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  She elbowed her friend, smiled widely, and sauntered over to his truck. “Whatcha want, handsome?”

  Greg gave her a closer inspection as she leaned in through the open window. He was mesmerized by her beauty. That heart-shaped face and full pouty lips made him ache with lust. With her eyes replaced and the thick black hair from Lola, she would be exactly what he needed.

  “I’m Tristan. What’s your name?”

  Greg stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Hank. How about jumping in and having some fun with me tonight?”

  “Sure thing, baby. I just have to let my friend know I’m leaving.”

  Greg removed the cap from the syringe while he waited. Seconds later, Tristan returned to the truck and climbed in. She fastened her seat belt as Greg sped away from the curb.

  “Slow down, cowboy. I need money up front before we go anywhere.”

  “Sorry, I don’t know the rules in Atlanta. I just moved here from Wyoming.”

  She puckered her lips and squeezed his knee. “So you actually are a cowboy. You’ve got a lot to learn, mister, and I’m the perfect teacher.” She pointed at the intersecting street ahead. “Pull over up there. We’ll take care of business, and then we’ll get the party started.”

  Greg’s excitement was palpable as he slowed the truck and shifted into Park. Tristan could provide many of the necessary pieces he still needed to complete his project. “So how much?”

  “Depends on how long you want my services.”

  “For eternity.”

  They both laughed.

  She lowered the visor mirror and checked her reflection. “Let’s start with an hour and see how it goes.”

  “Sure.” Greg lifted his hip and pulled out his wallet. “How much is that going to set me back?”

  “Three Benjamins.”

  Greg whistled and looked her up and down. “I hope you’re worth it.”

  She leaned across the seat and licked his cheek. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I’m sure you won’t.”

  It took only a second for Greg to pull the syringe from his jacket pocket and sink it into her neck. A shocked expression came over her face at the realization of what had just happened. Tristan let out a yelp and swatted at the door as she tried to grasp the handle, but Greg ripped her back by the hair. He endured the flurry of kicks and slaps for a minute—he knew full well she’d quickly lose the will to fight. “You aren’t going anywhere except home with me.”

  Her motions slowed until she finally went still, and her head slumped to the right. The seat belt held her in place as Greg made the forty-minute drive home.

  He backed into the driveway at seven o’clock, turned on the truck’s interior lights, and reached across the seat. He flicked Tristan’s cheek with his thumb and middle finger, watching for movement. She didn’t flinch, yet her pulse was still strong. “Good, you’ll be asleep for hours.”

  Greg exited the truck and went to the front door. He cursed the flickering porch light as he fumbled to find the keyhole in the knob. Once inside the house, he went directly to the closet, pushed the clothes aside, and moved the totes. When he crossed the threshold into the first room, the strong odor of bleach filled the air. He continued into the second room, where he had set up a temporary holding area for his donors, but he had to rid himself of Lola’s body before he began the next phase of the project. Greg propped open the cage door with a five-pound weight, gathered the handcuffs, rope, and ball gag, then returned to the truck. He scooped up the passed-out prostitute before carrying her inside. He cuffed her hands behind her back, bound her legs together, then put the gag in her mouth and tightened the strap behind her head. Next, he placed her in the dog cage and snapped the padlock. He’d have a few hours of quiet while he gleaned what he needed from Lola, then he’d dump her remains in the Oakland Cemetery. Leaving home late was better, and his chances of being discovered in the large plot of land were slim to none.

  Returning to the front door, Greg replaced the bulb with a brighter one just so that chore would be out of the way. Back in the operating room, he rolled the cart through the closet door and into the kitchen, where he pulled Lola’s stiff, armless body out of the freezer and placed it on the steel surface. He wheeled her into the operating room and slid her onto the embalming table. He gave her body one more thorough examination to make sure he hadn’t missed any identifiable features—she was clean. He looked over his shoulder at the cardboard image of Kamila and smiled. “See how careful I’m being? There’s nothing to worry about.” He lifted the reciprocating saw off the counter and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 14

  It would take hours for Lola’s torso to thaw. Greg filled a large contractor-sized garbage bag, knotted the end, and carried it to the back of his truck. He lowered the tailgate, pushed in the bag, and slammed the gate closed. He secured the retractable bed cover and climbed in behind the wheel. The distance to the cemetery was an easy twelve miles, and at that time of night, the grounds would be dark and quiet. The only people there wouldn’t talk—they were six feet under.

