Merlin and Cathy laughed at the sixtyish overweight couple sitting at the next booth, arguing over which household chores they should do on the weekend – raking leaves or taking down the screens, mopping the floors or putting away the patio furniture?
“Thank God we don’t have to worry about boring stuff like this,” Cathy said. “My biggest question this weekend is which gym will I go to on Saturday and what dress will I wear on our second date?”
Merlin knew there wouldn’t be a second date, but he went along. “As long as it’s showing skin, I’m fine with it. Let’s you and me head back to my place.”
An hour later, they’d gotten back to Merlin’s house in Lake Merced. He kept Cathy waiting in the living room while he caught up on texts – there would be Julie for coffee next Monday, Stephanie for dinner on Wednesday, Alex for a sex date on Thursday. No biggie, just a normal week.
“Come on, let’s you and me get cozy in the bedroom.” Ten minutes later he was thrusting inside her, hearing those infernal grunts women made when they were getting it – so Merlin just thrust harder and harder, and shifted his arms from her ankles to the mattress, leaned in to kiss her, and then he grabbed her neck with both hands and put all his weight into it.
All he heard was a low-pitched gurgle that lasted five seconds. Good – the stiff mattress and plywood under it worked. Her neck broke. Not even a trace of blood this time. Good, again – petite, as he always chose, he’d dump the body in his van, take it down to Half Moon Bay, toss it over the cliff. By next week, the police would be looking for someone named Kyle who worked for Wells Fargo and lived in Pacific Heights. He’d already have gone through Julie, Stephanie, and Alex by then.
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