Roses Are Red

Chapter Eighty-Nine

The more dangerous it was, the better the thrill. The Mastermind already knew the truth in that maxim, and this was dangerous indeed. The money was nice; but the money wasn't enough. It was the danger that got his adrenaline flowing and turned him on.

FBI agent James Walsh lived alone in a small rented ranch house out in Alexandria. The house was as plain and unassuming as Agent Walsh himself. It suited his personality perfectly. It was such an 'honest' and 'forthcoming' abode.

The Mastermind had little trouble getting into the house and that didn't surprise him. Police officers could be incredibly sloppy about security systems in their own homes. Walsh was lax, or maybe he was just arrogant.

He wanted to get in and out quickly, but the Mastermind didn't want to be careless. The floorboards creaked. He already knew that he'd been inside the house before.

The floorboards continued to make distressing noises as he got closer and closer to James Walsh's bedroom.

The more dangerous, the better. The more outrageous, the greater the thrill.

That was how it always worked for him.

He slowly, silently pushed open the bedroom door and he started to enter, when

"Don't move, "Walsh said from the semi-darkness of the room.

He could just barely see the FBI agent across the bedroom. Walsh had positioned himself behind the bed. He had a shotgun in his hands. Walsh kept the gun under his bed, never slept without it there.

"You can see the gun, mister. It's aimed right at your goddamned chest. I won't miss you, I promise."

"So I see," the Mastermind said and chuckled softly. "Checkmate, huh? You caught the Mastermind. How clever of you."

Still smiling, he started to walk toward Walsh.

The more dangerous, the better.

"Don't! Stop!" Walsh suddenly yelled at him. "Stop or I'll shoot!

STOP!"

"Yes, as you promised," the Mastermind said.

He didn't stop, didn't slow down a step, kept coming inexorably.

Then he heard Agent Walsh pull the trigger. The single action that was supposed to cause his death, stop his world, solve the crime spree. But nothing happened.

"Awhh, and you promised, Agent Walsh."

He put his own handgun against the FBI agent's forehead. With his free hand, he brushed across Walsh's crewcut head.

"I'm the Mastermind, you're not. You've been dying to catch me, but I've caught you. I emptied your shotgun. I'm going to catch all of you. One by one. Agents Walsh, Doud, Cavalierre. Maybe even Detective Alex Cross. You're all going to die."