Page 36 of The Hunted
He smirked, anticipation and excitement coursing through him at the prospect of how the Reaper would retaliate. He wasn’t worried about the Reaper outing him just yet. Those were part of the taunts of course, but he had a feeling that would be saved for a grand finale which meant he still had time to figure out who the Reaper was.
He waved toward the body and headed back toward his car. He didn’t walk the same path but still shifted his weight as he moved. When he reached his truck he noticed his phone had a notification, and he eagerly pulled it out expecting it to be Silva with more tidbits of her time with Amra.
It wasn’t. It was from Martin and he groaned inwardly until he remembered he could get information about Amra out of him. He swiped to see what the message read:
Martin: Beer at Luther’s?
Santino put his car in drive and responded with a smile on his face.
Santino: Meet you in thirty.
“Let’s hope you have more information than what her bra size is.”
The Reaper looked down at their phone notification. The GPS tracker they had on Santino’s truck was on the move, and when they pulled open the map they noticed he had driven passed Route 160.
What are you up to?
The Reaper waited, trying to pay attention to the world around them but also intensely focused on the little red dot moving along until it stopped.
Parkway Road.
The Reaper squinted at their phone, trying to remember what was there now and what had been there before.
The fair.
Did Santino finally remember, or was this all a coincidence?
The Reaper’s leg shook, impatience and curiosity making it impossible to sit still. They needed to get out of here, desperate to know what had driven Santino Alvarez back to the old fair.
I can’t leave now, but if I leave too late and there’s a body waiting for me, there will be too many local law enforcement agents circling around. Fuck.
The Reaper took a steadying breath. They had known this was a possibility. They all but dared him to react, but was he there trying to fill in the blanks of old memories, or had he finally decided to take someone? Who could the unlucky victim be?
What to do, what to do?
The Reaper pulled up their text messages and typed out a text.
Let’s see what breadcrumbs I can find before I can leave.
ChapterFifteen
Silva checked her watch. She’d been out well past her social battery’s capacity. Her feet ached and the way her clothes touched her skin started bothering her. By now she’d be in sweats or shorts, barefoot with an oversized hoodie or shirt on. She’d probably also be eating her weight in chocolate chip cookies. But she’d been too intrigued by Amra Benson and her relationship with Santino to go home. She wanted to know more about Santino, more about how other people viewed him, though given Amra’s slight obsession with him, maybe she wasn’t the greatest source to gleam that information from.
But Silva seemed starved for the little breadcrumbs that had been dropped in front of her and she was too consumed to pull away now.
Something to examine later.
“All I’m saying is, he’s weird. He keeps to himself and thinks he’s better than everyone else and he has no friends.” She took a sip of her beer. “That in itself is a red flag.”
“Is it actually a red flag?” Silva asked. Amra had been issuing out red flags like she was handing candy to trick or treaters, which wasprobably a red flag in itself.“Or does he not fit into a neat category you deem acceptable? And correct me if I’m wrong, but just because someone doesn’t talk about their social life, at work no less, doesn’t mean they don’t have one. He could have a bunch of friends and just doesn’t want to talk about it with you. Are you not there to work?” Silva smiled at Amra, picking at the label on her still-full beer bottle.
They had moved on from Desires because it was too noisy and got extra crowded fast. Neither Silva nor Amra had been able to fake having a good time, and Janelle moved them to a quieter location. They were sitting at some bar called Luther’s that Silva had never been too before but she was enjoying the quiet ambiance. She could see herself coming here during the daylight hours with her laptop to work. Though given this was Amra’s favorite spot, she wasn’t sure she’d want to be anywhere near a place the crabby woman enjoyed.
“It’s my job to pick up on these things.” Amra’s tone held a hint of venom that wasn’t as off-putting as she probably thought it was.
Janelle sat between them, a tense smile on her face with her gaze ping-ponging between them. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet, letting Amra bitch enough it made Silva wonder if this was their relationship dynamic. Not once had Amra asked Janelle anything about what was going on in her life. The instant the introductions were made, she went into a tirade about her job and coworkers and hadn’t come up for air once.
“I have to excel. People’s lives are at risk if I don’t.” She said it like the world hinged on her. “I have the degrees on my wall that say I’m the best.” She took another sip of her beer, eyeing Silva. “So I know what I’m talking about when I say red flags. I don’t mean it in the way that social media likes to throw it around because they’re all internet psychologists.”
