Smoke and Mirrors

60

Paulus Styer stood under the showerhead, letting the cold water wash a red river of blood down the drain. He was satisfied that the cutouts had been only monitoring Massey, the sheriff, and the FBI agent, figuring Styer would show up. That much they had certainly been right about. He smiled at the fact-which he had proved many times before-that the organized opposition was made up of lesser men. They had been on his trail for years and he had effortlessly stayed well ahead of them, leading them around by their noses and kicking them in their collective ass. Now he had killed two more of them. He hoped to kill a lot more before this, his last game played strictly for sport, was over and it was time to tally it all up.

He turned off the water and dried his false face off carefully, running the towel over his body and combing his wet hair. He checked the seams and was satisfied that they were hidden. Using the towel might dislodge the latex panel at his hairline. He studied his features in the mirror and went into the next room to get dressed so he could get on with the business of killing Winter Massey and the Gardners. He also needed to check in on Cynthia and call her daddy again.