Page 8 of Beautiful Prey

“There’s my girl,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. His blond hair was styled back as usual, and he wore a crimson wool sweater that reminded me of the changing leaves. He hugged me tight, and I smiled as I always did at his greeting.

“How was Chicago?” I asked as I went to sit, noticing he had already ordered my favorite caramel-flavored coffee.

“Oh, I hated it!” he said enthusiastically, sitting back down in his seat with his espresso in front of him.

“Really?”

“Yes, absolutely. I almost sat in piss on the train, and a man wouldn’t stop yelling at everyone. The conference started late and was boring. You missed nothing,”

“Well, that’s a relief. I told you it would be awful going alone. You should have brought Ben.”

He waved my suggestion off. “He complains if he has to walk more than five minutes anywhere and would have missed the conference, getting distracted by the nearest art gallery with a bar. No, no he was better off here.”

“Well, I’m sorry it was lame.”

“Me too. But who cares. You and I both know what we're really here for.” He leaned in, staring me down through his glasses, cupping his espresso. “Well?”

I took a deep breath. “Well…it happened.”

“Yeah, and?”

I wasn’t really sure where to start. And Jamie must have seen me struggling. He took my hand. “Was it that bad?”

“No…I mean, it wasn’t easy, but…I didn’t fuck up and run away, so, you know, that’s something.”

“Yeah, but did you get him to talk?”

I nodded.

“What did he say? Did he tell you why he did what he did?”

“No.”

“Figures. But you did get him to talk.”

“Yeah.” I shifted in my seat. “He said…he told me they deserved it.”

“What?”

“He told me if he could do it again, he would.”

“What the actual fuck,” Jamie whispered. “Shit, Eve, I’m so sorry.”

I tried to act unaffected. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” I said. “It’s not like I thought he’d say he regretted it.”

“Yeah, but I thought he’d deny it. Many killers do. This is very weird.” His sharp blue eyes watched me curiously. “Was it a religious fixation? Did he believe they were going against god or something?”

“No, nothing like that.”

Jamie sighed. “Well, now you know that much at least. And how fucked he is. Plenty to talk about for your thesis, right?”

“I don’t think it’s enough.”

He blew out a breath, sweeping a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Listen, I get your obsession. When I got to interview the Smiley Killer, I nearly wet my pants. Seriously, I get the thrill—”

“It’s not like that.”

“—but this is too personal. What this guy did…Eve, you can’t keep your emotions at bay. Not with him. We’ve gone through undergrad together, seen and heard some awful shit and learned to see things as an observer. To understand. Do you think you could ever understand him? Forgive him?

---