The Watcher. BEVERLY BARTON
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dead, their wonderful game over.
His new game was only a few months old, yet he already realized that without an opponent, without the psychological stimulation of competition, it just wasn’t the same. The hunt was exhilarating, the kill a sublime climax, but the titillating pleasure of the preparation and planning as well as the triumph afterward were missing from his murder game. He now had no one with whom to share either.
He trusted no one the way he had trusted Ruddy, both of them knowing from their teens that they were different from others. Special. Superior. He could hardly run an ad in the paper for another partner, could he? Wanted: Cunning sadist to compete in a highly skilled game of hunt and kill. Winner takes all. Loser dies.
As Pudge crossed over the Arkansas border into Louisiana, heading toward Bastrop, he chuckled at the thought of advertising for an adversary.
It wouldn’t take long to reach Monroe, then he’d go on to Alexandria, where he’d hit Interstate 49, which would take him home. He might even stop for dinner somewhere along the way.
He had put a bullet into Kendall Moore’s head only three days ago and had returned her body to a secluded area just outside her hometown of Ballinger. As he had done with the others, he had taken a trophy. A little souvenir. Something to add to his growing collection.
Removing his gaze from the road momentarily, he glanced down at the small, round box nestled securely on the passenger side floorboard. Kendall had possessed a mane of short brown hair. Thick and curly. Like heavy satin to the touch.
Sighing deeply, he thought about touching her hair again, about caressing it tenderly as he recalled, over and over again, those final moments of her life.
Griffin Powell envied his old friend. Judd Walker had been to hell and back. Now, thanks to the love of a good woman, he had survived and had a wonderful life. A life that he appreciated in a way only a man who had come close to self-destructing could. Seeing the happiness in Judd’s eyes every time he looked at his wife and infant daughter, Griff knew how much Judd valued the priceless second chance he had been given.
If anyone knew about second chances, Griff did.
Judd slapped Griff on the back. “Come on outside and help me put these steaks on the grill.” He held up the tray of marinated meat in his other hand. “Cam’s got it all fired up and ready to go.”
“Just how many chefs do you need manning the grill?” Griff asked before upending his beer bottle to finish off the last drops.
Judd shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I thought you might want to get away from the ladies for a few minutes. That is, unless you’re dying to listen once again to all the details of how we decorated the nursery, went through childbirth classes together, and how I nearly fainted during Emily’s delivery.”
Griff smiled as he glanced across the room to where the visiting ladies—Rachel Carter, Cam’s latest girlfriend, and Griff’s date, Lisa Kay Smithe—sat at the kitchen table chatting with Lindsay Walker. Little Miss Emily Chisholm Walker slept soundly in her mother’s arms. Lindsay McAllister, now Lindsay Walker, had traded her Private Investigator license and 9mm for a bucolic life out in the country with her husband and baby.
Griff had never seen her happier.
Lindsay deserved to be happy. She’d earned it.
He loved her like a little sister and wanted only the best for her.
“I think I’ll leave all the baby talk to the ladies,” Griff said as he followed Judd outside and onto the patio. Judd had added the patio to the old Walker family hunting lodge that he and Lindsay had renovated shortly after their marriage last year.
Griff wasn’t much for family get-togethers and backyard barbecues. Not that he wasn’t enjoying himself today. Not that there was anywhere else he’d rather be. He could count true friends on his fingers, a short list, with Judd and Lindsay among the chosen few. Griff and Judd went back quite a few years, pre-Lindsay years. They’d been playboy pals even before Judd’s first marriage. And Judd had been buddies with Camden Hendrix since the two attended law school together. Like Griff, Cam had come from nothing and was a self-made man, while Judd came from generations of old Tennessee money. And Griff and Cam were both confirmed bachelors fast approaching their fortieth birthdays.
“How do you like your steak, Griff?” Cam asked as he took the tray from Judd and placed it on the side table by the state-of-the-art built-in grill.
Realizing that through all the years they’d known each other, this barbecue was a first for them, Griff eyed Cam with a raised eyebrow. The All-American blue-eyed, sandy-haired trial lawyer was casually dressed, wearing a white apron over his University of Tennessee T-shirt and cutoff jeans. “Medium,” Griff replied to the question.
Cam grinned. “Really? I’d have pegged you for a rare kind of guy.”
“Nope.”
“Don’t like it raw, huh?” Cam chuckled as he nodded toward the back door. “Wonder if Ms. Smithe would prefer a guy who does take it raw?”
Griff’s good-natured smile never wavered. “You’re more than welcome to ask her. But what about the lady you brought to the dance? Won’t she expect you to dance that last dance with her?”
“We could swap partners,” Cam suggested.
“Will you two stop that?” Judd glanced at the screened door that led from the patio to the screened porch. “I’m an old married man and if my wife heard such talk out of you two, she might forbid me to ever invite y’all back.”
Cam and Griff laughed out loud.
“How the mighty have fallen,” Griff said.
“He’s pussy-whipped,” Cam joked.
“Sure am,” Judd told them. “And damn proud of it.”
Griff knew that if any man on earth was devoted to his wife, Judd was. And he didn’t blame him. If a woman ever loved him the way Lindsay loved Judd …
There had been a time when they had exchanged girlfriends, had passed them around, and none of the women had objected in the least. As a matter of fact, Judd, Cam, and he had speculated that the ladies they dated were probably keeping score, comparing each man to the other two and sharing their preferences with one another. When Jennifer Mobley entered their lives, they had vied for her affection, each of them dating her in turn. Judd had won that particular prize. He’d fallen head over heels for Jenny. They were still newlyweds when Jenny had become one of the Beauty Queen Killer’s victims. That had been more than five years
ago.
And lucky son of a bitch that he was, Judd had found the right woman for a second time.
Griff figured that sooner or later, Cam would succumb to love. When he least expected it, the right woman would come along and knock his socks off.
But Griff didn’t expect to ever marry or father a child. He had far too much baggage to bring into any relationship. A past that no woman would understand. Demons plagued him. Soul-deep demons, from which he could never escape.
Nicole Baxter sprawled leisurely on the rustic wooden chaise lounge with thickly padded cushions in a hideous floral print. The day was hot, the breeze slightly humid, the air heavy. She lifted the large glass from the deck floor up to her lips and sipped the sweet tea. As she glanced high overhead and saw an eagle in flight, she rubbed the cool glass across one cheek and then the other. Nearby the soft trickle of a small stream drummed melodically in her ears and the rustle of the moist air through the towering treetops reminded her that the weather forecasters had mentioned an afternoon rainstorm.
If it rained, she’d go inside the rental cabin, choose one of the half dozen paperbacks she had brought, then curl up on the sofa and read. If it didn’t rain, she’d probably change clothes and go hiking.
Glancing down at her seen-better-days shorts, oversize cotton T-shirt, and bare feet, she sighed. Maybe she wouldn’t go anywhere. Maybe she’d