Aim to Kill Read Online Free Page B

in just so ; the crumbs on his place mat carefully shaken into the garbage; then the garbage—only a quarter full—taken out to the trash can by the side of the house.
    The thought of letting garbage rot in his house all day made him ill.
    Another quick glance at the newspaper got him thinking again about Harry as he locked up the cottage and walked to his job at the beachside restaurant.
    Stealing Harry’s truck that long-ago night had been a spontaneous act. He hadn’t known exactly what he was doing, just a vague idea. Then he saw her and knew. She’d been sent to him, to replace the Angel he’d lost. He had quickly formed a plan, and it had been almost perfect. He frowned, thinking of the spunky little brat who had tried to stop him. Then he returned the truck before Harry had even noticed its absence.
    What he hadn’t expected was the police finding the truck, but that discovery ended up being a blessing.
    He’d learned many important lessons after Harry was convicted of murder.
    Be careful. Don’t leave any evidence of yourself anywhere.
    Keep moving. Be patient. Don’t rush. Let the sweet anticipation build, but control it. Don’t let the need control you. Be smarter than the cops. Know when to move on.
    It was all a matter of discipline. Something he’d been taught well.
    One niggling mistake soured the otherwise pleasant day. Harry had been released because of DNA evidence, which meant the authorities had his DNA.
    He would have to be doubly careful from now on.
     
    CHAPTER
    4
    Olivia grabbed the paper as it slid off the laser printer, her eyes scanning the information, her heart beating fast as her theory solidified.
    Patterns.
    Missy’s killer had left Redwood City after her murder, probably because Brian Hall had been arrested and was going to take the fall for Missy’s death. He lay low for a couple years before resurfacing in
New York
, where he raped and killed four blonde girls in the Albany suburbs before disappearing.
    Then two in Lawrence,
Kansas
. A known sex offender was arrested, tried, and convicted and was now sitting on death row for those murders. But Olivia was ninety-nine percent sure that man was innocent of those particular crimes.
    Four more girls killed in Atlanta.
    Four in Nashville.
    The list went on. Years separated his crimes, but Olivia had uncovered twenty-nine murders in thirty-four years that fit the same pattern.
    Blonde girls between the ages of nine and twelve.
    Sexually assaulted. Underpants taken.
    Dumped facedown in a relatively public location, usually a rest stop off a sparsely traveled road, or an industrial park at night.
    The reports she had access to were sparse. She wished she could view the autopsy reports and the lab notes, but most were not computerized. The older the crimes, the less information she had. But the key commonality, the factor that convinced Olivia she had found the link, was the missing lock of hair. The killer had been taking “souvenirs” from his victims, a piece of his victims he could see or touch to relive his crimes.
    “What are you doing?”
    Olivia jumped, her hand to her chest. “Greg! You startled me.”
    “You were deep in thought. So deep you missed the senior staff meeting.”
    She glanced at the clock. Noon already? How did the time escape her? “I’m sorry, I was working on . . .” She bit her cheek. She couldn’t think of a convincing lie, especially on the fly.
    Greg frowned and pulled the document from her hand. His scowl deepened as he opened the file folder on her desk and realized what she’d spent the last two weeks doing.
    “I can explain,” she began, though she had no idea what to say.
    “You don’t need to explain to me, Olivia. I understand you need to find out who killed your sister. But why didn’t you talk to me first?”
    “I don’t know. It’s kind of personal.” More than personal; guilt sat like a lead weight on her shoulders. Her testimony against Brian Hall had enabled an evil predator