[SP] every time you kill someone, their fatal wound shows up as a scar on your body.
*****
I watched Terry Dahl look around the street, paying close attention to the windows of the apartments. I slowly shied away from mine, closing the blinds as I thought about the turn the situation had taken.
How did he know I lived here? For how long had he been tailing me? It was obvious he didn't follow me here, and he had not done that before anyway, because he did not know the particular house, and he was trying to blend in so that he could watch me exit my apartment while being unnoticed.
Wherever my apartment was, that is. As I speculated, he still did not know exactly where I lived, and we were still in this interesting cat and mouse deadlock. I smiled at the prospects of leading him on and making him think he had me cornered, only for me to turn the tables and finish him off.
So, for some reason., maybe by some flyer or something I'd left at the gym, he'd figured out that I lived in this area. I smiled. Terry Dahl had just made himself my enemy. I rarely ever played games while killing people, and most certainly not in ordinary clean-up jobs like this. But Terry Dahl had proven to pose an annoying, formidable foe, and it seemed I would enjoy my time dealing with him.
But for now, I decided to monitor his actions. I knew he would probably use his badge and a picture to ask around, trying to see whether anyone could point him in the direction of my apartment. But then again, he ran the risk of letting me know that he was sticking his nose up in my business.
After all, for all he knew, I could be running a gang here, and I could have a network with a wide reach facilitated by members who blended in with the public. Which was why he entered the outdoor cafe close by and made an order. He was trying very hard to blend in and look natural, and it was funny to me.
I knew that I could not let Terry Dahl continue to live for longer than two days, max. But I needed to go about it cleanly and make my getaway before things got too hot. I could see the scenario clearly. I couldn't tail him from the gym or from the precinct where he worked, after all, this wasn't a fortune teller in times square, or a stripper in a nightclub. The Detective would easily catch on to what was going on, and this would only aggravate the situation.
The easiest way to do it was to get me and him in the same car without anyone seeing this happening. Better still if he was the driver of the car. From there, I imagined how the whole thing would go down, and I nodded to myself. The trap was set, and I was sure Dahl would take it to hook, line, and sinker.
****
Two days later, I went to the gym without my car. Terry didn't miss this, ever the stalker. It annoyed me the way he never failed to observe the smallest things about me. What the hell made him think that someone he didn't know from Adam could be the biggest catch he'd ever make as a Detective? And the most annoying part was that all of this was true, and he was on the verge of uncovering something if he kept on at the rate which he was digging.
But this time, it was all a part of my trap.
"Something wrong with your car, Lenard?" He asked in his faux patronizing voice, laced with the sneer of someone who had very low regard for the person he was speaking to. No one would ever detect this except the two of us stuck in this little tug of war,
"Don't worry about t," I said, shrugging it off as we began our workouts.
I'd made it a habit of coming here earlier than anyone else, except the owner of this place of course, and because he was a stupid stalker, he began doing the same too. That meant that no one knew of this our little one-two conversation. Also, I had made a habit of leaving last, and he'd done the same.
That meant no one would see me finally agreeing to enter his car, and him zooming off.
It all went according to plan. Terry of course pressured me into entering the car, and I finally agreed, He began driving to my apartment area, without me telling him the directions of course.
I turned. "How do you know where my house is located? I doubt I have ever told you about that place, and neither have you ever told me about your coming here for any business. So how do you know where I live?"
He maintained his composure. "I'm sure you know this, but I'm very much interested in you as a detective. You may not be able to understand this, but my instinct kicked at the moment I met you, you know?"
"No, I don;lt. I think I want to get the f*CK out of this car, now!"
That was it, the bait. Terry had this smug look on his face that seemed to convey the message that he knew something big, and this was the best time for him to reveal it, to corner me.
"Do you know about the death of a fortune-teller called Sandra Seance?"
Bingo!
*****
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