Page 21 of Dark Shadows
Her laugh was sharp and grating. The sound clawed under his skin.
“I can’t believe she showed her face again.”
She moved through the house with the foolish sense that locked doors made her safe. She acted like no one could touch her.
Every word dug deeper. She had no idea someone was listening. He’d heard every filthy, twisted thing that came out of her mouth.
She’d always gossiped; truth be damned.
Tonight, he’d take her voice.
Tonight, he’d take everything.
“Seriously, she just strolled in like nothing ever happened.”
Her wine glass sloshed as she set it beside her microwaved dinner for one.
“She’s probably here to clean up loose ends. Or maybe she’s the one behind it all. Who else would’ve known where to dig?”
His fingers twitched. The rage burned hotter in his chest.
The need to silence her pulled at him to act.
If she’d just get off the damn phone.
He’d waited this long. He could wait a little longer.
“And now she’s got the feds sniffing around. Probably trying to play hero. Or maybe the villain. She’s probably the one who committed the murders.”
His fists clenched tight.
“I know. Listen, I’ve got to eat and then get to bed. I’m exhausted serving those ingrates all day.” Another pause. “Talk to you later.”
She ended the call, dropped her phone onto the dining room table, and sank into a chair. The smirk on her face remained.
He stepped from the shadows. Every move was deliberate and quiet.
She didn’t notice the shift in the air.
Didn’t hear the soft creak of the floor behind her.
By the time she sensed him, it was too late.
No scream. Just a flicker of confusion. A gasp.
He struck hard with his fist, and even that did little to ease the anger burning in his chest.
She slumped into her food. Wine spilled across the table.
He moved through the house. The kitchen. The garage.
Two mixing bowls. Rope. Everything he needed was at his disposal.
He tied her to the chair and turned her away from the table. Her hair was matted with mashed potatoes and gravy.
He looped the rope around her shoulders first and then arms, tying the knots with practiced ease.
The bowls went on the floor beneath her wrists. He pulled the needle out of his jacket and uncapped it, shoving the needle into Beverly’s arm, he pressed the plunger, sending the ketamine into her veins.
