2
The Escape
As he drove south, he found himself gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had gone white.
What the hell had she done? The bitch had had to die; there was absolutely no getting around it. How dare she think she could question him? Look down on him? Judge him? His work was important, vital and was none of her business. He could feel the rage start to course through him again.
He took a deep breath. He had loved her…in his own way, but yes, he was better off with her dead. He would not have to be concerned with her telling anyone about her discovery earlier this evening. He felt himself starting to relax. He hadn’t realized how tense he had gotten over the shock of her discovery. As if she could understand what he was doing! She had no idea just much he achieved in the time he spent away from her.
Ah, yes, now he was feeling under control again. Soon he would be back where he belonged and could get on with his life. No one would ever be the wiser. No one ever knew how often he came to see her. The house was set back enough in the forest that the neighbors couldn’t see who came and went.
Yes, he was safe now; safe from the obsession that kept him coming back, safe from her discovery. Now that she was dead he could start a new future, free of the weight of what he had known for years was risky to his own welfare; and after all, nothing was more important than his welfare.
Then he remembered that not all risk had been eliminated. What if the child had survived? Damn the girl. Where had she been? He had called out to her; tried to get her to come to him. She had not responded; he’d heard nothing. Well, he would just have to keep an eye on the local newspapers for awhile and find out if someone found her; dead or alive.
Linda Rae Blair, Author 