Chapter 13

The man looked into the bedroom. The girl was sound asleep, he could tell. He could actually hear her so very softly snoring over the baby monitor. He had let her come down from her strong orgasm and placed her back on the bed. He had reattached her wrists and ankles to the straps on the corners of the bed but had loosened the straps so they were now only ensuring she remained on the bed, but she could turn to one side or the other.

He had told her to remain on the bed and she sleepily agreed. If she really tried, she could probably unhook the ankle and wrist cuffs. This was a test. He didn’t really care if she did. He could easily see the whole room via the two cameras so she could not surprise him by hiding beside the door. He’d learned his lesson from an earlier guest.

Having been a very long day, he ensured the bar was on the bedroom door, then turned and started the washer to clean a small load of laundry. Climbing up to the main level of the house, he shut and locked the pantry door and fixed himself a small dinner. She’d be hungry in the morning, so he knew he’d be fixing a larger breakfast than normal, but that could wait. Taking his steak and eggs, he sat at the breakfast nook table and turned on the flatscreen monitor mounted to the wall.

While he ate, he surfed the web for a bit. On a whim, he selected the web site of one of the TV stations from Jupiter, the city he had grabbed the girl from. There was one of those breaking news flash bars scrolling, but it talked about a gangland slaying, and he wasn’t paying much attention. He chose the live broadcast link and listened to the pretty newscaster on site. It seemed to be just ending.

“ ... and I’m Tracy Verbinga, reporting at the site of a mass killing over on Oleander. Back to you, Bob!” she was saying, ending her report.

The view switched to a split-screen. On the left side it showed a shot up house and, on the right, the two anchors. The male anchor, Bob, said, “Tracy, we still don’t have any better understanding about why those girls were killed?”

The on-scene reporter again filled the right side of the screen. “No Bob. The briefing said that witnesses stated there were at least three gunmen, all being described loosely as ‘Hispanic gang bangers’ Reports are now saying that there was a woman killed inside, one Marlene Thomas, 39, and four teen girls. The police have reported that the bodies of the girls are nearly unidentifiable from the fires started by the gun fire. According to our sources, Ms. Thomas was a single mother of one. Her daughter, Nikki, 15, attended the local high school and was constantly seen with several other girls in the area and at the local beaches. It is thought that the daughter is one of the bodies, but further identification will have to wait.”

Bob, the anchor back at the station continued, “tragic, just tragic. Thank you, Tracy. Let us know if there are any further updates. Turning back to his co-anchor, they now filled the screen. Simply tragic, so much gang violence these days.”

The man turned off the feed, deep in thought. He’d have to check back in after sunup. They should have more information later. Thomas. Nikki Thomas, of Oleander Street. If they identified the girls and realized Nikki wasn’t there, that would start a longer investigation for the missing girl. He would probably have to dump her in the swamps. But, what if they didn’t, and simply assumed she was one of the dead?

This could be a longer-term investment in his time and pleasure. The girl didn’t seem to be broken up over being taken, not like some had been. She also didn’t seem overly worried about her mother. Time would tell. His choice of cargo this day might well end up very propitious. “Hmm,” he thought. “Propitious, I like that word.” Smiling at his list of the day, he turned the page, and the next word was ‘perspicacious.’

“Now what the hell does that mean?” He finished up his dinner and turned in. His dreams were pretty vivid that night, and in them, the girl seemed much older and was fully part of his efforts. Wishful dreaming indeed.