Chapters (65)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty–one
- Twenty–two
- Twenty–three
- Twenty–four
- Twenty–five
- Twenty–six
- Twenty–seven
- Twenty–eight
- Twenty–nine
- Thirty
- Thirty–one
- Thirty–two
- Thirty–three
- Thirty–four
- Thirty–five
- Thirty–six
- Thirty–seven
- Thirty–eight
- Thirty–nine
- Forty
- Forty–one
- Forty–two
- Forty–three
- Forty–four
- Forty–five
- Forty–six
- Forty–seven
- Forty–eight
- Forty–nine
- Fifty
- Fifty–one
- Fifty–two
- Fifty–three
- Fifty–four
- Fifty–five
- Fifty–six
- Fifty–seven
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Becky Masterman
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
He shut the door behind him. Gloria still didn’t have much of a clue about what was going on, but she did look startled at the shout from Carlo which had come through the closed door. Beaufort figured it was only a matter of time before she started putting things together, especially once the bodies were discovered and things got on the news. At one time he thought he might bring her around to understanding that he was not a bad man, and they could have a life together, but the little scene in the living room told him that was unlikely. He regretted this.
Beaufort was across the room while he thought and regretted, and had Gloria’s arms pinned to her sides and her body on the bed before she had time for even one good scream.
It didn’t take long to straddle her to where she couldn’t fight him off. The plastic bag went over her head easily, and allowed less airflow than the pillow alone would have done. “That’s it, go ahead and scream,” he said, feeling the vibration through the pillow. When the scream was done he said, “Hush now, babe.” He said it more to himself, knowing she couldn’t hear much.
He watched the bedside clock as he pressed down. It took a good eight minutes to make sure she was dead, longer than Santangelo but better than leaving marks or blood. Eight minutes is a long time when there’s nothing to do but press down. Once she stopped struggling so much Beaufort heard himself humming the old tune, stopping to make that popping sound with his mouth at the end of each musical phrase. What he did when he was enjoying himself.
He was enjoying this. He had been able to assure himself that he hadn’t enjoyed killing Santangelo or arranging for the deaths of Meadows and Quinn, but this, this gave him little thrums of pleasure that coursed through his body.
He forced himself to stop humming, hoping that stopping that would stop the feelings, but he could not deny the pleasure. His face grew hot, and a string of no no no no no popped like silent firecrackers in his mind.
When Gloria was certainly dead, he got off the bed, reeling a little. He didn’t think they’d been noisy, but he could hear Carlo yelling. Had he been yelling the entire eight minutes? Beaufort could also hear Achilles snuffling at the door, like he wanted to get away from what was going on in the bedroom.
Beaufort bent down and petted Achilles. “That’s a boy, that’s a good boy,” he said, and hoped that way to retrieve the feelings of regret. “You stay in here with Mommy now. We’ll go for a walk in a bit.”