Part 6 (2/2)
She didn't know why, but that made her feel better. ”Okay. So this is between you and me, right?”
Dennis nodded. ”Do you want some soup?”
”Yes, but I can't walk.” She frowned at her feet. ”It hurts too much.”
”I can bring the soup in here.”
”Why are you helping me?”
His baffled expression indicated that he didn't understand her question.
”I mean, I must have looked awful the other night. Like I was crazy or something.”
”You were scared. Charlie always says we have to help our neighbors.”
”I think I'd like Charlie.”
Dennis smiled, his eyes lighting up. ”I love Charlie. He's nice to me.”
”What about your other brother?”
Dennis shrugged. ”He's moody. Charlie says he's selfish and won't grow up. But he always takes me to see baseball games. I love baseball.”
”I love baseball, too.”
Dennis grinned. ”And then after the game, if he doesn't have a girlfriend, I get to stay in his apartment and we watch movies, but not scary movies because I don't like them. Last time, we watched Star Wars, my favorite.”
He really was sweet. Kirsten felt awful for dragging this kid into her problems. ”Thank you for the clothes.”
”I looked at the tag in your dress for your size when-” He blushed several shades of red and averted his gaze. ”I'm sorry,” he mumbled. ”It was torn and you weren't talking. I didn't touch you, I promise. Just helped you put on one of Charlie's old s.h.i.+rts.”
”It's okay. You took care of me, and I feel a lot better.”
”I can take you home, if you want.”
She shook her head. ”Something strange happened at the warehouse.”
”I know. It was in the newspaper.”
”What? What was in the newspaper?”
”I didn't read it because it sounded scary, but I saw the picture of the warehouse. I'll bring it in, with your soup. Is it okay if you have soup for breakfast? It's only eight.”
”Thank you. And water, please.”
A few minutes later, Dennis came in with a tray. It was almost surreal-a fake rose in a bud vase, a bowl of soup, soda crackers, a tall gla.s.s of ice water, and the New York Post folded neatly. Everything was placed just so.
”It smells great.” Though she was starving, the thought of eating made her ill.
He beamed. ”I have to go to cla.s.s. It starts at nine, and I don't want to be late.”
”Is it really okay that I'm here?”
He nodded. ”Charlie isn't coming back until next week. And he won't mind.”
Kirsten wasn't so sure about that, but she didn't argue with Dennis.
”I'll be back after my cla.s.s.” He smiled and waved as he left.
Kirsten opened the newspaper. A headline on the bottom front read: Cinderella Strangler Strikes Again! P.13 Hands shaking, Kirsten turned to page thirteen.
Fourth victim found at abandoned Brooklyn warehouse BROOKLYN-Early Wednesday morning the body of an unidentified female was discovered by a private security company in the weed-choked parking lot of the abandoned paper mill near Gowa.n.u.s Bay.
NYPD lead detective Victor Panetta refused comment, other than to confirm that a female between the ages of 18 and 25 was found at dawn Wednesday and that the investigation was his top priority.
However, sources in the NYPD report that the crime scene matches three previous homicides. The first victim, 19-year-old Columbia University student Alanna Andrews, was discovered at a Haunted House set up in an abandoned apartment building in Harlem in the early morning hours of October 31. Erica Ripley, 21, an employee at a Java Central, was alleged to be the Cinderella Strangler's second victim. She was found on January 2 on the south side of the Bronx, in a field near an abandoned factory. And the third victim was identified as third-year NYU student Heather Garcia, 20, killed on February 5 at a party in Manhattanville. Her body was discovered next to a dumpster by sanitation workers. All four victims were found after attending an illegal ”underground” party at an abandoned site.
The Cinderella Strangler suffocates his victims and takes one of their shoes. Authorities refuse to comment on what the shoe may represent, but psychiatrist Emile DeFelice said the killer may have a foot fetish, or use the shoe in a bizarre s.e.x ritual. Some experts claim that serial killers take personal effects-usually panties or jewelry-from the victim as a so-called souvenir, in order to relive their crime at a later date.
The FBI has created a task force with NYPD and the NY Port Authority, suggesting that they are, in fact, tracking a serial killer.
Those close to the investigation say the task force has no leads. The FBI has sent a communication to all local colleges to raise awareness among students to be extra cautious when attending a rave. Authorities are looking for new ways to put a stop to the illegal parties. Community activists advise caution when attending any event. ”Go with someone you know, and leave with someone you know,” said a regular partygoer who asked to remain anonymous. ”Have fun, but be smart.”
Police are asking that anyone with information that may help them in their investigation call the task force hotline number. A $10,000 reward is offered by the FBI for any information leading to the conviction of the killer.
Kirsten pushed the tray aside. Jessie had been murdered by a serial killer?
Girls like you ...
Kirsten didn't know what to do. No one knew where she was.
She looked at the date on the paper. Thursday? It was already Thursday? She'd been sick for five days? She had to call her mother, let her know she was okay. The weekends were one thing, but she'd left home Friday night and now her mother must be frantic.
But what could she do? She couldn't crawl around the city. She needed someone she could trust, but she had no one.
Except ...
Trey would help her, she knew it. Her ex was still furious about the video, but they were talking again, and he'd told her that if she ever needed anything to just ask.
She saw a phone charger in the bedroom, but no phone. What if the owner had only a cell phone?
She crawled out of the bedroom and realized she hadn't been outside the room since she'd arrived. The view of New York City from the picture windows took her breath away. She sat on the floor and looked around.
If she'd thought the bedroom was nice, the living room was gorgeous. Plush gray carpeting; dark-gray leather furniture; gla.s.s tables and splashes of blues and greens in paintings and throw rugs. This guy, Dennis's brother, had to be rich.
She saw double doors across the room and made her way over, the effort depleting her energy. She was dizzy and tired.
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