After the spill she took down the stairs and his subsequent shove, he could have left. She was bleeding badly from the head and both an arm and a leg were badly broken. But she’d seen his face. She could identify him. Even then, he was on the fence. That was, until he saw the stockings.
It was like a talisman, calling out to him, telling him he had to do this. What were the chances that this lithesome young thing would be wearing the same brand of pantyhose that he’d been carrying at the Bloom house? It was as if it was all meant to be. It was as if he was supposed to use the stocking on her.
When he did, he felt that same buzz of exhilaration as he had the first night, only this time it was even more pronounced. He knew it was because it hadn’t all happened in such a rush this time. He’d had time to consciously choose to do this. He’d been able to roll the stocking off the girl’s leg, to savor the anticipation of wrapping it around her long, delicate neck.
And it was everything he hoped. As he watched the life drain out of her eyes, he felt more powerful than he ever had before, almost like a god. It was even better than the old days, when he’d actually been a man of power, a man of respect.
Despite that respect, he’d still been underappreciated by the women he coveted; the trophy wives like the one the other night, the models like the one he’d just snuffed out. Sure, they admired him. Some were even awed to be in his presence. But despite what he did for them, the contribution he’d made to their lives, none of them arrived at his place in sports bras with bottles of wine. None of them woke him up from a nap in just a teddy and stilettos.
He pictured the woman who’d put him in this position, who’d made his life what it was. She didn’t look that different from the gal at the bottom of the stairs. He imagined it was her he was squeezing the life out of. As he did, he was unaware that he was grinding his teeth together.
The fantasy made him tingle all over again. That’s when he accepted something he’d been keeping at bay in his mind for the last few minutes. He wanted to do this again. He had to.
*
Jessie stood in front of Randy Fuller, trying to get a bead on the guy. He smiled back amiably, a vague tequila haze in his eyes. The man seemed tickled to have her back.
“Lot of excitement over there,” he noted, nodding at the Landingham mansion, currently swarmed by police.
“You seem very interested,” Jessie replied. “Almost like you have a personal stake in what’s going on.”
Fuller smiled widely, squinting at her as he held up his hand to block the sun.
“Like I said, I’m a one-man neighborhood watch. I’m always interested in what happens here.”
“Randy,” she said, sitting down on the porch next to him. “Can I be straight with you?”
“I’d prefer it,” he said, taking another big glug. The massive glass was almost two-thirds empty now.
“I think you’re holding back.”
“What do you mean?” he asked coyly.
“I mean, you just reiterated that you’re a one-man neighborhood watch. You specifically referenced Carl when we spoke earlier, as if he was on your mind. I can’t help but wonder what put him there. Care to share?”
“I feel very much under attack here, Jessie,” he said, not sounding at all like he thought he was under attack.
Jessie appreciated Fuller’s curmudgeonly nature but her patience was wearing thin. Time was running short and she needed answers. She decided she needed to short-circuit his buzz.
“Randy, remember how I said I was going to be straight with you?”
“Considering that you said it thirty seconds ago, yes.”
“Right. So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me the little secret about Carl that you’re guarding so preciously and you’re going to tell me now. There’s a dead girl in that house and I’m not in the mood to play games. If you have information that can solve her murder, I want it. If you persist in playing the role of the leather-skinned, coquettish, drunken know-it-all who keeps his mouth shut and his secrets close, you’ll do it down at the station, and not this one. You’ll be getting a ride to Central Station