Page 150 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

And, by God, she was going to take it.

The pounding started again. “Wake up, bitch!” His voice was raw. Anxious. Good.

He could damn well rot in hell before she uttered a word. Her lungs could turn to dust before she gave him the satisfaction.

It was so hard to breathe, nearly impossible to move and panic had her in a stranglehold, but the only chance out of this trap was to reach her father’s weapon. Please let it be there, she thought, but knew the chances were slim. Surely the Grave Robber had found the small gun.

But there was a sliver of a chance that he’d overlooked it in his haste. She had to find out.

Using all her strength, she pressed down against her father’s body, compressing his flesh, making herself smaller so that she had room to scoot down and bend her knees. The soft flab of her father’s stomach gave way and she shuddered, her heart hammering, a horrid taste crawling up her throat. She slid. Possibly an inch. Maybe less. But she could barely move and as she stretched her hand along his pant leg, gathering the fabric, she knew her chance of survival was small.

Infinitesimal.

You bastard, she thought. You goddamned animal.

She felt the top of her father’s boot. That was a good sign, right? Maybe the killer thought the ankle strap was part of her father’s shoes.

She strained. Hard. Every muscle aching, her fingertips brushing the top of the holster.

She heard a chain rattling, a lock clicking, then the sound of a small motor. She had the sensation of the coffin being lifted off the cart or gurney that had brought her here.

Bang!

“Hey, Nikki. Can you hear me?” The killer’s voice was muted, but the words clear and her skin crawled. “How do you like sleeping with your father? It bites, doesn’t it. Kinda like it bites when you have to kill your own family because they sold you out!”

She didn’t answer. Felt ill. She pictured the Grave Robber not as the grisly, obsessed ogre he’d become but as he was twelve years ago. Then, seated in the courtroom at that gawky awkward age, Joey Legittel was ashen-faced, obviously scared to death, abused, forced to do terrible acts at the whim of LeRoy Chevalier. And then the court had made him tell about it.

Now, belatedly, she realized that he’d become a killer. He’d murdered his mother, sister and brother. He’d wounded himself, self-inflicted the wounds so cleverly that no one had guessed, then managed to hide the murder weapon and frame Chevalier with his own work boots. Now, he was crazed. Obsessed. No doubt because his tormentor had found freedom.

“Hey! You awake? Damn it. You nearly blew it, you know, you stupid bitch. And your old man, why the fuck didn’t he sentence the bastard to die? Why?”

Her lungs burning, she considered talking to him, trying to reason with him, but then remembered again all too vividly the tape with Simone’s hoarse, desperate voice as she pled, begged and bargained for her life. No matter what, Nikki wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Her shoulders straining, every muscle in her body cramped, she concentrated on easing the gun from its holster.

“Hey! Hey!”

More thudding. Wild. Crazy. As if he were losing it. The coffin jerked and spun.

Nikki concentrated on the weapon.

“Guess what I’ve got out here with me, Nikki,” he taunted, and Nikki froze. She couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to. “Something of yours. And Simone’s.”

Not Mikado. Not Jennings!

She nearly screamed, wanted to scratch his eyes out.

“Right here in my pocket. Your panties, Nikki. I took ’em out of your drawer. My, aren’t they naughty? And Simone’s…”

Nikki thought she might be sick.

“You hear me? I’ve got them all. Little treasures from all my victims. You know who’s in there with you, right? Daddy dearest? Know what I got of his?”

She didn’t want to know.

“And old jockstrap. Looks like it was made a billion years ago. What do you think of that?”

Go blow, you stinkin’ pervert, she thought, anger surfacing beneath her terror.

“I’ve been planning this for years…but I wasn’t gonna do it, not as long as LeRoy was behind bars. But he got out and so…too bad for all of you who failed me.”

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