Top Ten by Ryne Douglas Pearson Read Free Book Online

the end of the spike.”
    There it was, the object of number ten’s interest, hovering a foot above the victim’s mouth.
    “He called this one ‘Snacktime’.”
    Ariel looked away, and her eyes fell upon the dismembered pieces of a woman suspended from a ceiling.
    “Doris May,” Jaworski began. “Victim number six. Thirty eight. A postal worker. She was found cut up, photocopied, and hung like a mobile in a post office in Pembry late Friday night. Pembry’s just up the road from Oneida. An hour before you got here this morning the letter concerning Mr. Bradford was flagged at the Metropolitan Museum. It came from this post office.”
    “He mailed it there, then killed her?” What sense did that make? Ariel wondered. Then again, what sense was there in any of the things she was seeing.
    His sense , the answer came to her.
    “No drugs, just like the other female victim. But unlike her, he didn’t use duct tape.”
    Ariel was making mental notes as best she could. Later she’d put them on paper. Reduce what she was being shown, being told, to cold words. When this was all done, the next day, the next week, the next year, she could file them away. Or toss them. Make them gone.
    If only the memories could be so easily dealt with.
    “On the wall he wrote in her own blood ‘She Went To Pieces’.” Jaworski showed her the photo. Ariel looked. Made it a memory.
    The light above dimmed briefly, then went back to bright. Ariel would have preferred it go black. She had seen enough.
    “Someone’s on the elevator,” Jaworski said. “I have an appointment. Doctor here to give me a shot of insta-sick. Oh joy.” He turned and opened the door. “Shall we?”
    She was ready to leave. She wanted to leave. But when given the chance right then by the man who was now her boss, she did not. She could not.
    “Agent Grace?”
    The walls were still screaming at her.
    “Agent Grace?”
    Making memories.
    “Agent Grace ?”
    She turned finally away from the walls.
    “I have work for you,” he said.
    “Right, sir.”
    The light clicked off. Darkness killed the screams.

Two
    Image Maker
    “We called her DoDo,” Judy Bryce said between puffs on her smoke out behind the Pembry post office. Her eyes were teary. The sleeve of her postal uniform was damp. She’d been crying a lot.
    Ariel Grace stood close to her on the gravelly ground with a small notebook in hand. The rain had stopped, but a chilly wind blew.
    “It was a joke kind of thing,” Judy said, glancing upward and sniffling. She took a hard drag and spit the smoke toward the woods. “‘Cause she was blonde, you know? But she wasn’t dumb.” She put the back of her hand to her mouth and stared at the ground. “She wasn’t.”
    “I’m sorry,” Ariel told the woman whose friend had been butchered. The page in her notebook had Judy Bryce’s name at the top. She’d written nothing else yet. Her pain was not notable.
    “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Judy said, puffing again. “I can’t.”
    “It’s difficult, Mrs. Bryce. I can imagine.” It was time to move past sympathy. “I understand you were on vacation all last week.”
    Judy Bryce nodded. “My husband and I took the kids to Disneyworld.” She sniffled. “DoDo always wanted to take Lucas there, but she never had the money. It’s hard without a husband, you know.”
    Ariel nodded. She’d jotted Disneyworld without looking. “You returned, when, Mrs. Bryce?”
    “Last night. There was a message on my machine from Mr. Hayes...”
    “Hayes?”
    “He’s the postmaster. He said that Doris had been killed and he needed me in this week.”
    “You were supposed to be off, then.”
    Judy Bryce nodded. “So here I am.” Dry sobs shook her. “DoDo was working for me last week.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She put her cigarette shakily to her lips and drew on it. After a moment the spasm eased. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s all right,” Ariel said. This was going fast to nowhere.