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Chapter Eighteen

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SO THEY THOUGHTthey could keep him at bay? They were all so self-righteous, so sure of themselves. He was going to teach them.

The man shook with indignation, his hands tight on the steering wheel of his car. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

Classic serial killer psychosis. He laughed at the irony.

Him, a serial killer. Who would believe it?

But he didn’t get off on the killings. Not in the way most serial killers did. They were only part of seeing justice carried out.

He’d set that bomb, tried to kill them all. It had been the safest way, regardless of his desire to make Colton Bells suffer slowly. When he’d walked in to Shelby’s house to plant the cell phone, they all should have been dead or close enough.

Yet, they’d been alive.

Every one of them.

He’d failed.

But not for long.

They still had no idea who he was or what he was capable of. He needed a new plan. Luckily for him, having grown up in a military family, he was no stranger to changing plans on a dime.

Refine, reorder, rework.He’d gotten where he was by knowing how to play the game. To make people believe he was a good guy.

Instead of taking them out all at once, he’d have to do things in a more controlled way. More detailed.

He was good at details.

Like sniping three men and getting away with it.

Right now, Shelby had too many people around her. Bells was in surgery. How could he get to them without getting caught?

Patience. He couldn’t blow this when he was so close to finally getting revenge for Peter.

If Shelby had only realized what a loser Bells was. If she had accepted that her ex-husband was guilty of murder—regardless of whose—and had let the cops arrest Bells, he could have let her live.

But she was as stubborn now as ever. Probably felt like she owed Bells after what he’d done for her, covering for her, taking the blame for that night.

Bells had played the hero, hiding her little secret, but he was still a murderer. How could she defend him?

The idea of letting her report resurface to the powers that be tickled the back of his mind. It would show everyone that she and Bells had covered up what happened.

It would also make Bells that much more of a hero in some people’s eyes.

The man couldn’t let that happen.

Bells should have died in Baghdad. Should have died in this latest bomb explosion at Shelby’s house.

Instead, the bastard still walked the earth while dozens of men who deserved to live were buried six feet under.

No more. If Bells survived the surgery, he still wasn’t long for this earth.

The man pulled a .300 Winchester Magnum from his pocket, turning the cool metal bullet over and over in his fingers.