The Seventh Victim by Burton Mary

Author:Burton, Mary [Burton, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2012-12-26T06:00:00+00:00

The locals kept talking about the day’s milder temperatures, but Raines believed Texas was hotter than hell. He longed to return to Seattle with its cool misty days, great coffee, and familiar streets.

Staring down at his plate of fried eggs, toast, and grits he fished his cell phone out of his breast pocket and dialed his home number. He waited through the rings until he heard the answering machine featuring his wife’s voice: “You’ve reached the Raines residence, leave a message at the beep, and we’ll get back to you.”

Raines checked his watch and realized he hadn’t allowed for the time difference. It was four in Seattle and Susan had left work and was hustling over to Tara’s school. He dialed Susan’s number hoping to catch her before she reached the chaos of the carpool line.

After several rings, her voice mail kicked in, and he waited until he heard the beep before lowering his voice a notch. “Susan and Tara, it’s me, Mike, a.k.a. Dad. I’m still in Austin and still chasing a bad guy, but I hope to be home real soon. Call me if you get the chance.”

Loneliness knotted in his chest as he thought about his two girls. God, but he missed them.

He needed to catch this son of a bitch and fast so that he could get home to them. He’d given Beck his files and six days’ time. His patience had worn thin. And his promise to stay away from Lara had officially expired.

Flipping open a weathered notebook, he checked the notes he’d scribbled on Lara. Included was a detailed sketch of her schedule. Monday. Her lab would be finished. He glanced out the café window and stared at the bright sky. He was no artist by any stretch, but if he were a photographer, he’d haul out his camera on a day like today and shoot pictures.

He dug ten bucks out of his pocket, dropped it on the table, and glanced toward the diner’s manager. “Got to go, Mack. Money’s on the table.” In just six days he had an established routine with the owner. Susan and Tara would have had great fun with that tidbit.

“Glad having you, Mr. Raines. See you for dinner?” Mack said.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

He grabbed a handful of mints as he walked past the cashier and headed out toward his rental car. When he traveled he always rented the same kind of car, Toyota Camry. For the most part the models didn’t change too much from year to year, which meant he didn’t have to spend needless time fumbling with buttons and knobs.

Soon he was headed south out of town on I-35. When he rolled down the interstate he spotted the black truck parked on the side of the road. Lara’s truck. He almost laughed. Folks said he was rote, but it was his experience that most people were just as predictable. Artists shot their pictures on somewhat of a schedule, cops stuck to old habits that had seen them through too many crime scenes, and killers stuck to patterns.

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