He strode to the kitchen, found the cap his mother had brought him, and pulled it low over his eyes. After making sure no one was on the sidewalk, he crept out the door.
He would have to be extra attentive. With all the police in the area, and Jake Lincoln nosing around, people would be on their guard, watching for him.
He kept the hat low and turned his head when he passed a house—someone might happen to be looking out the window at the wrong time. He crossed the street to avoid a pedestrian, ducked behind trees when necessary, and gradually worked his way toward his destination, four long blocks away.
Richdale Plaza was in the heart of this working-class community, a strip of stores that served the surrounding neighborhood. He’d had a short-lived job in one of the stores awhile back, delivering pizza on a broken-down bicycle to cheapskates who had no idea what a tip was. The rat-infested establishment was called Richdale Pizza, and that’s exactly where he was headed now.
He slipped around the end of the building, made his way toward the service alleyway at the rear of the units, went halfway down the alley, and stopped in front of a hand-painted wooden door. A sign on the door read, “Richdale Pizza. Employees Only.”
He’d been in and out of that door too many times on his delivery treks, and he knew it was the door the delivery boys used when coming and going.
He also knew the bicycle leaning up against the slimy blue bin near the door belonged to Ira Toddle. Ira Toddle—the former star of the football team, the biggest boaster at school, and the dumbest cluck Adam had ever seen. He was the most popular guy who never went anywhere, his once muscular body now turned to fat, disgusting mush.
And he was a bully.
Adam removed the pistol from behind his belt, flicked off the safety, and crouched down behind the bin. There was always somebody ordering pizza from this crummy place, and with only one delivery boy, he knew he wouldn’t have to wait long.
Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, the door creaked open. Adam stood, tightened his finger on the trigger, and peered around the bin. He grinned and put his pistol hand behind his back.
Ira Toddle was coming through the door, balancing an insulated pizza bag in one palm. Unfortunately, the unknown customer was not destined to have pizza for lunch today.
That is, unless they found another delivery boy real soon.
Ira fastened the bag to the back of the bicycle and then spun around when Adam stepped out from behind the bin and called his name.
“Ira.”
Ira frowned, his eyes almost disappearing into his fat face. “What’re you doing here, Thorbrain? Shouldn’t you be cleaning out sewers or something?”
“All finished for the day,” Adam said. “I dumped all the crap on your front lawn. You can swim in it after work.”
Ira took a step ahead, hunched his shoulders forward, and glared. “You watch your mouth or I’ll rip you apart, you little freak.”
Adam grinned and brought his gun hand around, pushing the pistol forward until the barrel almost touched Ira’s nose. “Who’s a freak, Toddle?”
Ira stepped back and raised his hands halfway up, his wide eyes on the weapon. “I … I didn’t mean anything by it, Adam. I’m just joking around.”
“I’m not,” Adam said.
Ira swallowed hard. “I … I’m sorry.”
“Too late for that, Toddle.”
“Please,” the bully whined. “Put … put the gun down.”
“You’re not such a big shot now, are you, Ira Toddle?”
Toddle shook his head vigorously and tried to speak, choking out something unintelligible.
Adam gritted his teeth and squeezed the trigger. The resulting explosion startled him. He hadn’t expected such a big bang. The only thing he’d expected was to see a hole above Ira Toddle’s nose, and that’s exactly what he saw.
Adam stared at the hole, watched Ira’s eyes roll up, listened to the bully’s last breath escape his lips, and then lowered the weapon as Ira folded to the pavement.
He looked around, wondering if anyone had heard the shot. It was pretty loud.
He scratched his head. He couldn’t leave the body here, but he would never be able to lift the fat pig into the bin.
Adam put the weapon behind his belt, bent over, and grabbed the corpse by the feet. With much difficulty, he dragged the overweight slob’s body across the lane and deposited it behind a parked car that looked like it’d been there awhile.
He stood and glanced around. Satisfied no one was coming to see what the noise was all about, he strolled down the alleyway to the street and worked his way back to his hideout, careful not to be seen.
Mentally exhausted, he lay on the couch, covered up with the blanket, and fell asleep, well pleased with his accomplishment.
Chapter 42
Thursday, 1:44 p.m.
ANNIE WAS TIRED of sitting on the hard floor, weary from pacing, and exhausted from trying to find a way out of her prison. She sat on the stairs, her head in her hands. All she could do is wait.
Wait for what, she didn’t know. Wait for Adam to go crazy and kill her? Wait for Jake to come and rescue her?
She thought about Matty. If she ever got out of here but couldn’t make it home in time, Jake would surely take care of him. If no one was home when Matty got home from school, he knew enough to go next door to Kyle’s, where Chrissy would watch him.
But what if she never got out of here alive? Who would take care of Matty then? And who would take care of Jake?
She stood and turned around when the lock on the door at the top of the steps rattled. The door opened and Adam stood in the doorway. He looked at her a moment before heading down the steps, then stopped and waved her back.
She moved to the far wall, leaned back, and waited while he continued his slow plod to the basement floor.
He stopped a few feet from her, his shoulders slumped as he rocked back and forth on his heels. Annie waited for him to speak.
He moistened his lips, fiddling with a button on his shirt. “I think …” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I think I just killed someone.” He looked at Annie as if hoping for comfort, his eyes pleading with her.
She spoke softly. “Who’d you kill?”
“I … I don’t know for sure. I can’t remember, but I know it in my heart, just like last time. A vague memory I know is true, but I have no idea who it was or any of the details.” He wrung his hands.
She took a step toward him but he held up a hand to stop her. “You’d better not come near me.” He closed his eyes a moment, squeezing them tight. Then he opened them and said, “It happens when I get agitated. When I think about how much my life sucks. Then the voices start and I lose it entirely.”
“What did the voices say?” Annie asked.
His eyes narrowed at the thought. “They told me to kill you.”
Annie took a sharp breath and a step backwards, her back now to the wall. Is that why he was here now? Had he listened to the voices?
A faint smile appeared on his lips. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I didn’t listen to them. Sometimes they go away, and I think they only force me to do something that part of me already wants to do.”
Annie felt a measure of relief and spoke carefully. “Part of you wanted to go and kill someone today?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
“You don’t know?”
“I’m trying to understand what goes on in my head and what causes me to do those crazy things.” He shook his head and sighed. “I know there’s no one in my head except me, but it’s so real.” His voice turned bitter. “You can’t begin to understand what it’s like.”