HE TOOK HIS art collection back to the City Museum and met with the acting curator, Randy Michaels, after work. The man seemed snooty at first, but then he warmed up and practically drooled all over the paintings.

“I think these will make a fine addition to the art show,” he raved. “For a new artist, you have plenty of talent with room to grow. Are you attending school?”

“No,” he grunted. “I’m teaching myself, but I have had classes in the past.”

Mr. Michaels looked at the paintings again. “Well, raw talent should always be honed into fine skills, by whatever means you choose, but these will certainly do for now.” He squinted his eyes. “That’s a lovely shade of red; it’s kind of crimson but not quite.”

He smiled and wondered what the man would do if only he knew the truth. “It’s a special blend I made by mixing a few mediums.”

“It works. I like the way it pops in contrast to everything else. Let me print out an agreement between you and the museum for us to display your artwork in the gala this holiday weekend. We shall split the sales seventy-thirty. It’s a great way to get discovered and to be permanently featured in the museum.” He was already busy typing something into his laptop. “Now, spell your name exactly how you want it to appear.”

“My first name is S-E-A-N, and my last name is spelled P-E-I-R-I-C-K,” he told the curator.

“Terrific. Now, you’ll want to be here for the gala to network with the other artists and the buyers of course. It starts at 9:00 tomorrow and runs until we close at 7:00. We are closed Sunday and Monday for the holiday. Anything that isn’t sold can be claimed by you to take home, or you can leave it with me to consider it for placement among our collections. If I don’t place it, I’ll return it to you.” He held out some papers. “Please sign these if you agree.”

He signed his pen name with a steady hand. He had no doubts about anything the curator said. He was certain his work would be sold or placed. They shook hands, and he accepted a copy of the signed documents. His paintings remained there, so the staff could set them up with the others on display for tomorrow’s gala.

When he left the museum, he picked up takeout for dinner and went to the house in Town and Country to check up on the mousy woman. According to her license, her name was Margie Moore, which perfectly suited her librarian appearance.

“You know, taking the bus can be very dangerous,” he taunted her as he approached with his butcher knife. “And didn’t your mother tell you not to talk to strangers? Mine did, but strangers weren’t the ones I needed to fear. However, I won’t bore you with the details of my abusive childhood that probably turned me into the stand-up man I am today. No, I believe in showing rather than telling.”

He used the tip of the knife to cut off the top buttons of her blouse. It was just enough to expose the tops of her small breasts.

“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t do this. You don’t want to do this.”

He tilted his head and grinned. “Oh, but I do. You see, I don’t want to die alone.”

He raked the knife across her collarbone, spilling her essence into her B-cups. He picked up the empty canister he had nearby and collected enough of it to mix up another batch of blood-red paint. Then, because his head was still pounding, he covered her mouth with duct tape, stifling her screams.

“Sorry, love, but I’ve got a headache from hell. You understand, don’t you?” He tapped her on the chin in an almost sweet gesture. “I’ll check on you in the morning. Sleep well.”

He left her chained to the chair because he didn’t have the strength to struggle with chaining her to the wall. He stopped walking up the stairs and turned back to look at her and the vacant wall chains, forming a brilliant idea. He decided to leave her there and take on another guest, and he knew just whom he wanted. He wanted the detective’s fine-looking sister. He’d done his homework, so he knew where she lived and where she worked. Taking her would definitely lure Sasha Delossa to him. He laughed to himself. I’ve never done sisters before.