“The notes? The nonsensical love notes to your intended victims? What are those?”

“A prelude to a moment. Nothing more. The FBI has fun with those little things, and frankly, I love the anticipation. When they read them, are they aware? Or do they think that their lovers might have written them? Do they wish they had?”

“You see yourself as your victim’s lover?”

He smiled. “Yes. I do love them. When they spend time with me, I make them into what I want. I spent so many years fitting into what other people expected me to be, that it’s gratifying when a woman becomes what I want her to be.”

“Like your mother? The red hair?”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes flared. “They’re nothing like her when they change for me. They’re perfect. You will be too. Cade will be so angry afterward, when he understands what you’ve given me. The last moment of your life will be mine alone. It’ll be something he can never have.”

“Cade won’t witness this. He won’t even know. So, your sick as fuck plans, backfired when you had him arrested, Garrett.”

He smirked. “He’s right where he needs to be, actually. The FBI was easier to manipulate than I thought. A few pictures, some receipts for gas and hotels. Morons. He’ll be out soon enough, but he won’t be coming home to you.”

He turned toward an abstract painting on the wall and gave it more than a cursory look. That’s when I made my move toward the door. All or nothing, I would have to try and save myself. Just like I had so many times before.