Kendra evidently didn’t see Genie; she turned to look around, to find out where Meg was.
And then everything about her changed. The mask of tears was gone. She had a hard, vicious expression on her face and she seemed furious—not hurt at all.
“Damn you, Joe, get the little bitch!”
Meg whipped around to see Joe Brighton behind her, wielding a long sharp knife. He smiled at her.
“Joe Brighton,” Meg said. “Not a surprise.”
The man acted confused. “Not Joe, it’s Slash. Slash McNeil, at your service.”
“Joe, quit acting like an ass. This isn’t the time to fool around. Kill her! Kill the bitch and let’s be done with this!”
“Slash,” the man said, still smiling at Meg. It was a bizarre smile, cheerful and self-satisfied. “Slash—and I’ve been waiting.”
He had a Bowie knife; she had a scalpel. He was a fit, strong man. But he couldn’t get behind her to drug her again and carry her out a window and eventually down into a deep dark hole. They were face-to-face.
“I’ve watched. I’ve waited,” he said. “Slash... Slash doesn’t like playing with pills and leaving women alive in the dirt. Slash likes to feel the knife on flesh. Now... I have my chance.”
“Damn you, Joe!” Kendra shouted.
“Shut up, woman!” Brighton growled, never taking his eyes off Meg.
“That’s what happens when you deal with men who are sociopaths or psychotics,” Kendra said. She shrugged, glancing at Meg. “Oh, well. I don’t care if Joe has fun thinking he’s the world’s most famous—uncaught!—serial killer. Slash. I got wind of his little idiosyncrasies, including murder, when I caught him one night about to attack a coed. I might have died myself if I hadn’t convinced him I needed someone like him. My husband is a good man, you see, and a total fool—like most good men. He didn’t see that he’d never get anywhere while Hubbard was alive. Now, Hubbard, that was tricky. But we pulled it off, didn’t we...Slash?”
“We pulled it off,” Slash agreed. “And the tongues were a smart idea, right? People can’t talk without tongues, so that was my signature.” He grinned. “I’ve read every serial killer study out there, so I know about signatures. Putting them at Manheim’s place and yours—that was clever of you. It confused everyone.” He sighed. “You should’ve at least let me take Lara’s tongue,” he told Kendra.
That chilled Meg deeply.
I’m probably about to die myself. I should be scared.
But without intending to, Kendra was giving her time—time to come up with a plan, a way to escape. It was a good thing that Kendra seemed to think Meg needed to know just how clever she’d been.
And that she, not her husband, was the real power! “Yes, Slash, the tongues were a great plan of yours,” Kendra said. “I always told Slash—even before I knew he was Slash!—that people, certain people, couldn’t be allowed to talk. I guess that gave him the idea of taking their tongues when he started.”
And Meg realized that Kendra Walker was as much of a sociopath as Brighton, and beyond any doubt, a monster.
She didn’t want to be the vice president’s wife; she wanted to be the first lady.
She’d gotten this man to do the work for her. Knowing he, too, was a monster, she’d exploited his sickness for her own gain. The man before her had now dropped his mask, just as Kendra had dropped hers—but what lay behind his eyes was true insanity. Behind Kendra’s...lay a cold and psychopathic degree of control.
Which of them was the more dangerous? Meg wondered.
She had to move. She propelled herself into the clearing, toward him, scalpel raised and ready, and she caught him hard, right in the belly. It didn’t kill him, but he was wounded and he was down. She could run again, scream for her life...and look for help while he gathered himself. She could try jumping on him, slashing him with the scalpel, but she’d learned in the academy to judge the strength of an opponent and take evasive measures when necessary.
In this case, it was necessary. She turned to make a calculated retreat.
She was stunned when she suddenly went flying herself.
Kendra Walker was standing over her, having tripped her, pure and simple.
“I would’ve told you more,” Kendra said, scowling down at Meg. “What do I care now? Okay, so I like an audience. But you have become a major pain in the ass.” She turned to the killer she commanded and said, “Joe, Slash, whatever the fuck, get over here now and finish this!”
Meg heard Brighton lumbering to his feet, groaning and cursing and coming for her.