Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,24

him. And how that made me feel.

I reach the crowd of people, coming to a stop.

This scene isn’t something I like or even want to be around. It reminds me too much of my past. But I’m compelled to stay for some reason.

“Girl’s been murdered,” a voice says next to me.

I turn my head to the person. A woman with a grandmotherly face and grayish tint to her faded brown hair is looking back at me. She’s bundled up like I am in a thick brown wool coat and a knit scarf.

“Found her dead this morning. I didn’t know her well. She lived in the apartment above me. Sarah, she was called. Always smiled and said hello.”

I’m staring at her mouth, trying to take in the words coming from them. Her teeth are crooked and have a slight yellowing to them that comes only from smoking.

“It’s scary, something like this happening on your own doorstep. You just don’t expect it, do you?”

She puts one of those e-cigarettes in her mouth and starts to puff on it. “Had to give up the smokes.” She gestures to the e-cigarette like I asked her a question. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Do … did … they say what happened to the girl?”

She takes another puff of her e-cigarette and shrugs. “Just know that the super found her this morning. Blood everywhere, he said. It’s shocked the hell out of him, and that man is as tough as they come. Was in the military. Went to ’Nam. Seen it all. But said he had seen nothing like this.”

“Blood everywhere.”

My vision starts to go hazy.

Another girl dead.

“Such a shame,” she continues. “A real waste. Pretty girl she was.”

“What did she look like?” The words shoot out of me like bullets.

A flash of surprise covers the woman’s face. Probably from my hard tone.

She shrugs again. “Blonde. Pretty. Kinda like you.”

“Kinda like you.”

I feel winded.

No. It can’t be right.

“You’re sure she looked like me?”

She frowns. Her set lines creasing deeper. “You okay, honey? You look a little pale. Did you know Sarah?”

“No.” I shake my head, taking a step backward. “I just …” You just what? Make something up, so you don’t sound crazy. “It’s just … worrisome. A murder happening so close by.”

She nods, puffing on that e-cigarette. It smells like candy. It’s making me feel sick.

“You live round here?”

“Next building,” I tell her.

She nods. “Well, I wouldn’t worry, hon. I imagine it was her boyfriend. Usually is when things like this happen.”

“She had a boyfriend?”

“Yeah. I saw her with him every now and then.”

A weird feeling of relief passes through me. I mean, she had a boyfriend, and most murders happen at the hand of those you know and love. It’s only rare occasions when people are murdered by strangers. Even rarer when a stranger kills because of an obsession with you.

I need to stop jumping to the worst conclusion. This has nothing to do with Tobias.

This girl was most likely killed by her boyfriend. It’s horrific and tragic, and I hope the guy rots in prison. But it is nothing for me to panic over.

“I always thought they were a funny couple though. She was real friendly. Would always smile, say hello. He was weird, I thought. Just this vibe about him. He wouldn’t ever talk. Would look right through you, like you weren’t even there.” She shudders. “Probably should have seen it coming. It’s always the quiet ones, right?”

I nod, agreeing with the old adage. Not that it’s right. Sometimes but not always. Psychos can also blend right in with the rest of us.

I catch sight of movement by the entry door to the building. I rise onto my tiptoes, so I can see over the heads in front of me. Police are coming out.

Then, it hits me. I’m just like those people who used to stand over Tobias’s victims. Vultures waiting to pick at the bones of the story. Like the people who used to wait around outside my old home to get a look at the woman who had caused the death of multiple innocent women. Gossipers like the woman beside me.

This isn’t me. I shouldn’t be here.

“I have to go,” I feel the need to tell this woman, already moving away.

“Stay safe, hon,” she says.

I nod and turn away, making my way through the crowd of people, which has grown in size since I got here.

I walk toward my building, a heaviness settling on me.

Another life snuffed out too early.

God, I really hate people