The Killing Vision - By Will Overby Page 0,63

with the heel of his boot. “Fucking cops. I didn’t have anything to do with this. Derek didn’t have anything to do with it. This is all a bunch of bullshit.”

Joel stared at Wade. He knew Wade had been involved in some heavy shit over the years, and he also knew Wade had been partying more than usual lately. But could he actually be involved in something else?

There was one way to know, and even though Joel didn’t want to do it, he knew he had to. He moved over to Wade and leaned against the car beside him. “Everything will be okay,” he said. Then he placed his hand on Wade’s shoulder in a display of brotherly concern.

As many times as he had done this, he was still unprepared each time for the waves of sensations that tore through him. He saw it all, felt it all. He saw the endless stream of women, saw the barely-contained violence toward Marla, saw the drugs and booze and sex. Felt the claustrophobic existence of home and family. And he saw with sickening clarity what Clifton had done to him all those years ago. But there was nothing at all to indicate Wade had been involved in anyone’s disappearance. Wade was a partier and an adulterer, but he was not a killer.

Joel let go and slumped against the car. He was drained. For a moment he thought his legs would give out and he would tumble to the ground, but he managed to brace himself against the hood of the Crown Victoria.

Wade looked at him. “You okay?”

Joel nodded. “Just tired.”

“Mr. Roberts?”

Coming across the yard was the detective Joel had spoken with last week, Halloran. He was with a younger lanky man in a white dress shirt and tie, presumably another detective, and a stocky police officer. Halloran met Joel’s gaze, and Joel noticed the flash of recognition in his eyes. He nodded and Joel nodded back. But now he realized Halloran had been addressing Wade.

Wade stood up straight.

“Mr. Roberts, I’m gonna need you to turn around,” the stocky cop said.

“Wait,” said Wade, “what?”

“Turn around and place your hands behind your back.”

Wade’s eyes grew round with fear and anger. “What is this?”

“We found your stash in the barn,” Halloran said. “We’re taking you in for possession of marijuana and drug paraphernalia. We’re also placing you under arrest in the disappearance of Abigail Saunders.”

“What the fuck?” Wade cried. “I didn’t do anything!”

“We found Miss Saunders’ license in your truck,” Halloran said.

“That’s impossible,” Wade said.

Joel could only stand there as the burly cop, reciting Wade’s rights, led his brother over to one of the squad cars. Beside him, Marla began to sob into her hands. Derek was frozen as if made of stone.

“Get me a lawyer!” Wade shouted, and Joel wasn’t sure if he was telling him or Marla.

“We’re taking him downtown,” Halloran said to Marla. “You won’t be able to see him tonight. Come down in the morning. In the meantime, your husband gave you some good advice. I’d get an attorney as soon as possible.”

* * *

10:57 PM

He had asked her name as soon as she had slid into the car.

“Brittany,” she said.

“What a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.”

“Where do you live, Brittany?”

“Munson Street. It’s about four blocks—”

“I know where it is.”

And when he sailed past Munson Street without even slowing down, he noticed her tense up and shoot him a worried glance. “You just passed it.”

He said nothing and kept his eyes on the road.

“Turn around! You passed my street!” She tried the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. It was designed that way. She beat on the glass, but it was shatterproof and her hands bounced off as if they were made of rubber. She had backed up against the door, crying in panic now. “Let me out of here! Let me go!” And with that, she twisted in the seat and kicked him in the side, and his kidney exploded in pain.

They weren’t quite at the park yet, but he managed to pull off the road into a secluded drive and throw the car into park. She was still kicking, but he managed to grab her ankles and hold her feet still. He could tell she didn’t expect him to be so strong— none of them ever did.

She only screamed once more before he was on top of her, before his fingers wrapped around her throat, cutting off her voice. The gloves were thin, and he could feel her pulse pounding against his