Wild Captive by Tripp Ellis

Author:Tripp Ellis [Ellis, Tripp]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-09-08T16:00:00+00:00

28

I’m so glad I picked you. I will make you famous. Good things are yet to come. Stay tuned.

The killer’s note was vague, but unsettling. It had a casualness and familiarity about it that spooked Reagan to the core.

"Am I supposed to be excited that he's killing people?” Reagan asked, her frazzled voice filtering through the speaker on my phone. “Good things are yet to come? This guy is a real sicko."

"What clued you into that? Was it the decapitated girl?" I asked in a sardonic tone.

I don't think Reagan appreciated my dry humor. She was silent for a long moment.

"What about the bloodstain?" Reagan finally asked.

"I'm working on it."

"I've had way too much coffee, and I'm pacing around the studio like a freak show."

"Try to relax."

"Got any Xanax?"

I think she was serious.

"Why don't you meditate? Slow, deep breaths."

"Fuck meditation,” she snapped. “I want medication." Something distracted her. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

I decided to take Buddy on a run around the island. I needed to burn off the lasagna and get a good sweat on. My heart pounded, and my chest heaved for breath. Buddy kept up with me like I was standing still. The afternoon sun beat down, and the breeze blew through my hair. I peeled off my shirt and ran through the streets, soaking up the last rays of sunshine. Girls in cars drove by and honked and whistled.

I was so offended.

Yeah, right.

I found myself on Oyster Avenue, and I strolled down the sidewalk, catching my breath, taking in the sights and sounds. It was early, but there was always a crowd. Happy hour typically ran from 4 to 7 PM. The hard-core party crowd came out from 10 to 2 AM. Of course, the restaurants were packed during prime dining hours.

I grabbed a bottle of water from a convenience store and rehydrated. I twisted the top and guzzled the water down. When I'd had my fill, I gave the rest to Buddy in a plastic cup and let him lap it up.

"Oh, he's so cute!" a girl said, passing on the sidewalk. "What's his name?"

I told her.

She knelt down and petted him. Buddy enjoyed the attention.

So did I.

She was a cute blonde in shorts and a bikini top.

"I'm Tyson."

"I'm Erin," she said, looking up at me with a smile, scratching Buddy's chin.

We shook hands, and I tried not to notice her enticing cleavage.

"You visiting the island?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said as she stood up. "I'm here with a few girlfriends. There at Jetties. I had to run and get my ID from the hotel. You should join us. I'm sure they'd love to meet Buddy."

It sounded like an offer I couldn't refuse.

I couldn't help but think about the killer lurking in the shadows, and what easy hunting grounds this must be for him. This girl didn't know me from Adam, and yet she was inviting me to have a drink because I had a cute dog. If the killer had any kind of social skills, Oyster Avenue would be like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

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