Smoke and Mirrors

37

Paulus Styer pulled the van back into the equipment barn. He found Cynthia asleep in the mummy bag in her tarp-covered car, still knocked out from her last injection. A corpse would take less of his valuable time, but he had decided to keep her alive for the time being. If he changed his mind, there would be plenty of time to finish her before he had her mother and brother in the same place, and then he could stage all three of their accidental deaths. His instructions were clear, but how he accomplished the task was up to him. It was nice to be in a position of trust, though he had more than earned it over the years.

He watched the girl’s eyes slowly open and he saw the fear gathering in them, so he quickly took out the syringe and, leaning over, gave her another injection. This time she would not be asleep as long as she had been before, but he was going to move her closer to his base of operations, and somebody might come along to check on the equipment.

After she closed her eyes, Styer lifted her and carried her to the waiting van. As he laid her inside, he was sure he heard something and went to the open door. Looking out, he saw a truck pull into the fields from the woods. He pressed the switch to close the massive overhead doors, cursing the slowness of the winch that growled as it dropped the steel door from the ceiling. He ran to the van and took out his pistol, waiting as the door finally closed and went quiet.

He moved to the personnel door, cracked it open, and watched as the sheriff’s truck moved slowly toward the building. He didn’t see how they could have tracked him, but they must have seen the big door closing.

Angry that he had left the gate open, he cursed the fact that Massey and the sheriff were taking all the fun out of his operation. But Styer was prey with teeth. He smiled as he thought, What is, is.