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IN HER DREAM, HUTCH once again found herself looking through the murderer’s eyes. She watched in horror as he grabbed the woman from the shadows of the alley. The woman never had a chance to scream as the knife cut deep into her throat. Hutch felt helpless as the woman died. She tried to call out for someone to help but couldn’t.
Next, she was transported to the marshland. She pushed her way through the dense foliage. Fragments of moonlight penetrated the greenery. He continued moving closer to the bayou.
It was so real that Hutch swore she was there with him. She heard the crickets, felt the coolness of the air on her skin and smelled the damp scent of the earth. Breaking through the underbrush, he made his way to a clearing that led him to the bayou. The scene here was peaceful and serene, but that peacefulness would soon be shattered.
He turned his head slightly and breathed in the scent that came from the woman’s hair. It reminded him of candy apples. The coppery scent of blood mixing with her scent gave him a rush like none other.
He dropped the body unmercifully to the ground. Her face, smeared with blood and dirt, was frozen in a mask of terror. A sound in the woods caught his attention. The ghosts of those he’d killed emerged from the woods. Rage built in him as their voices echoed in his head.
He posed her in the murky water of the bayou. He stood at the precipice of the bayou looking down at her. A satisfied smile teased the corner of his mouth.
Hutch bolted upright in bed. If only she could erase the images from her mind. Every time she smiled, she envisioned the wicked grin of the killer. Hutch must stop this murderer. She had to help these poor women find peace.