The Killing Girl (The Dark Hobby Trilogy Book 2) by Summer Prescott

Author:Summer Prescott [Prescott, Summer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: S. Prescott Thrillers
Published: 2019-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

While Timothy Eckels still hadn’t gained the trust of his attractive neighbor, Marilyn, nor secured a job, he had at least managed to form a casually pleasant relationship with her daughter, Tiara, who would stop and chat a bit if she saw him outside. He dropped into the pie shop every now and again, if he happened to experience a craving during his daily walks on the beach, and hadn’t yet been thrown out or turned away, though he remained tongue-tied and awkward when he encountered Marilyn.

Tim’s time in Florida had burnished his white skin to a faint tan, and exposure to sunlight and salt air had combined to give his mouse-brown hair golden highlights. He still wasn’t a terribly attractive man by any means, but the sun-kissed glow at least made his appearance slightly less cadaverous. He and his cat, Maisie, had carved out a mellow existence in their quiet cul-de-sac, and with the exception of some unnerving calls where no one spoke, his life was fairly normal. As normal as the husband of a fugitive serial killer could hope to be, at any rate.

The former mortician had no illusions about his charm and grace, or lack thereof. He’d always been an outsider, and was more than okay with that. What he didn’t realize is that sometimes other people found his quiet, contemplative demeanor to be…creepy. His eyes bulging behind coke-bottle thick glasses looked buggy and a bit leering, and his habit of staring into space while puzzling through social interactions could be off-putting. It also simply didn’t occur to him that when he structured his walks on the beach to coincide with Marilyn and Tiara’s beach yoga class, that it might unnerve them to see him watching, transfixed, from beneath a stand of palms near the boardwalk.

As he settled into position beneath the trees, water bottle in hand, to observe the class on this particular morning, he noted that Marilyn was not in attendance. She and Tiara usually staked out their spots in the middle of the second row. They faced the ocean, which meant that Tim saw the class from behind, but their graceful, fluid movements soothed him somehow, despite the fact that their supremely fit male teacher seemed to be a bit of an arrogant peacock.

Tim wondered where Marilyn might be, and hoped that she was well. He’d have to peer through the hedge between their houses to see if she was taking in the sun on her back patio, as she usually did when she wasn’t feeling well. He didn’t have much of a life of his own, so the restless mortician contented himself with keeping tabs on his neighbors. They fascinated him.

“Nice view, huh?” a masculine voice to his left startled Tim from his reverie.

Not quite certain what the muscle-bound young man meant, he nodded cautiously.

“I like the ocean,” he said simply, dropping his gaze back to the yoga class.

“The ocean,” the man snickered. “Yeah, that’s what I’m checking out too, dude.”

“What are you implying?” Tim frowned, blinking up at the young man.

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