Not that he was complaining—Jenny was happy, and that’s all he cared about.

He watched a half hour of news on the twenty-four-hour cable channel and became drowsy. He hadn’t heard anything outside, not even the wind—though a storm was supposed to be coming to town early in the week.

He turned off the television and went to his small den, pushing aside work he’d brought home for the weekend. He moved his mouse and his screen popped to life, then he googled information about a killer in Spokane. An article had been published late that afternoon, after the police had a press conference. Pretty much what the cop who’d come to his door had said. Some guy was randomly killing teachers.

Why Liberty Lake?

A former student?

The police didn’t have any real information, and there were a lot of teachers in the Spokane Valley.

Still, it made him uneasy. He knew many of the teachers in the area—he’d worked with them, socialized with them. And the reporter pointed out that the nurse who had been killed at the lake wasn’t even from here. She lived and worked in Spokane.

Jeffrey was a nice guy, and he knew it. It’s probably why he was still single. He didn’t particularly like dating, and he was more of a homebody. His idea of the perfect woman was a teacher who loved working with kids, who liked coming home after work and watching television or sitting on the couch curled up with a book. Someone who liked long walks and an occasional hike or camping trip, but still preferred being home in front of a fire. Maybe have kids, maybe not. He’d considered getting a dog—he’d had one when he moved out of his parents’ house, but Rollie died two years back of old age.

There were no updates to the news article.

Jeffrey was beat; he didn’t really want to listen to the press briefing—the reporter had been clear about what was going on. It was now well after one in the morning, and he had a full day planned tomorrow.

Today, he reminded himself, he’d be careful—he wasn’t an idiot. He’d hang out with his sister and family all day. Maybe even spend the night. In fact, if his sister had heard the news, she’d probably insist. That didn’t bother him. He liked her kids and her husband. They could make a game night out of it.

He turned off all the lights except the small light above the kitchen stove, then went back to bed. He’d been reading in bed when the police came to his door—well, he’d fallen asleep reading in bed. He picked up his book, but his eyes were drooping, so he marked his page, turned off the lamp, and drifted off to sleep.

24

Liberty Lake
After Midnight

Rage burned beneath his skin. The killer wanted to tear that FBI agent apart limb by limb. Cut him into tiny pieces and throw them in the goddamn fucking lake!