Page 8 of Be Very Quiet

He glared at her for a few seconds and then hitched a shoulder. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Douglas’s attitude annoyed her. Liliana would have to talk with Rutger, who had been responsible for hiring him. She didn’t want Douglas trying to catch other women off guard as he had with her. She would not stand for anyone, man or woman, to be harassed in her studio. Not for their looks, race, religion, sexual orientation, nothing.

Douglas loped away with a cocky strut she found annoying. She’d not noticed it before, but his swagger struck her as obnoxious. How had she not realized how irritating he was?

Liliana retreated to her office to shower. Douglas’s attack had her off-kilter. Hopefully, the hot spray of water would ease the tension in her muscles. Still unsettled, she decided to leave early and go for a run along the beach. Maybe that would calm the turmoil rolling around inside her head.

#

The run along the beach had helped soothe Liliana’s restlessness. The calming crash and retreat sound from the waves always relaxed her. She had spent the evening reading a good book and drinking a glass of wine, and when she woke, she felt refreshed and ready to tackle the day.

Tonight was her dance class, so she’d be working late. She and Shonda were planning a recital in a few weeks, and she’d already ordered outfits and worked with another studio—not Jazmine’s—to conduct a joint exhibition. Maria Gomez, the owner of the other business, had several troops who would perform routines. Maria didn’t have to collaborate with Liliana’s students, but she had graciously accepted when Liliana approached her with the offer. Liliana and Shonda’s pupils would dance in front of an audience much larger than if they had held one of their own. Maria even included them in a group number.

Liliana was about to call Maria to finalize plans when a knock sounded on her door.

“Come in.”

“Good morning.” Shonda breezed inside, looking like a million bucks as always. Shonda was the most effortlessly beautiful woman Liliana had ever met, both inside and out.

“Good morning. Is that a new outfit?”

Shonda spun around with a flourish. “It is. Do you like it?”

The blue romper with red and white flowers showcased Shonda’s stunning figure and mile-long legs. “Love it.”

“Hey, did you hear about the grisly murder over on Lenox Avenue?” Shonda didn’t wait for a response. “A friend knows someone who lived close to the crime scene, and she said a woman was killed. The police haven’t released the details, but I heard all the blood was drained from her body. Isn’t that like totally grotesque? Dracula-esque. Is that even a word?”

Horror washed over Liliana in tsunami-sized waves. It meant nothing, she told herself. Ted Rader didn’t invent exsanguination. That method was probably used all the time. He was dead. It’d been ten years. If he were alive, he would’ve been killing all along. Right?

It had taken months for Liliana to recover from his attack. Not from the bullet graze and black eye, but mentally. She had been skittish and so easily frightened. It wasn’t until she became proficient in self-defense that she had started to feel safe again.

When she’d decided to learn to defend herself, she had chosen Krav Maga and was now a black belt. Krav Maga compiled several self-defense practices and offered a consistent, repetitive approach. Training emphasized tactical thinking and the most efficient ways to subdue an attacker, focusing on striking the body’s vulnerable areas. It was practical for people of any age, size, or shape.

Once she’d become mentally stronger and the name Ted Rader didn’t send her into a full-blown panic attack, she’d pored over the details of his crimes. She needed to know her enemy.

Rader had killed eightwomen over the span of a year. When news of his almost capture came out, details of his past were revealed.

Ted Rader was the only child of Ted Senior, a mortician and elder at his evangelical church, and Margorie, the heir to the Deakin Funeral Home and Crematorium. It had been in Margorie’s family for decades, and she’d grown up assisting with all facets of the business. Teddy, as he was called, had been responsible for embalming or cremating the bodies from a young age. Margorie ruled with an iron fist, not allowing her only child to play with other kids or participate in extracurricular activities. His life consisted of church and the funeral home.

It almost made you feel sorry for Ted . . . almost. Many people had grown up with strict, overbearing parents or faced unimaginable odds, yet they hadn’t become deranged serial killers.

She still remembered the quote he’d whispered in her ear. She had researched it online and discovered it was from1 Corinthians 15:40-43. A man who quoted the Bible while doing the devil’s work was one sick bastard. A cold-blooded killer.

“Liliana?”

“Huh?” She shook her head and blinked at Shonda, who was waving a hand in front of her face.

“I’ve been talking to you for like ten minutes. Where did you go? Did you hear anything I said?”

“Sorry. I was distracted. What did you say?”

“That the order for new T-shirts will be delivered this afternoon.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Shonda was studying her closely. It was all she could do to school her features. “I should have the schedule for the recital later today.”

Shonda nodded slowly. “Great. Sure you’re okay? You know you can tell me anything.”

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