  Earlier that day, Greg had checked the roads leading in and out of the cemetery. The main gated entrance wasn’t an option since it was closed and locked after dark. He’d make entry through a lesser-known service road that came in through the back, the same one used by the grave-digging crew.

  Greg turned at the pea-gravel road and twisted the headlamp lever next to his steering wheel. He set his fog lamps and drove deep into the cemetery grounds then turned right off the main road and onto a smaller one. He continued on for another minute until he arrived at an area containing a half dozen family mausoleums. He killed the engine and climbed out of the truck with a flashlight in hand. The walled perimeter separating the train station from the cemetery stood twenty feet behind the structures.

  Yeah, this will work, and there isn’t a good reason for anyone to wander around behind these buildings.

  Greg returned to the truck, opened the tailgate, and with a heave, pulled out the bag containing the torso and legs and dropped it to the ground. He dragged the bag to the backside of the third mausoleum and left it there. Slapping his hands together at another job well-done, Greg climbed in behind the wheel and drove away. He was excited to get home, remove Lola’s hair from her head, and check on his latest guest.

  He glanced at the time as he pulled into the driveway—12:16 a.m. Tristan was likely awake and frantic about her predicament. Greg entered the house and went directly to the room where she was being held. He hit the wall switch and walked toward the cage. She was awake, and her eyes, bulging with fear, darted from one side of the room to the other.

  “There’s no escaping this place, Tristan, so don’t worry about it. You’ll leave when I’m finished with you.” He carried a chair across the room and took a seat mere inches from the cage. “So close yet so far away, right?” He smiled. “Turn around, and I’ll release the ball gag so we can have a chat.” She scooted across the cage and backed up to the links. Greg released the strap that held the ball in her mouth then pulled the gag through the wire openings. She opened and closed her mouth several times as if to relieve the ache in her jaws.

  “Better?”

  She screamed at the top of her lungs and kicked the enclosure with her bound feet.

  “I guarantee you the only thing you’ll get from screaming is a sore throat. There’s nobody within a mile of here, plus you’re in a soundproof room.”

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Got some kind of kinky bondage fetish or something?”

  Greg crossed his right leg over his left one and yawned. “Not at all, and as a matter of fact, that isn’t why you’re here.”

  “Yeah, asshole, then why am I?”

  “It’s your beautiful legs and face that I’m interested in.”

  “So you want to take pictures of me?”

  Greg scratched his chin. “Maybe, but not quite yet. We’ll talk more tomorrow morning. Right now, I’m tired, and it
’s been a long day.” He rose from the chair and walked to the door.

  She screamed again. “Let me out of this cage! You can’t just leave me like this. I promise I won’t say a word, and you can have your three hundred bucks back.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve already returned the money to my wallet.”

  “You bastard.” She kicked the cage again. “I’ll get out of here, I swear I will.”

  “Try to relax, Tristan. I don’t want you to injure yourself.” He flipped the switch and the room went black, then he closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 15

  We were on our second carafe of coffee as we finalized the plans for tomorrow’s big surprise. We had shopping to do and party favors to buy. Kim had ordered a cake from a local bakery several days ago, and I had done my research to locate the nearest butcher shop. Hot dogs and fresh ground beef for burgers were a must for tomorrow’s barbecue. We’d buy the appetizers, chips, baked beans, and potato salad once Beth had Mom out of the house.

  Kim checked the items that we had already taken care of off the list. “So where’s the butcher shop?”

