The Perfect Scream Read Online Free
rarely asked Stallings about his shaky relationship with his estranged wife. She realized now it was a two-way street between Stallings and the lieutenant. He may be able to say things to her, but she could say things to him no one else could.
Sergeant Zuni still thought Stallings was acting strangely.
Lynn had worked out all the permutations and probabilities of being caught by the police. That’s what she did. She was a numbers girl. And she wanted to see numbers and information on paper. Her days at Florida State had taught her the value of research and understanding a subject from all angles. Her bachelor’s degree was in general business but her minor was in statistics. She thought the possibility of her being stopped before she completed her grim task was statistically unlikely. That was if she stayed on the same cautious, prepared, and determined path. She had once heard that soldiers with those three traits are the most effective fighting units. In a way she felt like she was in a war. There was a clear enemy and a clear goal, and she had already killed for her cause.
But she didn’t want to lose herself in this mission. Lynn knew for a fact that she was different. Different from other people. Different from other bookkeepers. And different from other killers. Because, if she had to be honest with herself, that was what she was: a killer.
The first time she had done it she’d been shaky. It was too elaborate and unpredictable. But it worked. It worked like nothing she’d ever expected. The flames. The screams. The satisfaction.
The second time seemed harder. More personal. She recalled every detail. Holding her father’s blue metal Smith & Wesson Model 36 revolver in both hands. Her dad had so many guns she knew he’d never notice one was missing from his safe for a few days. She’d been shocked he could tell the gun had been fired just by the smell of it. He knew it been fired and not cleaned. Luckily, with all that had happened, he just wrote it off as a lapse in memory. He never thought his baby girl had used it to pump three bullets into Kirk behind the auto parts store he managed.
The act of killing someone, of taking his life, no matter who it was or how much he deserved it, had changed her. The shooting had been tough. Lynn had trembled almost as badly as Kirk did when he started to plead for his life. Lynn had made it a point to look him in the eyes and let him know what she was doing. She wanted him to realize the consequences for his actions just as she understood the consequences for hers.
In the final moment he recognized her and just as he said, “Aren’t you . . .” she pulled the trigger. The initial shock of the gunshot and the blood had stunned her into silence; then she stepped up and pumped two more rounds into his chest to make certain he was dead.
She had seen it on the news two days in a row but never heard another word about the incident. There were no witnesses, no clues and, as far as the city was concerned, no justice.
She had spent almost a month assessing what she had done and how. She was careful to use different ways to kill her victims because she wanted to minimize the possibility of being caught because, unlike many killers, she still wanted to have a normal life.
Once all this business was done.
John Stallings drove directly to the tiny, lonely house he had rented while he and Maria worked out issues with their marriage. The stress of losing Jeanie, work, and life had been too much for Maria, who had hidden a serious drug problem from the world for years. Now that she had her head screwed on straight she’d decided he was the root of many of her and the family’s problems. His obsessive nature and dedication to the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office had left him distant and emotionally unapproachable. That was the phrase some shrink had fed into Maria’s head and she blurted it out whenever things got tough.
All that seemed unimportant
Sergeant Zuni still thought Stallings was acting strangely.
Lynn had worked out all the permutations and probabilities of being caught by the police. That’s what she did. She was a numbers girl. And she wanted to see numbers and information on paper. Her days at Florida State had taught her the value of research and understanding a subject from all angles. Her bachelor’s degree was in general business but her minor was in statistics. She thought the possibility of her being stopped before she completed her grim task was statistically unlikely. That was if she stayed on the same cautious, prepared, and determined path. She had once heard that soldiers with those three traits are the most effective fighting units. In a way she felt like she was in a war. There was a clear enemy and a clear goal, and she had already killed for her cause.
But she didn’t want to lose herself in this mission. Lynn knew for a fact that she was different. Different from other people. Different from other bookkeepers. And different from other killers. Because, if she had to be honest with herself, that was what she was: a killer.
The first time she had done it she’d been shaky. It was too elaborate and unpredictable. But it worked. It worked like nothing she’d ever expected. The flames. The screams. The satisfaction.
The second time seemed harder. More personal. She recalled every detail. Holding her father’s blue metal Smith & Wesson Model 36 revolver in both hands. Her dad had so many guns she knew he’d never notice one was missing from his safe for a few days. She’d been shocked he could tell the gun had been fired just by the smell of it. He knew it been fired and not cleaned. Luckily, with all that had happened, he just wrote it off as a lapse in memory. He never thought his baby girl had used it to pump three bullets into Kirk behind the auto parts store he managed.
The act of killing someone, of taking his life, no matter who it was or how much he deserved it, had changed her. The shooting had been tough. Lynn had trembled almost as badly as Kirk did when he started to plead for his life. Lynn had made it a point to look him in the eyes and let him know what she was doing. She wanted him to realize the consequences for his actions just as she understood the consequences for hers.
In the final moment he recognized her and just as he said, “Aren’t you . . .” she pulled the trigger. The initial shock of the gunshot and the blood had stunned her into silence; then she stepped up and pumped two more rounds into his chest to make certain he was dead.
She had seen it on the news two days in a row but never heard another word about the incident. There were no witnesses, no clues and, as far as the city was concerned, no justice.
She had spent almost a month assessing what she had done and how. She was careful to use different ways to kill her victims because she wanted to minimize the possibility of being caught because, unlike many killers, she still wanted to have a normal life.
Once all this business was done.
John Stallings drove directly to the tiny, lonely house he had rented while he and Maria worked out issues with their marriage. The stress of losing Jeanie, work, and life had been too much for Maria, who had hidden a serious drug problem from the world for years. Now that she had her head screwed on straight she’d decided he was the root of many of her and the family’s problems. His obsessive nature and dedication to the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office had left him distant and emotionally unapproachable. That was the phrase some shrink had fed into Maria’s head and she blurted it out whenever things got tough.
All that seemed unimportant
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