It’s like lipstick now.
He touches the dehydrated skin with his fingers and relishes in the feeling. The bright blood had glistened on her lips and teeth at the time, shiny and inviting. Now it looked like the cracked surface of the driest desert. The ball is still there between her teeth, hardened from the cold. At the time, he thought it was just a bit of practice, but now her suffering will have a greater purpose.
He unplugs the freezer, propping the lid open. When they come, they will smell her first. He unlocks a closet to reveal his most heavy-duty tools and weapons. His preference has always been to hunt up close. Even when he was younger, he enjoyed sticking a pig with a sharp knife more than shooting it from afar. Sometimes a situation requires distance though. If he is going to hunt big game, it’s time to bring out the big guns.
He grabs his TenPoint crossbow and a quiver full of titanium mechanical broadhead arrows. When deployed, two blades shoot out from the sides of each arrow, resulting in a two-inch wound on the target. Maximum damage without added bulk. He’ll be able to move easily and quickly, vital to his plans. After all, this is the first time his prey will be able to shoot back.
CHAPTER 30
PULLING UP TO RAY SINGER’S address, Leroux sees Will leaning against his parked car. He parks behind him in front of the home and gets out.
“I’ll stick behind here for a little,” Wren says from the open window. “I just need a minute to process alone.”
Leroux nods. “Okay, we won’t be long. Don’t touch my radio.”
He throws her the keys, and she gives him a small smile as she starts up the engine.
“John, why must you always make me wait for you?” Will waves his arm dramatically, and Leroux rolls his eyes.
“Get it together, Broussard.”
He tucks in his shirt and starts toward the front door. They walk up the steps and ring the doorbell. A disheveled-looking middle-aged man answers the door. Even from the safe distance of her place in the car, Wren can hear everything with total clarity.
“Can I help you?” he asks, opening the door and leaning out.
Will speaks first, showing an ID as he does. “New Orleans Police Department. I’m Detective Broussard, and this is Detective Leroux. Are you Ray Singer?”
Ray looks stressed.
“Yes. What is this about?”
Will continues, “We are investigating a near-fatal attack that occurred in the area last night. The victim was last seen at your bar.”
“Jesus. Is it that woman from the news?” he asks, his eyes widening.
Leroux nods. “We need to speak with the bartenders and any waitstaff that were working last night. Can you provide us with those names and their contact information?”
Ray leans against the doorframe, running a hand through his messy brown hair.
“Wait, the Butcher was in my bar? Is that what you are telling me? Holy shit.”
Leroux holds up a hand and interrupts, “We just need the waitstaff and bartenders to tell us if they saw anything out of the ordinary last night.”
“Of course, right. I’m heading in now to open up, and some of the staff from last night will be there too. You’re welcome to follow me there.”
“Great, we’ll do that.”
Will gives Ray a curt nod, and the three men head back to their vehicles.
Leroux’s phone rings.
“Leroux,” he answers, pausing at the car door before ducking back into the driver’s seat.
“Hey. We have someone here who thinks he may have some information about the Elmwood Park victim. He was at the bar last night.”