  “I found one only a mile from Mom’s house, and it had plenty of good reviews. It’s called Greg’s Chop Shop.” I chuckled. “Catchy name, right? Anyway, I’ll call and order the meat today since the butcher will probably need the head count for the party.”

  “Beth said there will be fifteen people in total, including us.”

  I entered that information next to the name of the butcher shop in my memo app. “What else?”

  “Beverages, I guess. We’ll need coffee, iced tea, and soda. We’ll save the wine and beer for tomorrow night.”

  After years of indifference toward me, Kim was finally coming around. I was surprisingly happy and squeezed her hand as I spoke. “Maybe a birthday party and a divorce is exactly what we needed to get our family back on track.”

  We finished breakfast and our to-do list then ordered an economy car to be delivered to the hotel. We’d be driving ourselves around for the rest of our visit.

  Kim and I spent the afternoon shopping for decorations and the perfect birthday gift for Mom. We agreed on a fifty-five-inch flat-screen TV since she always complained about her old one cutting out and being awkwardly heavy. I was sure it was the same TV she’d had when I was in college.

  Swiping my hair out of my face, I groaned. “Good thing our rental is a hatchback. This beast wouldn’t have fit in a trunk.” After we loaded the boxed TV, I slammed the lid and climbed into the passenger seat. Kim was very different than me when it came to driving. Cars weaving in and out of six lanes of traffic didn’t seem to faze her, though I avoided such driving whenever possible.

  As she drove, I reviewed our list. “Let’s stop at the butcher shop and order the meat. That way we can check out the place firsthand, and if we don’t like it, we’ll pick up the meat at the grocery store tomorrow.”

  I called out the route as Kim headed southeast to Confederate Avenue, where the butcher shop was located. We found the stand-alone building minutes later on the right-hand side of the street. Kim turned in and grabbed the lot’s only remaining parking spot that wasn’t marked for handicapped vehicles only.

  I nodded at the lot as we climbed out of the car. “A busy butcher shop is a good sign. He must have quite the clientele.”

  The bell above the door rang out as we entered. Four people stood in line, and several others milled about the store. Refrigerated units filled with jars of gourmet pickles, beets, olives, and relishes lined the walls. Shelves to our right held chips, crackers, and a variety of canned homemade meat sauces. I grabbed a ticket to secure our place in line, and we browsed the store while we waited our turn.

  “I’d love to take some of this stuff home, but TSA would just confiscate it,” Kim said.

  “You can find anything you want online these days.”

  She lifted a jar of muffuletta salad and turned it as she read the ingredients on the back label. “Man, this sounds delicious. I’m buying it for the party.”

  A voice spoke up from behind the counter. “It is delicious.” He looked at the digital number sign. “Are you ladies number sixteen?”

  I pulled out the ticket I had jammed in my pocket. “Yep, that’s us.” Kim and I walked to the counter. “We need to order meat for our mom’s surprise birthday party we’re hosting tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “Not a problem. What do you need?”

  Kim took over. “Well, we’re going to barbecue, so we plan to keep it simple with burgers and dogs. There will be fifteen adults at the party.”

  “Sure.” He wrote that down. “Do you want ground chuck, a better quality than ground beef?”

  Kim looked at me. I was used to our weekend grilling parties, and Amber always bought ground chuck, so I told him yes.

  “Okay, and do you want all-beef dogs?”

  We said yes to that question too.

  “I’d recommend eight pounds of ground chuck and thirty hotdogs. That should easily feed fifteen people.”

  I pulled out my wallet and handed him my credit card. “Yeah, that sounds good, and we’ll pick up the meat in the morning. What time are you open on Saturdays?”

  “From ten until five. Give me a second to ring up the total and get your name and a number.”

  Kim pushed the jar of muffuletta salad across the counter. “We’re getting this too.”

  I paid the bill and told the butcher we’d be back at eleven o’clock tomorrow. With my wallet and receipt tucked in my purse, we walked out and climbed into the car. “That was a nice place. I wonder if Mom buys her meat there.” I deleted that errand from our to-do list. “It looks like everything is under control. What time is Beth leaving the house with Mom?”

