Stay of Execution by K. L. Murphy Read Free Book Online

After a while, those who gravitated toward him fell away.
    Cancini took the ice packs from behind his neck and off his forehead. All of that had been a long time ago. It was true he hadn’t liked Spradlin, but that wasn’t what made him a suspect. The evidence had pointed toward the man. He knew all the girls. But most importantly, physical evidence linked him to the first crime scene, and Spradlin couldn’t produce a solid alibi. Cancini sat up and swung his legs around to ease the stiffness in his limbs. What was happening in Little Springs now had nothing to do with him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to stay. Walking to the window, he pushed aside the worn curtains. The crowds had thinned, but a few folks still lingered on the street. The podium had been taken down, and the press area was now empty. It almost looked peaceful.
    Spradlin’s words replayed in Cancini’s mind, the throbbing in his head intensifying in spite of the ice. Maybe Teddy was right. Maybe Spradlin was up to something after all. That whole bit about forgiveness? The press would eat that up. None of the reporters there today could possibly understand the hysteria that had gripped the town during the weeks and months of rapes and murders. By the time the police had gathered enough evidence to charge Spradlin, the townsfolk would have strung up the college president if it meant an end to the terror. The press from Washington, New York, and the AP wouldn’t know any of that. In fact, most of the reporters were only children at the time or weren’t from around here.
    One thing was for sure. Spradlin was no fool, adept at deception and operating under a smooth façade. Today, he’d played the part well—­the victim, the devoted son. Cancini had to hand it to him. But Cancini knew the truth. The late Mrs. Spradlin, the mother Leo claimed believed in his innocence, begging him to return to his hometown, did not visit him before her death. In fact, she had never visited him once in all those years.

 
    Chapter Ten
    S QUINTING, HE STARED out the window at the setting sun. His body was tired, fatigued after the day’s events, but his mind was wide-­awake. The day had been a great success, but a sudden pang of loneliness tainted his heady reliving of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cared about being alone. Why should this night be any different? Then he remembered the girl and all that she promised.
    He’d spotted her in the crowd wearing one of those tight sorority T-­shirts, her breasts high and mighty under the thin cotton fabric. Standing on the sidewalk with her back pressed against a storefront, she’d whispered in the ear of a girlfriend. Beads of sweat had glistened on her forehead, and damp blond tendrils had framed her face. He’d known immediately she was more of a curious onlooker than part of the hostile mob. Besides, the sorority girl was too young to remember the old crimes. She’d been there for the show. It was exactly as he’d expected; the news of the release was everywhere.
    From under his lashes, he’d watched her wipe her brow and fan her face. The crowd had pressed in, and she’d been momentarily swallowed up. A vein in the man’s temple had pulsed, and he’d shaded his eyes from the sun, careful to keep his head steady. He’d been keenly aware of the unfriendly crowd, watching and waiting.
    She’d appeared again, a little ways down the wall, farther from the podium. His heartbeat had quickened, and his mouth had gone dry. Without warning, the sight of the pretty coed had brought back all the old feelings, the urges he’d worked so hard to repress. It had been so goddamn long since he’d acted on them, given in to them. Of course, it wasn’t as though he’d had much of a choice. His circumstances had made that difficult. His eyes had followed her as she’d pushed off the brick,