Graeme sank to his knees, terrified. Nausea gripped his stomach.
"Do you believe me, Graeme?" Rachel asked. "Do you believe I'll do it?"
He tried to talk but choked on the words.
"I can't hear you, Graeme."
"Yes, yes, I believe you!"
And he did.
"So tell me, do you still want to come inside?" Rachel asked.
Graeme fled without answering her. He had never felt so destroyed. She had proved once again that she was the one who held the real power. He returned downstairs and paced in the den, adrift. The trouble was that he was still enormously aroused. His penis was rock hard, and his desire for her was so strong that he wanted to go back upstairs and fuck her anyway, even knowing the consequences. But he knew Rachel wasn't lying. She would do to him exactly what she promised.
He felt himself drawn toward something ugly and familiar, like a star caught in the inexorable gravity of a black hole. He told himself that he wanted to pull away, but the truth was that he needed it, wanted it, would do anything for it. He tried to be calm, but his fingers were jittery again, and sweat gathered at his armpits and on his skin like a clammy film. He felt something stirring in his soul, a door opening, a shadowy figure awakening.
Please, no, he pleaded with the monster inside.
But it wasn't listening. It played with him like a child with a doll, making his limbs move and telling him what to do.
Rachel, this is your fault.
"Go," the monster rumbled, sounding so unlike a monster, so like himself.
Sounding so…immoral.
Graeme grabbed his keys and went out through the front door. The air was fragile. On an August night, it shouldn't have been dark so early, but the shroud of storm clouds overhead left the western sky almost black. The shifting wind made the oak branches whip angrily.
He made it almost to the detached garage before realizing the way was blocked. Rachel had parked directly across the two doors, trapping his van inside. Graeme cursed. When he glanced up at her bedroom window overhead, he saw her standing there, watching him with an icy smile. The very glimpse of her set his pulse racing. But he scowled, stretching his face muscles tight. His eyes were furious black dots. He kicked her rear fender, hard enough to leave a dent.
He stood outside, thinking furiously. Raindrops began to leave dark splotches on his clothes. Then he had an idea. The thought of it made him grin up at Rachel in the window. She frowned, reading his mind.
He stormed back into the house and panted as he ran up the stairs. In his bedroom, he rifted through Emily's dresser, dumping jewelry cases and cosmetics on the floor. He pawed to the far back of the drawers, groping through the mess. Finally, he heard a jangle as his fingers touched them. He pulled them out, his excitement growing. Emily's old spare keys.
He snatched them up and ran back outside, slamming the door shut behind him. He looked back up at Rachel's window, but she was gone. At the car, he fumbled with the keys. The rain made his fingers slippery, and he dropped them on the driveway. He bent down, grabbing the key ring, and shoved one key into the lock. It turned. The car door opened.
Nervous, Graeme looked around. He was alone.
"Drive," the monster growled. "Hunt."
He gripped the wheel so fiercely that it grew sticky from the sweat on his palms. Nuisance rain spat on his windshield, a mist that the wipers couldn't seem to wipe away. He sought out the back roads. His need was even more urgent being in the car, where the smell of Rachel was everywhere. She might as well have been seated next to him, teasing him with her cold green eyes. The memory of having sex with her was so intense he could still feel her fingers gliding over his skin.
"Hunt."
He headed uphill from Lakeside, quickly leaving the developed areas behind him as he climbed. Within five miles, he was driving through a deserted stretch bordered closely by stands of birch trees on either side of the highway. It was now pouring and completely dark, forcing him to slow down and peer through his headlights to see.
He drifted onto the right-hand shoulder. At the last second, he made out a girl jogging on the shoulder, directly ahead of him, distinct from the shadows of the trees. He braked and swerved the wheel sharply to steer around her, catching a glimpse of fear in the girl's eyes as she saw the car and dove off the road to avoid it.
Graeme pulled off and stopped, leaving the motor running. He hurried back and found the girl picking herself up and brushing dirt and mud from her skin. Her features were difficult to distinguish in the darkness, but she appeared to be about Rachel's age, with long chestnut hair tied in a ponytail. She had an athletic build and was dressed in tight shorts and a sports bra.
"I'm so sorry," Graeme said. "Are you all right?"
The girl took a few steps, favoring one ankle. "I'm okay. Probably just a sprain."
His eyes adjusted enough for him to make her out more clearly. She was young and very attractive, with a sweet vulnerability as she perched gingerly on her good ankle, strands of hair falling loose from her ponytail, her clothes and skin soaked by the rain.
"Come on, let me drive you home," Graeme said, holding out an arm to help her walk.
He smiled, reassuring her, hating himself for what he was doing. It's not me. It's the monster. There's a difference.
She took his arm, steadying herself. He was conscious of her touch. Her body was close enough to envelop him in an aroma of sweat and rain. He unlocked and opened the rear door, taking a quick glance up and down the deserted road.
"Why don't you sit in back so you can keep your ankle elevated?" he suggested.
The girl scooted inside. He leaned in, watching her get settled. The dome light illuminated her, sitting with her head propped against the opposite window. Her moist face had a rosy glow from her long run. Her eyes were bright. She stretched out her right leg on the seat and let the other dangle on the floor of the car. He saw her muscled calves and thighs and traced the Lycra where it met in a V at her crotch. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing, and he watched her breasts swell. She smiled shyly.
"I'm getting the seats all wet," the girl said.
"It's all right," Graeme replied. He let the moment linger a little too long, and her smile eroded into a nervous laugh. A hint of uncertainty clouded her eyes. Suddenly, he felt that she could see through him and recognize his intentions.
Graeme shut the door and climbed into the front seat. He looked back and gave her a winning smile. "I have to make one stop, then we'll head back to town. Okay?"
"Oh. Sure." The girl bit her lower lip. He could see questions forming in her mind and the first glimmer of fear.
Put her at ease.
"I'm Graeme," he said. "What's your name?"
"Kerry," the girl said, squeezing some of the dampness from her hair. "Kerry McGrath."
Serena's eyes were lost somewhere, focused beyond the city. He knew it was Graeme she could see in her brain. Trolling the back roads, hunting the way a tiger hunts. Graeme, coming upon an innocent teenage girl whose only sin was to go running at the wrong time and in the wrong place.
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Stride took a deep breath and nodded. "Graeme killed Kerry. Rachel knew. That was the beginning."
"But after Rachel disappeared, your team went over Graeme's van with a microscope. It's hard to believe he didn't leave something behind."
"He did," Stride said. "We were just looking in the wrong place."
Serena's brow furled in confusion. Then she exhaled in disgust as she put it together. "That son of a bitch. He used Rachel's car."
"Exactly," Stride said. "That was what we missed all along. I remember listening to the testimony at Graeme's trial and thinking there was something I hadn't caught. It was right there in front of me, and I never made the connection. Kevin and Emily both testified about Graeme buying Rachel a new car to replace the old hand-me-down from her mother. I should have recognized the timeline-the red VW, purchased almost immediately after Kerry disappeared. And what did Rachel call it? The Blood Bug. Oh, yeah, she knew. She was going to pay him back-her way."