Darker Still by T. S. Worthington Page A

police instinct,” Michaels said with a smile.
    “So, this kid Trevor—picked the photographer out of the crowd of the last crime scene. The guy was standing in the back—has to be six foot five or six—he was taking pictures of that too with that same camera.”
    “Ok. Let’s pull the footage from surveillance cameras in that area and see if we can get a positive ID on the car and a license plate number.”
    “Already ahead of you. I’ve got the geeks getting that footage as we speak,” John said.
    His mind was spinning quite a bit. For the Ripper to be this careful after all of these years and he misses the fact that a kid saw him stalking a girl who ended up dead. Guess it was a bit unlikely that the kid knew the girl, especially since she was older than him and he did not engage her in conversation. According to Trevor she didn’t even see him at all.
    Plus if you factor in that the man was in his fifties and his eyesight was probably not what it used to be. He might not have even noticed that Trevor had seen him. Or he might have just had that momentary lapse in judgement as he became twisted and focused on his target like any skilled hunter out there. When you were focused one hundred percent on the target you did not let anyone interfere with your concentration.
    The body of Holly Janson was horribly mangled, possibly worse than anybody they had seen so far. She was basically hollowed out with her internal organs removed from her chest and abdominal cavity. Her body was covered in blood, but John knew that they would not get a damn drop of the Ripper’s blood. No way, no how.
    The Ripper was still careful and methodical, but he was making mistakes. It was possible that he was unravelling. That was what happened to all serial killers. There was no retirement. There had been cases in the past of serial killers like BTK who went underground for many years, before deciding to reemerge and make their presence known, and then they had been caught. The technology had finally caught up to their old ways and the old tricks did not work as well for them anymore.
    But the Ripper had continued to kill. John was certain of it. He had just gone back to doing what he had done before. There had been nothing at his original house of horrors to link who he was to the crimes. So he had gotten away free and clear. What was to stop him from doing the same thing and just starting over? John believed he did do that, but something set him off and left him wanting attention. So he had begun to lash out. Now he was going to pay the ultimate price. John had no doubt in his mind.
    *
    Listening to the girl’s screams had been one of the most fulfilling things that he had experienced in a while. Every now and then he picked a girl who was truly worthy of him. Holly Janson had put up a brilliant fight. She was sexy and smart and tough. He could tell that she was scared to death and she was doing everything in her power not to break. Her pride would never let her show him the fear that he craved, but he knew that eventually he would break her. She had no idea of the adversary she was dealing with. He had been doing this for a very long time and he was better at it than she was.
    She had started by being defiant and spitting in his face every time he came near her. She was not the first to try that tactic and he had shown her what happens to bad girls who spit at Daddy. His trusty pair of pliers did a nice job of silencing her sweet tongue. The look on her face when he yanked it out was priceless.
    There had been no more spitting after that. But there had been an awful lot of choking, which he enjoyed.
    After the lesson with the pliers she had been dutiful for about half a day and then she had grown defiant again when he asked her to pose for him for his camera. So he had to show her once again what happens when you don’t pose for your master.
    She had found it more difficult to pose with broken ribs, but she had managed just fine. He