I Can See You Read Online Free PDF

to a science. Instead he’d posed them in
their homes, leaving clues of his choosing. He didn’t touch them, couldn’t risk
putting his hands around their necks. He’d correctly anticipated the loss of
the tactile would detract from the experience.
    And he’d had to hold back. He couldn’t release himself
on them. Any killer that left DNA behind was a fool. The strain of killing
without the physical release had been a bit more difficult than he’d expected,
but this hooker had taken off the edge.
    It would be worth it. Headlines would scream SERIAL
KILLER UNCHALLENGED and COPS CLUELESS. So true . A serial killer, the
people would quail, in their own midst. Oh my . If they only knew he’d
killed in their midst for years. Oh my .
    How many victims would it take before they wised up? Martha was the third of his six. But they hadn’t
found Martha yet and he was growing impatient. Fortunately he was disciplined
enough to stick with his plan, falling back on the tried and true for relief.
    He dragged the hooker’s body to the pit and rolled her
in. He threw her clothes in after, except for her shoes. Those he would keep,
as he’d done dozens of times before.
    He donned the coveralls he’d taken from the man he’d
hired to dig the pit, twenty years before. Who, bullet in his head, had become
its first inhabitant. He shoveled lime from the steel drum into the pit,
covering the body.
    Quicklime hastened decomposition of flesh without the
fuss and muss and foul odor, but one had to be careful. It was powerful stuff,
highly reactive with moisture. He kept his basement dry with dehumidifiers,
with a side benefit the preservation of his shoes.
    The pumps he’d taken from the feet of his first victim
nearly thirty years ago were in as good condition as the shoes he’d taken from
victims over the last three weeks.
    He finished the hooker’s burial by adding dirt to
cover the lime, pulled the handle on the slab to cover the pit. Just as he’d
done dozens of times before.
    But although this killing had fulfilled its purpose,
it was a shadow next to the triumph he’d feel when the police realized they had
a bona fide serial killer on their hands.

Chapter Two
    Sunday, February 21, 7:55 p.m.
     Sorry again. I gotta get a new phone,” Jack said,
crossing Martha’s bedroom.
    Noah had been waiting, stewing for half an hour. Jack
had said he’d change clothes, but his eyes held a satisfaction any man would
recognize. He’d had sex with Katie. While a victim hung from her damn ceiling.
That was it. I’m going to have to report him .
    “Whatever, Jack,” he said coldly, but if Jack detected
his fury, it didn’t show.
    “So, introduce me to the lady with the Bette Davis
eyes and get this party swinging.”
    The ME techs were impatiently waiting to cut the body
down, but Noah had wanted Jack to see the scene. I shouldn’t have bothered.
I might have a new partner soon .
    “Martha Brisbane,” Noah said tightly. “Forty-two,
single. Found by her neighbor.”
    “It’s cold in here. Did the neighbor open the window
or did Ms. Brisbane?”
    “The neighbor said the window was open.”
    “Well, it could be worse. It could be August. Shit.
Are her eyes glued open?”
    “Yes,” Noah bit out. “They are.” Just like the
other one.
    “That’s one you don’t see every day.” Then Jack shrugged.
“At least this should be quick. I might even get back to Katie in time for
dessert. If you know what I mean.”
    Noah bit his tongue, saved from a response by ME tech
Isaac Londo. “So now that Detective GQ’s finally here, can we finally cut her down?”
    “No,” Noah said sharply.
    “I got twenty on tonight’s game,” Londo grumbled. “I
want to get out of here.”
    CSU’s Micki Ridgewell looked up from putting her
camera away. “What’s the big deal, Web? The vic strung herself from the
ceiling, kicked the stool away, and died.”
    Jack frowned, as if finally realizing something was
up. “What’s wrong