The Killing Kind

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

March 27

The blare of a television roused Zoe as she emerged from the embrace of the soundest sleep she’d experienced in some time. She groaned and sat up, still feeling groggy as she rubbed her bleary eyes. She winced at the obnoxious, excited tones of the television-news announcer coming from the living room. Her door was shut, but the volume of the news report was such that the TV might as well have been right there in the room with her. Zoe started feeling a little pissed off. It had been nice to sleep so deeply, undisturbed by thoughts of having to get up at a certain time. It was one of the best things about being on vacation.

Someone was about to get a piece of her mind. And maybe even a swift kick in the ass. She rolled out of bed and scooped up a tank top. She pulled it on and stepped into the still-wet bottom piece of her bikini. Her eyes flicked to the clock on the nightstand to the left of the bed. The digital display showed the time as being after one p.m. Her anger cooled a little. It was hours later than she’d imagined. She was still upset, but the lateness of the hour meant she would come off as kind of psycho if she were to stomp out there and bitch about it. Okay. Fine. She could be more subtle about making her displeasure known. With the right combination of calm, measured tones and carefully chosen words of polite disdain, she could shame the offender just as thoroughly as she could with a loud diatribe.

She strode purposefully out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the living room. The sight that greeted her was so initially puzzling, the last of her anger was instantly forgotten and her complaint went unvoiced.

Her friends were all present. Chuck stood over by the bar in the entertainment area adjacent to the living room. He had a drink in his hand, naturally, but his eyes were focused on the television. He was completely transfixed by what he was seeing and hearing, as was everyone else.

Emily stood behind a sofa parked in front of the large flatscreen television. Annalisa and Sean sat at opposite ends of the sofa, each of them leaning forward and staring intently at the images on the screen. Joe stood away from them, closer to the television, shaking his head as if unable to believe what he was seeing.

Zoe got closer to the television and frowned. “What’s going on?”

Emily’s voice behind her: “A fucking bloodbath, that’s what.”

She looked at the report and saw a shot of a Walgreens parking lot cordoned off with yellow police tape. Within a few moments she knew the drugstore was the scene of a triple homicide. But she was still confused. Yeah, it was a terrible thing, but shit like this happened all the time. It sucked, but America could be a pretty fucking violent place. Why her friends should find this particular incident so mesmerizing was a mystery to her.

“I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”

Joe glanced at her. “Give it a second. You’ll see.”

Zoe wanted to smack him for not directly answering her question. But her indignation was short-lived as the report soon made the reason clear.

“Oh…shit.”

Joe laughed. “Yeah.”

The crime had occurred in Myrtle Beach, not many miles from where they were now. An uneasy feeling settled over Zoe. The idea that something so horrible had happened so close to where she’d been sleeping at the time disturbed her. She might have crossed paths with the victims or even the perpetrators any number of times over the last few days.

“Does anybody back home know about this?”

Chuck came away from the bar to stand near her. “Zoe, this is CNN. It’s national news. My dad already called, and your folks want you to call them.”

Zoe gave him a puzzled look. “What? Why?”

“They’re worried. Want to be sure you’re all right.” He shrugged and the half-empty drink sloshed in his hand. “Fair warning, though. They’re freaked out and want you to come home early.”

“What’s your dad say?”

“You know my dad. Running home would make me a pussy in his eyes.”

Emily snorted. “Right. Can’t have that happening. God forbid.”

Chuck stayed silent, refusing to take the bait. Zoe felt a surge of admiration and new respect for him. It was a downright mature reaction. It stunned her to think he’d seemed as boorish as ever only days ago.

She reached for his free hand and laced her fingers with his. “I’m a grown-up and can make my own decisions. I’m staying. My parents will just have to deal with it. Besides, this shit?” She shrugged. “Happens all the time. Come on, you’re all thinking the same thing. Sucks for the dead people, but this shit’s just random. We’re in no more danger than we were yesterday.”

“Or maybe you’re totally fucking wrong,” Annalisa piped in. She nodded at the television. “Look.”

Zoe focused on the report again. Three side-by-side photos appeared on the screen, the images of two young women and a man. Names and ages appeared beneath the pictures.

Rob Scott, 23

Julie Cosgrove, 17

Missy Wallace, 20

The three were being sought in connection to the Walgreens triple homicide. All were also suspects in other recent killings. One, the older girl, was suspected in a number of slayings going back at least four years.

She frowned. “That…sort of looks like…”

Chuck grunted. “Yeah. That goth chick.”

Annalisa managed not to sound too smug as she said, “Maybe not so random.”

“Oh, come on.” Emily’s voice dripped contempt. “Maybe that chick really is Chuck’s little goth pal. So what? Ever hear of a thing called coincidence? You can’t really think she followed us all the way from Nashville.”

Annalisa’s tone was just as sharp. “Why not? She’s here.”

“We traveled hundreds of miles. We would’ve noticed her trailing us somewhere along the way. She had no way of knowing exactly where we were going. So, yeah, it’s a fucking coincidence. Pull your head out of your ass.”

“Fuck you.”

“Again, you mean?”

Sean Hewitt’s voice: “Um…what? I think I, uh, misunderstood something.”

Emily laughed.

Zoe moved to intercede before the exchange could take an irreversibly ugly turn. “shut up!”

They all looked at her.

She sighed. “Emily’s right. Think about it. There’s no other explanation. It’s coincidence. That chick winding up here is just God fucking with us. These”-Zoe waved a hand at the television-“crazy fuckers have been too busy with their wild fucking spree to properly follow anybody.”

Annalisa stared at the screen again, but her expression now was less severe, more contemplative. A sliver of doubt had pierced her convictions. She shrugged. “Yeah. Okay. I guess I can see what you’re saying. It makes sense. It’s just…”

Emily laughed. “Fucked-up.”

Chuck headed back to the bar. “Somebody turn that shit off and put on some tunes. And I can’t be the only motherfucker in this house in dire need of a fucking drink. Who’s with me?”

It was an offer none of them could refuse.