Killing Katie (An Affair With Murder) (Volume 1) (33 page)

Ghoul’s life was officially over. I saw the white sheet being pulled up to cover his head. The hit was complete, ending my task. I could leave now, but I decided to finish my food instead. The older waitress stopped at the end of the table and motioned to the empty booth seat. She asked for permission to join me without saying a word.

“Of course,” I told her and sipped at my soda.

“Would you look at that?” Ms. Potts said, sitting and moving closer to the diner’s front window. “Probably some drunk from
that
bar. Got himself in a bad way, I’m guessing. Seen it time and again . . . never made it home.” By the inflection in her voice, I guessed there had been problems with the Irish pub on the street’s corner.

“Could be,” I answered as I peered through the wet pockmarks on the glass. “Never can tell.”

“Mmm hmm. You got that right,” she added, nodding her head. “Hope the unpleasantness isn’t too much for you, honey.”

I shook my head and smiled. “Not at all.”

“Ain’t hardly ever a scene ’round here ’cept when it comes to
that
bar,” she said, a disapproving frown forming as she shook her head and got up from the booth. “You let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you,” I said, smiling as she winked at me.

“Diner’s slow. I can grab some coffee and lend an ear if you’d like the company.” I raised my chin, surprised by the offer, thinking that it was sweet, but said nothing. The bell above the door chimed, catching her attention. A small group of teens charged in, bringing with them the smell of the weather and stories and speculation about the ambulance and why the lights and sirens weren’t on.

“It means they are dead!” someone hollered over the commotion.

“Think about it! Why would they need lights and sirens if they’re carrying a dead person?” another voice added.

“It was quiet for a spell, anyway,” Ms. Potts said, letting out a sigh and giving me one last wink before corralling the teens into nearby booths. She whipped out her order pad, flipped the pages over, and pulled a pencil from her bluish hair. When she licked the end and began to write, I dropped what I owed onto the table and found my way to the door.

The taste of my sandwich stayed with me as I crossed the playground, passing the jungle gym and where Pigtails had thrown the tree branch onto the street. By now, the ambulance was just a tiny matchbox toy sitting in a row of traffic that looked faded in the drizzly wet air. Although Pigtails had disappeared behind the safety of heavy rain, Ghoul would have been back the next day. Somewhere deep inside me, I felt a notion of certainty, convincing me that he’d have come back for her. He was about repetition and order and patterns. That would have led him to kill Pigtails eventually. And while I’d killed again, I’d also saved a life today. I was convinced of that fact. As I stared at the smashed tree branch, it warmed me inside to know that Pigtails now had a chance to grow up.

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Happy reading,

Brian