A Dark Place _ The Hunt For The Van Gogh Killer Begins m - Mary Alford

Prologue

The lights from the D.C. skyline reflected into his rearview mirror. There was something about the city that had fueled his primal instincts for years. Part of it was due to his upbringing. He’d been taught to kill by one of the best. . . long before Edward Buckley came into his life.

Blood zinged through his veins like electricity. He felt alive for the first time ever. For years, he’d lived in the shadow of someone else. First his father. Then Buckley. Now, it was his time. He was free to create his own legend, and he intended to make it spectacular.

He’d carefully studied the art of killing from the masters. Surpassed their talents. This moment had been a long time coming. Soon the world would see who the real Van Gogh Killer was. Buckley talked a good game, but he wasn’t the one in the trenches. He wasn’t the one working the tools of the craft like a violinist masters the strings of his instrument to create beautiful but haunting music.

Despite the chill of the night, he rolled the window down and stuck his head out, breathing in the glorious scent of the countryside—his old stomping grounds. Where it all began.

It was only fitting that he chose this place to launch his solo act. He’d picked the perfect victim to be his first. One that would lead them back to her. A smile spread across his face despite the freezing temperature and the snow coming down strong. His excitement transcended momentary physical discomfort.

Snow danced in the car’s headlights as they picked up the dilapidated fence that marked the beginning of the property. Like a wolf, the desire to hunt grew stronger with the setting sun. The need for revenge on his mentor--on his father—could no longer be denied. He was ready to unleash it. And he would.

A scream came from the back of the car. She’d woken up and was pounding against the roof of the trunk to get someone’s attention.

“Shut up,” he yelled loud enough for her to hear. A whimper followed, then silence.

He slammed his fist against the steering wheel while self-loathing threatened to reduce him to that young man who had once been a victim himself. He’d made a huge mistake. Used the wrong dosage of ketamine. And because of it, she was awake.

A deep growl escaped past his bared teeth. His mentors would be yelling about his failure with rage and indignation on their faces—he could feel their wrath. And pain. There was always a price to pay for letting both down.

He cocked his head and listened. Only a faint whimpering from the back, barely enough to be heard inside the car’s interior. His shoulders relaxed. Attention returned to the goal at hand. The games he would play with her. The torture he would inflict.

She’d been easy. So trusting—like the others. He’d watched her for days. Knew her routine well. Couldn’t wait to make her his. Only his. Forever.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the place he knew so well. For years he’d had nightmares about it. He’d wake up in a cold sweat and was right back here. But no more. Now, he would exorcise all the ghosts that still lived here and he would create his own nightmares. Everything had been ready for days. The only thing missing was his victim.

And now he had her.

He got out and opened the barbed-wire gate before driving through. Once the gate was secured, he continued down the long and pitted dirt road of his childhood.

This was his maiden kill, but he wasn’t afraid. He’d been preparing for this moment his whole life.

Through the windshield the old house appeared, the surrounding woods slowly reclaiming it. For a second, he was that scared little boy again. Too afraid of what awaited him on the other side of the door to go in. Instead, he’d hide out in the woods. But he always found him.

The house was falling apart, but it had been for years. Most wouldn’t give it a second look nowadays. They hadn’t back then either. All the proper folks around the county had overlooked him and his family. Ignored what was happening and allowed a monster to have his way.

He still remembered the day Edward Buckley showed up at his house and took care of the family problem once and for all. He’d thought Buckley was a hero, until it became clear he was just a different kind of wolf. For someone like him,