Chapter Twenty Nine

Brian studied the way the shiny gold necklace glimmered in the light streaming in through the window. It would have been better if it had been inscribed with a message—more personal. He highly doubted anyone gave enough of a fuck about the woman to do something that thoughtful for her. In other words, she’d bought it for herself.

Maybe that deadbeat husband of hers had bought it for her, but probably not since he never had a job. He had listened to her whine about it until he finally gagged her ass because he was so sick of hearing her complain. Would the husband look for her? He doubted it. Then again, he probably would because she was his meal ticket.

Hell, he had done her a favor. By killing her he had given her eternal life. She had been a nobody before he came along. Now the woman was on the front page of the newspaper. Now she was famous. I’m going to make you a star, baby. That’s what he’d told her right before he killed her.

He was angry at himself for making this killing so personal. He’d been so pissed when that Goldie girl got away that he’d taken it out on Evie. Now he was going to have to hunt that bitch down. He’d gotten to know her a little that night at the club. She wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, really, and he wasn’t sure she had truly understood how close she’d come to being killed. She had even tried to convince herself it was just a roleplay scene. She’d have to be dealt with but he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself. There was so much he still intended to do. He’d need to tread carefully with that one.

He closed his eyes, receiving the essence of the dead woman into his soul. He kept all the trinkets organized in compartments. OCD that permeated his psyche gave him power. He didn’t see it as a weakness. He viewed it as control. With each kill he became stronger and more confident. The city believed in him. He wasn’t an outsider anymore.

“I wonder what I’ll take from you, Goldie? Besides your life. I wonder what I’ll keep as a memento of the time we’ve shared? I hope you have jewelry. I believe precious metals hold the soul of the dearly departed better. I’m not sure why, but I’ve read that too.”

He fingered the tiny piece of jewelry, allowing it to soothe his soul. He’d enjoyed strangling Evie. There had been something so deliciously hands-on about it. It had been so satisfying, he’d come in his pants. He hadn’t been expecting that little gift but had welcomed it after his ordeal with that Goldie bitch. He ran his hand over his throat where he still bore the marks of her escape. It had only been a couple of days but the marks were already fading.

His thoughts returned to his most recent kill. So, so good. He knew he was onto something now. Every kill would have to be hands-on from now on. Personal. Who would have thought a whore could have taught him how to gain physical pleasure while he gratified his ego? That nasty bitch. How could a woman spread her legs for any Tom, Dick, or Harry for twenty bucks? He felt no guilt for ridding the streets of trash. He wasn’t in the habit of picking up whores but they were so easy. He’d been desperate to make someone pay after that bitch Goldie got away so it was a necessary evil to take the easy way out. Normally he liked more of a challenge like he got with the suburban wives. Tell a woman she was beautiful and she always believed it, even if she looked like an overweight, fatigued hedgehog.

He picked up one of the copies of the flash drive he’d made and put it in a small manila envelope. He trailed his gloved fingertips along the surface of the water he’d been drinking, then swiped them over the glue to seal the envelope shut. “No DNA for the police. They’ll have to work harder than that.”

He affixed the address label onto the envelope: Agent Turner, FBI. He’d used his computer to print out the address label. He knew better than to write it himself; didn’t want the FBI doing some handwriting analysis voodoo on it.

Let the games begin. It was time to draw criminal and crime solver together. They’d have to work together now to catch him and they’d hate themselves for it. Through sheer force of will, the Mummy Man had dominion over love, hate, good, and evil. He was all-powerful.