An Evil Mind--A Suspense Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

pairs of latex gloves, one of which he gave to Sam.
    “You want to get a drink after this?” Jeff asked as they put on the gloves.
    “Sure.”
    Sam grabbed a flashlight from the glove box, switched it on, and fished his keys out of his jeans pocket. Shining the flashlight at the small compass attached to the keychain, he took his bearings.
    The road ran from east to west. This information would help them find their way back to the car after they buried Edgar.
    “Which way are we going?” Jeff slung the duffel bag over his shoulder.
    “This way.” Sam pointed south. “I’ll carry him, and you’ll carry the shovels.”
    He pocketed the keys and the flashlight.
    “Let’s go, buddy.” Sam unfastened Edgar’s seatbelt, grasped him under the arms, and pulled him out of the car. The hitchhiker wasn’t fat; Sam estimated he weighed about one hundred and sixty pounds. The smell of sweat emanating from Edgar’s body made him think of his high school locker room. He remembered stealing glances at other guys’ penises to see how big they were.
    “Is he heavy?” Jeff asked.
    “No.” With Jeff’s help, Sam hoisted Edgar onto his back.
    Twigs crackling underfoot, the toes of Edgar’s sneakers scraping the ground, he entered the woods. The hitchhiker’s body was limp; he made no effort to hold onto Sam.
    For a moment Sam wondered if Edgar was just pretending to be out of it.
    If he tries to strangle me, Jeff will whack him with a shovel.
    If Edgar scratched him, he would have to cut off his fingers so the police wouldn’t get his DNA from his skin under Edgar’s fingernails.
    Carrying the shovels on his shoulders, Jeff ambled beside Sam.
    “Do you want to do it, or should I?” Sam said.
    Sam believed Jeff would understand that by “do it” he meant “kill Edgar”—and he was right.
    “You do it,” Jeff replied.
    It was easy to walk as the terrain was level and there were no mounds or hollows. After about fifty yards, Sam’s back began to complain.
    I should go to the gym more often, Sam thought.
    He had read that gorillas could lift ten times their own weight. It would be nice if humans were that strong, wouldn’t it?
    When they were a hundred yards from the road, Sam stopped and said, “This is far enough.” He laid Edgar on his back on the ground and wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.
    “Should we dig the grave before or after?” Jeff asked as he tied Edgar’s legs.
    “Before,” Sam said, flexing his fingers, which had become numb from holding Edgar’s arms.
    He picked up a shovel and then turned toward the road, thinking he had heard a car. He saw no headlights.
    “What is it?” Jeff asked.
    “Nothing.”
    It took them forty five minutes to dig the grave, which was about two feet deep. No cars passed by during that time. Edgar lay quietly on the ground and did not attempt to get up or crawl away.
    Sam knelt down, unbuttoned Edgar’s shirt, and bared his chest and stomach. Edgar raised his head slightly and mumbled something unintelligible.
    “Relax, man.” Sam patted him on the cheek. “Everything’s fine.”
    He emptied Edgar’s pockets and handed the contents to Jeff: he wanted to make it harder for the police to identify the body.
    “Knife,” he said.
    Jeff took a knife out of the bag and gave it to Sam.
    Sam ran a hand over Edgar’s hairy chest, mentally marking where he was going to stab him, raised the knife, and gripped it tightly. A guttural sound escaped Edgar; his right hand rose, and a moment later fell down. His heart pounding with excitement, Sam drove the knife into Edgar’s left breast, pulled it out, and plunged it into his right breast. Edgar slapped his hands to his chest and let out a throaty groan; a shudder shook his body.
    Sam drew a deep breath and began to cut Edgar’s abdomen open.
    As soon as he got back to Arlington, he would throw the clothes he was wearing now in a Dumpster.
    When Sam withdrew the blade from Edgar’s stomach, Jeff took out