Chapter Twenty Two


Dear Girl Who is Already Dead

This is what the murderer thought:

He thought, “The girl tends to come out in the early evening, except for Wednesdays. On Wednesdays she comes out in the morning when the mist still covers Matthews Beach. Useful.”

He thought, “She always runs alone and then stretches out by the water. Useful.”

He thought, “She tends to favor her right ankle, which seems to be a little unstable. Endearing, that. She is friendly to the other joggers on the trail, and doesn’t mind falling into step with them temporarily, and will even chat with them. Useful.”

He thought, “Something about her eyes. Something about the soft paleness of her throat. She seems to run above the ground, not necessarily across it. I think she was not created for this earth, but from the stars. And to the stars I will release her.”

Briefly he thought that this could be a kindness, but then he pushed the thought away. He is not a man who dwells on being kind.

Her time is com
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