right,” he said. “Tell me something about you that I don’t already know.”
His serious tone took her by surprise. “I hate pickles,” she told him.
“Tell me it isn’t so.”
“I’m scared to death of earthquakes,” she added.
“Hmmm,” he said, before nibbling on her earlobe.
“When I was twelve,” she went on, “I went to an ice-skating party. Hours later, they had to drag me off the ice. For years, I dreamed of being a figure skater.”
He pulled away slightly and gazed lovingly at her. “I bet you would have been an Olympian by now.”
“Your turn,” she said with a smile. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
He thought for a moment. “I like apple juice on my Cheerios.”
Her nose wrinkled. “That’s disgusting.”
“I’m pretty good at skipping stones. Fifteen skips is my record.”
“Nice.”
“I couldn’t tie my shoelaces until I was seven years old.”
“Oh, no,” she said, complete with a seriously worried face. “I’m sorry.”
It was Jared’s turn to smile.
After a long week and another long day at the office today, it felt good to unwind, especially wrapped within Jared’s arms. “Want to know something else?” she asked.
“I do.”
“I’d rather make love than watch a movie.”
Without hesitating, Jared stood, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the closest bedroom. “I have a lot to learn about you, Lizzy Gardner.”
With her arms wrapped around his neck, she laid her head against his shoulder and said, “No worries. We have plenty of time.”
CHAPTER 7
The first good-looking girl I see tonight is going to die.
—Edmund Kemper
Sacramento
Monday, May 7, 2012
Lizzy sat in her Ford Escape and watched the Simpson house from less than a block away. The street was quiet. No children playing outside. No dogs barking. Just Lizzy all alone with her thoughts. The funny thing about surveillance work, Lizzy thought, was that although she was the one doing the watching, she often felt as if
she
were the one being watched.
Her car doors were locked. There were no thick hedges or dark alleyways for someone to hide in. She had nothing to worry about, she told herself, but somebody needed to tell that to her rapidly beating heart. She drew in a deep breath and tried to collect herself.
Next, she counted to five.
Breathe. Think about the weather
. Despite the continuous rain of the past week, there was only a light sprinkle today. Spring was definitely in the air, she decided as she watched a wild rabbit scurry across the empty lot next to Simpson’s place.
She fiddled with the camera in her lap. Holding it at eye level, she looked through the lens and played with the shutter speed and the aperture until she could see every detail of the brass handle on Simpson’s door. As she made a few adjustments, she moved the lens across the front of the house. Through the front window, she saw movement and decided to keep her lens focused there, hoping Eli Simpson would make an appearance.
He was not married, but somebody was definitely moving around inside the house.
Come on, Simpson…move closer to the window
.
When her phone rang, she looked down and saw that it was a number she didn’t recognize. She held her camera with her right hand and her cell with her left and pushed the Talk button.
“Hello,” the caller said, “is this Lizzy Gardner?”
“Yes, it is.” She was about to put the camera down, when Simpson’s front door opened.
“Hayley Hanson is ready to be picked up,” the caller said. “She’s been cleared to leave. If you can get here before three o’clock and fill out all the necessary paperwork, she’ll be released to you today. If not, we’ll have to wait until Wednesday afternoon.”
Lizzy had been praying this day would come, but she’d begun to lose hope that they would be able to get Hayley out before her first year was served. “Hayley can come home?” she asked, trying to concentrate, unable to believe what
Learning to Kill: Stories