Page 23 of My Girl

“You know they weren’t the first people to die in that house,” she adds.

Nor the last,I think. “What do you know about the other murders?”

“Everything.”

“And do you think those murders are another fake murder-suicide?”

She shrugs. “I’m not so sure about that. The decapitation. The burned bodies. It seems too personal, you know? The father probably saved the easiest death for himself because his life’s purpose was over by then.”

“Didn’t the father shoot himself too?”

She squints her eyes as she studies me. “Why are you so curious about them? Come to think of it, why are you so interested in any of the murders?”

I think about telling her the truth, that my mother knew Michael Hall, and that he’s my father. She seems too smart though, like she’ll latch onto me as another piece of evidence.

Right now, I want her to be on my side. I have to come up with a reason she’ll accept without any doubts.

I lift my shoulders. “I have a friend who knew the Halls. I guess I wanted to investigate the Galloway House crimes because it’s so local, you know? Everyone focuses on the Vegas mobster crimes. I want to work on something outside of the Strip.”

“I completely understand that.”

I smile automatically. She thinks she understands me; she doesn’t know it’s a lie. I’m not interested in local crime or history like her, but if she’s the local crime expert, then I need her help to figure out how my father died.

“We should meet up sometime,” I say. “Talk about this stuff. I could interview you for the podcast, or maybe you could co-host with me.”

She smiles. “I’d like that.”

Chapter8

Crave

More “investigating”for a fake podcast. More bullshit. More nights. More days. More time spent waiting for the perfect moment to fuck with her.

Rae’s red hair flashes between the white slats in her window. My mind ticks, itching to see more. I keep settled in my truck, stationed in the far corner of her apartment parking lot. She never goes over here. Her car is near the building.

You’re obsessed,my mother’s voice hisses.You’re letting her control you.

My facial muscles twitch. I force myself to relax, to not let that fake maternal voice get to me.

Rae exits her apartment, then patters down the stairs. Her sedan zooms off, and once her tires hit the main road, I head to the dumpster. I pop over, then grab a grease-stained pizza box. It’s too early for pizza, but if someone sees me, they won’t think twice about it. And once I get a key to her place, I won’t need the cover.

A black rubber doormat, marked with dirt, sits in front of Rae’s front door, the same one they give to all of the new residents. Rae hasn’t put her own flair on the place; she blends in with the rest. It’s not a bad thing in this situation.

I lift the rubber mat and grab the extra key. I put it in my pocket, then head back down the stairs and drop the empty pizza box in front of a random apartment.

Stupid little boy,that matronly voice screams inside of me.Thinking you can do anything to her when you’ve been putting off killing her for years. She’s smarter than you think.

“Just like you thought you were smarter than me,” I mutter.

That inner voice gets loud again, so I whistle, drowning out those thoughts. If it were just about killing Rae, we’d be done by now.

I’m not simply interested in Rae’s blood; I’m interested in fucking with her mind.

At a chain one-stop shop, I use the automated key copy machine in the front entryway. Once that’s done, I head to the electronics section and grab every home surveillance system they have. Because now that my mission is to properly get inside of her head, I need to have the ability to see her at all times.

Is that what you’re telling yourself now?my mother’s voice says.You’re pathetic.

An edgy, restless sensation cycles through me. Years of rage coming to the surface of my skin.