  “She said around nine. The history museum has a new folk art exhibit that Mom has been talking about for weeks. They’ll be back around twelve thirty if everything goes to plan.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I gave Kim a quick smile. “This trip has actually been fun so far.” I looked over my shoulder at everything we’d purchased that day. “Are we unloading all this at the hotel?”

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. “I guess so. We don’t want anyone to break into the car and steal the stuff. We can load everything onto a porter’s trolley, no problem.”

  “And then dinner after that?”

  “Yep, sounds good.”

  Chapter 16

  I lay in bed that night and plumped two pillows behind my back as I made the call to Amber.

  “I’m putting you on Speakerphone. Jade wants to hear how miserable you are too.”

  “That’s the weird thing, I’m not miserable. Kim and I are actually acting like sisters.” After all the years of bad blood between us, we had finally made peace with each other. “Who would have thought that it would take my mom’s birthday party to get us on speaking terms again?”

  “And she’s really getting divorced?” Jade asked.

  I shrugged out of habit, even though I was alone. “We’ll see. I hate to admit it, but I think Kim’s personality had a lot to do with Allen’s decision. I couldn’t even stand her, and she was my own sister. She’s trying to change her ways, but for them, it may be too late.” I glanced at the time on my phone as we talked. I wanted to get through a few more chapters of my book while I had a quiet, cozy place to enjoy it. “Hey, I’m going to sign off. I started reading a crime thriller a few months back, and I haven’t even reached chapter fifteen yet. I want to read for an hour or so before I doze off.”

  “Sounds good. I hope the party is a big success tomorrow and call back when you can.”

  I laughed when I heard Jade in the background, saying she hoped somebody knew how to operate the grill.

  “Tell her I’ve learned a lot from watching you and the guys during our football parties. Good night, Amber.” I clicked off, checked my in-box, and made a cup of chamomile tea. Back in bed, I reached for my book and opened it to chapter fourteen.

  Th
e book slipped out of my hand twice as I felt myself succumbing to the sleep gods. I sat up straight, sipped my tea, and got through two more chapters.

  I have to push through the next four chapters. I can make it to chapter twenty, I know I can.

  Before I knew it, I was back in the car, and the morning fog blanketed the area in an eerie cloak of hazy mist. I couldn’t get my bearings as I drove. I knew better—don’t drive in unfamiliar cities alone, especially in the fog, rain, or snow—but there I was, alone and disoriented. Something on the right caught my eye, but how could it? Seeing ten feet beyond the nose of the car was nearly impossible, yet in the distance, I saw a man dragging a plastic garbage bag across the ground. It appeared heavy, as if he was struggling with the weight. I inched along as I watched, curious about what he was up to. I pulled to the shoulder and craned my neck from the windshield to the back window but lost sight of him. It was hard to see much of anything beyond that wall. The sudden pounding nearly gave me a heart attack. I snapped my head to the left and saw him banging on the driver’s-side window. It was as if he had teleported to my car, and only the glass lay between him and me. The meat cleaver in his hand glistened in the damp air as he chopped at the glass and shredded the car’s metal exterior. I screamed and stepped on the gas, but the pedal was gone.

  I lurched upward, and my eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. A ray of light peeked in through the one-inch space beneath the door, and the smoke detector illuminated a tiny green dot on the ceiling—I was in my hotel room. I fumbled with the nightstand lamp as I tried to find the switch.

  It was only a dream, and I’m safe.

  With the room lit, I leaped from the bed and checked the door—locked and dead bolted. The blinds were drawn, and nobody was hiding behind the shower curtain either. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stripped out of my sweat-soaked pajamas and put on a long T-shirt. The dampened washcloth felt good against my face—I needed a minute to regroup. I returned to bed with a glass of water and saw that my book had dropped to the floor. I picked it up then reached for the paper and pen. I needed to recall my dream and put it in writing before it faded from my mind.