FIFTEEN

SETH’S DESIRE TO KILL WASN’T FUELED BY THE NEED TO RECTIFY A WRONG. He didn’t see himself as a vigilante. He didn’t care about any particular crime or type of crime. He didn’t care about his victims, either. Although his first kill as a child had been purely by accident, he was surprised by the way he felt afterward. He liked the feeling, and that was simply the reason he’d continued to kill.

Seth couldn’t blame his desire or his actions on abusive or overly permissive parents. He’d had a wonderful childhood. His parents had been wealthy, educated, attentive, and loving. He wasn’t a loner; he’d had friends throughout school. Only one person had known his secret, and that person was dead. He’d stopped killing after college for no particular reason; he just wasn’t getting the rush he had gotten when he was younger. Not to mention he wasn’t interested in getting caught and ending up in prison. However, eventually it was time to start killing again, and he’d looked forward to again feeling the rush that came with controlling whether someone lived or died.

Seth had decided Detective Connard would be the first. He had deserved to die. Picking him was easy. The guy was a pompous, arrogant ass, and he made other good cops look bad. He bullied and abused people to get their confessions. Not only was he a lousy cop, he was a lousy husband who beat his wife whenever he got drunk. Seth truly didn’t think anyone would really miss Connard, not even his wife. He had been curious to see just how long it would take the coroner to identify the detective’s body and whether Connard’s wife would report him as missing. But the only thing Seth had known for certain before the kill was the name of his victim, and when and how he would kill him.

He also knew Connard wouldn’t be the last.