Catch Me by Schneider J. A

Author:Schneider, J. A. [Schneider, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thrillers, thriller, Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Suspense, Crime, Medical
Amazon: B00NFZK7P0
Goodreads: 23203981
Publisher: J.A. Schneider & R.G. Schneider, M.D
Published: 2014-09-08T07:00:00+00:00

24

I feel pretty, Oh, so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright! And I pity. Any girl who isn't me tonight.

The killer pictured Maria singing that in West Side Story, and the rest came easy. He actually got his voice up into a surprisingly good falsetto, throwing his head back, enjoying getting fussed over. He’d picked up Tiffany and Amanda in their tight shorts on West 19th Street, was at their place now way over in the West Village. Tiffany was lovingly brushing his huge blond wig before the full length mirror and Amanda was having great fun with his makeup.

“Ooh, plum eye shadow, it’s you,” Amanda said joyously in his gritty falsetto. “Hold still, honey! There, that’s better. Glad I started with the blue, for shadow you can always go darker.”

“I would have started with plum,” Tiffany mock-scolded in his falsetto. “You just fell in love with his gorgeous blue eyes, dincha?”

“It’s true,” Amanda simpered sadly, fluttering his fake eyelashes, pulling back to peer at his work. “I fall in love too easily. The right tran and I’m gone, lost! My heart’s been broken so many times, you’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you, Sandy?”

He had told them his name was Sandy.

“Oh, the right one will come along,” he said, smiling encouragingly at Amanda, turning to admire his huge boobs, the frilly blouse over the long skirt.

Amanda cried, “That’s what I thought with Tiffany here, but she’s mean. All we do now is fight, hardly ever have sex. I was so glad when you came up to us and broke the tension.”

“Hey, I’ve been there.” The killer smiled again, thoroughly creeped by his reflection smiling back with its clownish eyes and heavy red lipstick. “Ah,” he glanced down. “Boots? You said you could make me a perfect Dolly Parton.”

“Coming!” Tiffany was already pulling boots from a closet and lining them up. “Size eleven, you said? These here are Josie’s, too small, practically for real girls. She left them with us instead of the damn rent she owed. That didn’t last long, did it?” A plucked eyebrow raised at Amanda, whose sad face gazed moon-eyed at Sandy.

“But my boots will fit. Hand tooled!” Tiffany pushed a pair to the killer, and patted his knee.

He realized they were competing for him. Smiled charmingly back at Tiffany, then sat, pulled on the boots, and stood.

“Perfect,” he said, looking again in the mirror at a tall, thoroughly grotesque Dolly Parton. “This is so kind of you.” Amanda and Tiffany smiled back at him in the mirror. “I’ll get it all back to you, ASAP.”

Tiffany’s expression turned skeptical – again. S/he’d been skeptical and more businesslike when he first walked up. “Tell again why you had none of your own?”

Defensive: “I had lots. The landlady kicked me out, and her thug of a son threatened to kill me.”

Amanda jumped lovingly to the defense. “He explained that.”

“Not about losing his clothes,” Tiffany snapped. Her gaze moved across the floor. “So what’s in your duffle?” She pointed to his long sports bag.

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