Retribution by Jilliane Hoffman Read Free Book Online

porcelain cup on the edge of the sink, and her freesia body lotion sat on the opposite edge. The water ran a red river off the blade down into the drain. The Clown watched it, mesmerized, as it twirled around and around in the basin, thinning to a light red and then pink and then finally disappearing.
    He felt strong. The night had gone quite well, and they both had had a really good time. Even she had admitted it. Oh, there was that time when he had removed her silk panties from her luscious red, round mouth and instead of thanking him, the bitch had moaned and cried for him to stop. That had irritated him. A lot. But then the knife came out to play again and there was no more of that. In fact, she had actually begged him for more. But after a bit she started to whimper again and he had gotten quite sick of hearing it, so he had put the panties back in.
    He dried off the knife blade on her pretty mint-green-and-lace guest towel and placed it carefully back in his nylon bag along with all the other cleaned toys. The mask was off now and he rinsed his gloved hands clean, splashed cold water on his face and neck, and dried himself on the towel. He admired himself in the mirror, his firm, hard body. He gave his teeth a quick brush with her toothbrush and checked to make sure they wereclean. Then he pulled the mask back down over his face and headed back into the quiet bedroom.
    She lay peaceful on blood-soaked sheets. Her eyes were closed, like an angel. He slipped on his jeans and T-shirt and hummed as he put on his work boots and tied them with a double knot. She still had the panties in her mouth, but she made no sound anymore, not even a whimper. He thought it strange that he actually missed that sound now.
    He blew out what remained of the candle stubs. Bending down over her face, he stuck out his lips and kissed her on her cheek through the tiny rubber slit, letting his tongue venture out to taste her soft, salty skin one last time.
    ‘Bye-bye, Beany, my love. My beautiful, beautiful Chloe. It was fun.’
    On the sheet next to her neck lay the broken heart pendant. He picked it up and put it in his jeans pocket.
    ‘Something to remember our time together by.’
    He blew a kiss in the air and quietly closed the bedroom door behind him. Then he grabbed the nylon bag from her bathroom and went down her tiny hall and past her kitchen one last time. At the Pier I end table, he spotted her small jade statue of the three wise monkeys, their hands covering their eyes, ears, and mouth: Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and See No Evil. A present, he knew, from her parents’ recent trip to the Orient. He had heard once that folklore said the monkeys were upposed to bring protection and good luck to any home they were welcomed into. Not tonight, the Clown thought to himself and smiled. Next to the statue sat a picture of a happy Chloe and her Preppie Prick boyfriend at the Empire State Building. He paused, allowing his fingers torun over the image, before taking his own mental snapshot of this special night.
    And then, just as quiet as a church mouse, he slid open the living room window and dropped beneath the dense cover of the evergreen, still wet from the torrential storm that had since passed over. Then the Clown quietly slipped unnoticed into the purple-blue night, just as slivers of orange light began to slice across the sky and day broke over the deserted streets of New York City.

10
    Marie Catherine Murphy stood outside Apartment 1B and simply knew that something was wrong. Especially since it was already ten to nine, Marie was running late, today was the practice multistate exam, and Chloe was not answering her door. And while it was not unusual for Chloe to be late, too, which was partly why they were such great friends, she always eventually answered. Albeit, usually in her pajamas, but always with a great excuse and two enormous mugs of freshly brewed coffee in hand, as well as a box of Stella D’oro Breakfast Treats. They