The Mad and the MacAbre by Jeff Strand Read Free Book Online Page A

from somebody who didn't
realize that he wasn't participating--and unscrewed the cap. He
sniffed it. Awful. However, women liked this sort of thing, so he
splashed some on his neck.
    Charlie took a piece of folded paper out of
his pocket. Couldn't hurt to practice a few more times. He unfolded
the paper and tried to sound natural as he read the handwritten
words aloud.
    "Hey, I know a great little coffee place,
maybe a two-minute drive from here. I can't promise you won't get
dog hair on you, but I'd be more than happy to drive us there and
treat you to a cup."
    Maybe he should cut the part about the dog
hair. If somebody was genuinely fussy about getting dog hair on
their clothes, they might decline his offer based just on that. But
he liked the way it sounded--it acknowledged concern that Kutter
might have gotten dog hair on the front seat. Maybe he'd use it the
first time, and drop it if the comment seemed to be the deciding
element in somebody refusing to come with him.
    He read it out loud a few more times, making
his voice as friendly as possible, then moved on to another
prepared line: "He's a handful, but I love him." This was to be
used when somebody was cooing over Kutter, and he'd already tested
it out a few times. Responses were evenly divided between an amused
"I can imagine!" and the mock disbelief of "Nooooo, not this
sweetie!" Either way, the line worked.
    The story of how he'd found Kutter worked
perfectly fine when he told the truth, and he was surprisingly
comfortable sharing it, so he didn't write it down. He practiced
the "handful" line a few more times, then refolded the paper and
put it back in his pocket.
    "Okay, time to earn your keep," he told
Kutter, fastening the leash to his collar. "If you help me out
tonight, I'll give you as many bacon treats as you want." That
wasn't entirely true--he wasn't going to rush out to the pet store
to buy another bag if the first one ran out, but still, Kutter
would be entitled to a hell of a lot of bacon treats.
    He'd considered putting Kutter in a doggie
sweater, but that seemed too far over the top. He wasn't looking
for bimbos, just women more attractive than his usual prey.
    He put on his jacket, checked his appearance
in the mirror one more time, and then he began his first-ever hunt
with a partner.
    Normally Charlie was content to hunt within
half an hour or so of his home. But since he had a Boston terrier
along for the ride, which might make him more memorable to possible
witnesses, and was planning to take home a victim more likely to be
missed, he decided to play it safe and drove for nearly two hours
before pulling into a movie theatre parking lot just after dark. It
was one of those enormous multiplex theatres, twenty-four screens,
and he figured that a place like this would be busy enough that he
could wander around and be relatively anonymous.
    "Don't let me down, buddy," he said,
scratching the top of Kutter's head. They got out of the car and he
walked Kutter toward the theatre.
    Kutter was an instant hit. Unfortunately, it
wasn't in a way that did Charlie any good.
    People made a fuss over the dog, but it was
children with their parents, girls with their boyfriends or
husbands, and women in small groups. And some guys, too, which did
Charlie even less good. Nobody seemed to go to the movies by
themselves.
    Of course they didn't. Everybody knew
that.
    Charlie dragged Kutter--who
was loving the attention--back to the car after about fifteen
minutes. Stupid. How could he pick a movie theatre, of all places?
This was why he didn't get to kill beautiful women. This was why he
didn't deserve to
kill beautiful women. All of this planning, and he still screwed it
up. Pathetic.
    He felt like hitting something, but it
couldn't be Kutter. The dog had done his part. Perfectly. The fault
was all Charlie's.
    "Stupid," he said out loud. "Pathetic."
    Kutter panted happily. He didn't seem to
think that Charlie was stupid or pathetic. Charlie put his index
finger out