Chapter Fifty-five
Lily Ann Denton. There was a kind of familiarity with the name. Olivia hadn’t given it a lot of thought, but as she sat in the kitchen with the TV going and the coffeepot brewing, the name came up on the morning news. It triggered something. She wasn’t sure what. The news report indicated that Lily Ann had been found murdered—butchered—off a highway near San Diego. According to the reporter standing in front of the coroner’s office in a crisp blue shirt and wine-red tie, the girl was twenty-two.
The case was now considered cold and the family had put up a $50,000 reward for any information leading to the arrest and conviction of their daughter’s killer.
“Lily Ann was many things to her family and friends, a creative interior designer, a loyal sorority sister, and a loving daughter. But right now, the family wants to put all of that aside,” the earnest reporter said.
The next cut showed a man and woman, well-heeled, sitting on a leather couch with an ocean view behind them. It was likely their home. Despite the somewhat dated furnishings. But they were clearly loaded. The woman had ice-cube size diamonds on each stretched earlobe.
“Our daughter was our life. She was our only child. We want to find out who did this to her….” Mrs. Denton’s voice trailed off and her husband reached for the mic to take over.
“We want to catch the SOB who killed Lily Ann. Please help us.”
Olivia poured some coffee, but it smelled burned and made her sick. Her stomach was in knots. Something about the name seemed to call to her, but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know Lily Ann Denton. She didn’t really have that many friends down in San Diego.
It niggled at her brain throughout the day.
He thought of Lily Ann and how he killed her. He’d done some reading on serial killers and knew enough that he wanted to mix up his technique to throw off the investigators who would want to stop him before his work was done. Animals had taken care of his first victim, Tiffany. The investigators knew she’d been murdered, but they didn’t know that he’d wrapped an electrical cord around her neck. He’d taken a washcloth soaked in chloroform and covered her lip-glossed mouth until she fell limp. He’d shoved her in the back of his trunk and gone for a snack.
She was alive when he took her to the rest stop and opened the trunk.
“Please don’t do this,” she said, crying so hard that she could barely spit out her words.
“You shouldn’t have done what you did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking—”
He pulled her out of the trunk in the middle of her sentence.
“Shut up. Shut up or I’ll kill you.”
He loved the lie. The promise of false hope that his words gave.
It was dark and the sound of the freeway rolled like an ocean. Save for a lone trucker sleeping with his refrigerated truck idling, the place was empty.
“Are you going to rape me?” she said.
The thought of raping her made him recoil. He’d never rape anyone. He’d known firsthand what that was like.
“I won’t tell anyone,” she said, pleading with terror-filled eyes.
Everyone’s last words.
He pulled out battery-powered hair clippers. The buzz almost roared in her ears as he held her still. He tightened his grip. All she did was cry as her beauty fell to the dirt.
He was mute as he reached for the knife in his jacket and drove it through her chest. Lily Ann Denton barely gasped as the life drained from her blue eyes. She slumped to the ground and he sliced her flesh like the belly of a fish. Her organs, shiny in the glow from the parking lot lights, spilled onto the dirt.
This is messier than last time.
It bothered him that she’d thought he was going to rape her. He would never do that.
The last thing he did was snap the golden chain from her neck, careful not to let the two special letters fall into the clump of ice plant pooled with her already coagulating blood.
Now he had two such souvenirs. A very good start. Almost done.