Gregg Olsen - Victim Six

“How’s Max?” Kendall said.

“Better than I’d be,” Serenity said, as if what had happened to her in the Fun House was inconsequential.

Josh held the door open, and the two women went inside.

“You’re holding up pretty good,” he said. His tone was a little longing, and he knew it. But it didn’t matter.

“Considering. I guess so,” Serenity said, not allowing herself to be affected by Josh’s emotions. She couldn’t go there yet. Too much had happened. Too much still needed to be done. “I’m going to petition the court to let me take Max. He’s a good kid. I’m all the family he’s got.”

“Raising a child isn’t easy,” Kendall said, speaking from her heart and from the experience of having a child with special needs. A psychologically damaged child like Max Castile would come with a load of baggage.

“He’s got no one else but me,” Serenity said.

Late summer

Port Orchard

Serenity Hutchins woke up in the blackness of a mild summer night. She heard a noise coming from the kitchen of her Mariner’s Glen apartment. She opened her phone to see the time; it was almost 2 A.M. She’d had a hard time sleeping since the ordeal in the Fun House, and she’d made plans to pack up and move to Seattle. A call from Kendall Stark that afternoon that Sam Castille had been beaten to death in a prison holding cell had brought an unsettling mix of relief, anger, and sadness. Just like Dahmer, she thought.

She slipped her arms through the sleeves of a kimono that had belonged to her mother and navigated past boxes, rolls of tape, and a deluge of things she was either going to throw away or give to charity. Cautiously, she followed the noise down the hallway into the kitchen.

Her feet slipped a little on the wet floor.

Serenity flipped the switch on the ceiling light, and a drip of blood caught her eye. It was also smeared on the cheap cabinetry surrounding the sink. Her heart raced.

“Max!” she called out, running back down the hall toward the second bedroom.

Her nephew was sitting upright in bed.

She turned on the sailboat lamp on the bed stand. “Honey, are you all right? What happened?”

Max blinked away the bright light. “I’m okay,” he said.

She put her arms around him and held him.

“Did you cut yourself?”

He shook his head.

“I saw some blood in the kitchen.” She pulled his hands out from under the covers.

Clean. Good. He’s okay.

The next morning, the kitchen was clean. No blood anywhere. Serenity dismissed what she thought she’d seen. It had been a reaction to the stress of all she’d endured. The conselor she was seeing had told her it would take time to heal. To start over.

When she called for Mr. Smith to come to his full food dish, the cat was nowhere to be found. She called for her cat over and over, but no answer. Also missing was the box cutter that she’d set out on the dining table with other moving supplies. Its bloody tip wiped clean, the blade was wrapped up in a towel under the bathroom sink.

The author would like to thank David Chesanow, Jessica Wolfe, Tina Marie Brewer, Bunny Kuhlman, Jim Thomsen, and Charles Turner for their help in getting this book ready for readers.

To best-in-the-business editor Michaela Hamilton, literary agent Susan Raihofer, and film agent Joel Gotler: I greatly value all that each of you do on my behalf. Also, much appreciation to Kensington’s tireless Doug Mendini, who might have the most important job of all: seeing that my books get into the hands of booksellers across America and Canada.

I’d like to give a shout out to the reference librarians at the Peninsula Library in Gig Harbor for being so accommodating and giving me a home away from home-Joy, Adam, Beverly, and Lynn, you are the best.

While this is a work of fiction, I do want to acknowledge the time taken and the tours given by various Kitsap law enforcement offices. Thank you to Sheriff Steve Boyer, Detective Lt. Earl Smith, Corrections Sgt. Steve Lawson, and Deputy Scott Wilson of the Kitsap County Sheriff’s Office. Thanks also to Kitsap County Coroner Greg Sandstrom for the tour of the old coroner’s office.

Last, but surely not least, I’d like to acknowledge my beautiful and smart daughters, Morgan and Marta, and the love of my life, Claudia.