The Night Monster Read Online Free PDF Page B

the rear window covered in duct tape. It was the same vehicle from the Bank Atlantic Center. I drew my Colt.
    I approached the driver’s door. Through the tinted side window glowed the orange ember of a cigarette. Grabbing the handle, I jerked the door open.
    Behind the wheel sat the stalker. Headbanger music blared out of his car radio, his fingers tapping out the beat on the wheel. He shot me a startled look.
    “Remember me?” I asked.
    The stalker nodded stiffly, his eyes never leaving my Colt.
    “Get out, and keep your hands where I can see them.”
    He hopped out of the minivan, tossing his butt to the ground. Enough light was coming from the motel for me to get a good look at him. Small of build, with rotting teeth and a crooked nose, his darting eyes made him look feral.
    “What’s your name?” I asked.
    “Mouse,” he mumbled.
    “Is that your first or last name?”
    “Just Mouse.”
    “Okay, Mouse, put your hands in the air.”
    Mouse lifted his arms into the air. There was something childlike about the way he acted that made me think he was not all there. But that didn’t make him any less dangerous. I stuck my head into the open door and peered inside the minivan. The interior had been stripped and reeked of paint remover. I pulled my head back out.
    “Where’s your partner?” I asked.
    “I don’t have a partner,” Mouse replied.
    “Stop lying. Which girl on the basketball team are you after?”
    Mouse’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
Guilty as charged
.
    I decided to frisk him, but I didn’t do it the old-fashioned way. Instead, I made Mouse turn his pockets inside-out, and when I saw that he wasn’t carrying a weapon, I had him unbutton his shorts, and drop them to his knees. Then I made him do a slow three-sixty spin. It was a great way to humiliate a person, and often led to a suspect opening up. Seeing that he was clean, I let him pull his pants back up.
    “Where’s your partner?” I asked again.
    Mouse hesitated, then pointed at the row of rooms where the Lady Seminoles were staying. “There.”
    “Show me,” I said.
    Mouse started toward the motel. When asked, criminals often ledpeople of authority to places where they’d committed crimes. I’d never fully understood the reason, and guessed the answer was rooted in the subconscious.
    Mouse stopped at the last room in the row. The door was closed, the shades on the window tightly drawn.
    “Is your partner in there?” I asked.
    “Maybe,” he said.
    I ripped the baseball cap from his head, and used it to slap him in the face. I couldn’t do that as a cop, but I wasn’t a cop anymore.
    “Stop hitting me,” Mouse protested.
    “Is he in there or not?”
    “He’s in there.”
    “Knock on the door. When he answers, tell him everything is okay, that you were just checking up on him.”
    “Okay.”
    Mouse rapped loudly on the door, then took a step back. I should have taken that as a warning that something bad was about to happen, but my adrenaline was pumping and I felt in control of the situation. From the other side of the door came a woman’s muffled scream. A smile crossed Mouse’s lips.
    “What’s so funny?” I said.
    “You’ll see,” he replied.
    The door banged open, and I found myself staring at a huge man dressed in a black sweatshirt and black pants, his face covered by a ski mask. He was so big, he had to duck beneath the door frame as he came out. Even though I was holding a gun, his presence scared the daylights out of me, and I stepped back.
    “Stop right there,” I said.
    The giant stopped. Slung over his shoulder was a young woman wearing gray sweats. She lifted her head, and I saw that it was Sara Long, the top scorer on Jessie’s team. Sara’s mouth was taped shut, her wrists hog-tied with rope. Seeing me, she let out a muffled scream.
    “Put her down,” I said.
    The giant grunted something unintelligible under his breath.
    “I mean business,” I said.
    “She’s mine,” the giant