Gabrielle De Cuir

All words fell away. I pushed myself off the path, noticing for the first time the signs of earlier passage-the matted earth, broken twigs. And I knew. My mouth turned cottony. I licked my lips, took three halting steps. My maddening, visual brain churned out pictures of colorless faces on a cold slab-Debbie Lille, victim number one; Wanda Deminger, number three…He'd been here. Dragged this one right where I now stumbled. I'd entered a crime scene,...

As I drew, the house felt eerie in its silence... A strange sense stole over me, as though Bland and I were two actors on stage, our movements spotlighted, black emptiness between us. But that darkness grew smaller as the space between us shrank. I did not know if this sense was due to my immersion in Bland's face and mind and world, or to my fear of his threatening presence. Or both... The nerves between my shoulder blades began to tingle. Help me,...