Page 40 of Psycho
“And this child? Your son, Hunter. Six years old. Did you love him, too?”
“Of course, I did.”
“Yet, you sat on his chest and held a pillow over his face.”
Her eyes grew wide, then narrowed as she sneered. “You can’t prove that.”
“Did you know there were fibers found in his throat? Something else the coroner just overlooked.”
“You’re insane.”
“Let’s say that I believed you. That you loved your two children and it was just bad luck and bad genes that took them out. Say I did believe you…”
He stood. Holding up another photo, another child. “Children have a bad habit of dying around you, Dorothy. Did they have bad genes, too? Benny Ortega, ten months old, Harry Beckett, age three, Ginger Dunnigan, age five, Flora Eckerd, age two.” As he listed each child, he tossed the picture on her lap. In all, there were ten children that they knew about, and probably several they didn’t.
She wasn’t talking any longer, just seething. She was clearly a psychopath like him. She had no guilt or remorse. She was a shark, cold and calculating. She was already trying to pivot, to plot her next move. Part of him wanted to keep playing with her. He’d thought to torture her slowly, wanting her to feel the fear and anxiety her children must have felt, betrayed by the one person they should have been able to trust above all.
But it would be unfulfilling. She was just an empty husk, barely a person. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He replaced the knife on the tray and reached into his pocket. Lucas.
“One moment,” August said to Dorothy. He swiped to answer, “What’s wrong?”
Before Lucas could say anything, Dorothy began to shout. “Help me! Help! Please, he’s a fucking murderer!”
August sighed, setting his phone down to slap the duct tape back over her mouth. She was back to violently cussing him out. She might be his first victim to chew her way past the gag.
He picked his phone up once more. “Is everything alright?”
“Why is there a woman screaming bloody murder in the background?” Lucas asked.
“Because she’s a drama queen,” August said, causing an increase in the muffled voice behind him.
“Are you…killing a woman?”
“I’m killing a child murderer who happens to be a woman. It’s the twenty-first century, darling. Equal rights and all that. Now, did you call me to yell at me for killing a woman?”
Lucas gave a huge sigh. “No. I called to yell at you for sending your brother and his boyfriend to babysit me.”
August frowned. “Why? What’s the problem? Is Adam being a dick? You get used to it, I promise.”
“It’s not that.” August noted that wasn’t a no. “I just think it’s unnecessary and more than a little embarrassing.”
“I told you this morning that I wasn’t going to leave you by yourself after what happened with that stupid Post-it note. Noah will keep my brother under control, and I’ll be there soon. She’s no fun anyway.”
A sound like a shriek tore August’s attention from Lucas, his head turning just in time to see Dorothy snag the scalpel and swing it wildly. August watched as the sleeve of his black shirt grew wet. August stepped out of her way. “Gotta go,” he said, slipping the phone back in his pocket just as Dorothy hit the ground hard.
Her ankles were still firmly tied to the folding chair’s legs. That didn’t stop her, though. She dragged the chair along as she Army crawled towards August. He cut a wide path around her, coming up behind her like he was approaching a rattlesnake. He placed one booted foot on the hand holding the scalpel, feeling a bit of excitement when she screamed. He’d probably broken her fingers.
“You know,” he started, leaning down to snatch the scalpel from her now useless fingers. “I’ve been really looking forward to our time together. I could be at home with my boyfriend right now, eating dinner and probably having sex. Instead, I came here to kill you, something I’ve fantasized about doing since I found out you even existed. But I have to be honest, you’ve really taken the fun out of this.” He put a knee into her back, yanking her head back by her ponytail. “See you in hell, Dorothy.”
“Oh, fuck y—” The scalpel cut through her skin like butter, severing her carotid artery and spraying August with warm blood. He sighed, pulling off a glove to reach into his pocket and grab his phone once more, this time dialing Adam.
“Are you almost here? I think your boyfriend hates me.”
“You are rather unlikeable. I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“Can you leave Noah with Lucas for an hour and come help me clean up a crime scene?”
