Who: Dexter and Whomever stumbles upon him What: 'Shopping' When: Aug 29, afternoon Where: Outdoor's and More (Downtown) Status: Incomplete
It as a fine, crisp August afternoon. Well, that was an outright light. The sky was overcast and the air was muggy. Dexter missed the sun. The beach. His home. This place...it was foreign. It made him more cautious than usual. That feeling that he was always being watched plagued him. Even now, as he walked calmly through the sporting store, pretending to browse through fishing flies as his eyes stared past the rows of various bates and bobs to him.
This man was either very bold, or very stupid. Probably the latter. Fred Thompson had spent a majority of the day acting very normal. As if he hadn't shot his ex-wife dead just days before. It was no wonder. The police hadn't even launched a full scale investigation. There was no news in the local papers. It was like the middle-aged woman who'd once owned the Gas-N-Go had never existed.
Dexter suspected that the story was kept quiet to prevent the townspeople from worrying anymore than they already were. After all, the story about the mysterious new residence already had caused enough whispers. Adding murders to the onslaught might be a bit...much.
All the same, it would make his job easier. No...Dexter didn't like rumors either.
He'd learned quickly that Fred worked at the store four days a week, Wednesday through Saturday. His brother had owned the store before it was bought by an out of town investor, but he was allowed to stay on as a manager in the hunting department. Go figure.
Perhaps other people might be amazed how men like Thompson could keep such a straight face after committing such an act...
Dexter knew better. He knew what was inside of them. Because, it was inside of him as well. He knew it was just a mask. His eyes narrowed, staring now coolly and unaware for an instant that anyone might be watching him...