18 Seconds by George D. Shuman

Author:George D. Shuman [Shuman, George D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2006-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Sykes sat in the Lucky Seven drinking slow beers until the bar closed. He didn’t want to drink too many on an empty stomach and not with all the pills he’d been popping because of the chemo.

It was 2:00 A.M. when he returned to the public works complex and parked his Jeep on the hillside where it couldn’t be seen from the road. It was Sandy Lyons’s night off, like he planned it. Sandy drove the meat wagon on midnights, and when Sandy wasn’t around, no one would be looking for the truck.

He slipped in the side door to the garage and opened the bay doors to pull it out. By two-thirty he was parked alongside the boardwalk.

Sykes lifted the tarp out of the back of the truck and dragged it into the shadows under the walk. He knew that if someone saw him, there was a 90 percent chance they’d be three states away by the time the cops started asking questions. That was how it was in a tourist town. Witnesses changed every three days and even if someone did see him, he appeared to be a man out doing his job. Most people subconsciously dismiss what seems normal. He would be doing something normal, and the cops would be asking them to remember something suspicious. He knew how the mind worked.

He also knew that something was wrong the minute he saw her. Even from behind. Her head was slumped forward and something smelled bad. Real bad. Like she’d shit herself.

The moon was low on the ocean, which gave him plenty of light when he got around front to see her. “Oh, fucking Jesus,” he whispered, turning away and gagging. Her cheeks were blown full of puke around the tape, her eyes were bulging out of their sockets, and vomit had begun to squeeze through her nose. Her bowels had let loose and created a mess between her legs. She was quite dead.

He got his pocketknife and cut the tape away at her neck, careful to avoid her mouth. Goddamn it to hell. He needed to think. He’d worn gloves when he taped her up. That part was okay. He could leave all the tape behind; even if someone found it, there wouldn’t be any prints on it. But Sykes was a fanatic about evidence. He needed to get rid of her. He needed to get rid of the body.

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