Page 3 of Stranger Danger

Instead, I dig the small camera out of my deepest pocket and try to find the best angle. Leaning all the way back on my heels, it almost looks right. My head tilts to the side, and it all comes together.

Click.

My work is so much better than this garbage.

The mechanical hum of the camera soothes my fraying nerves as it prints out the Polaroid in slow, chirping bits. Once it’s finished, I wave it side to side and blow on it, waiting for the final image to develop fully.

I scribble a note on the bottom and rest it on top of Raymond’s body.

The police have been covering my work for months now. I’ll call 911 when I get further away and drop a little hint that’ll lead them here.

If this psycho is going to ruin my evening…

They deserve a critique.

Inside my car, I peel off the ski mask and gloves. For a long minute, I just sit here, head leaned back against the headrest.

I should fix my crazy hair before I get home. Maybe put on more deodorant or body spray. Something. I can smell myself, and it’s not pleasant.

I’m hot, sticky, and uncomfortable but, more than that, I’m fucking furious.

Over a month of work… Gone.

It doesn’t matter how meticulous I am if someone undermines the final product.

By the time I make it back to the parking lot, my hands have sealed to the steering wheel. I’m still furious, but at least my face is back to completely neutral.

Fuck the idiot from before.

Wriggling out of the cargo pants and nondescript black hoodie, I shove them deep inside the overfilled backpack. The spare set of jeans and my Delta Tau hoodie go on next, along with the vanilla lotion I slather over my hands to neck to hide the smell of sweat. Then I grab my backpack and slam the car door behind me.

The cool October wind caresses my overheated face and slides underneath my hoodie. I shift the backpack to my other shoulder, stuffing the ski mask back deeper inside when it threatens to spill out, zipping it tighter.

“Beck!”

I glance over at Maya and raise a hand. “Hey. What’re you doing up this late?”

She doesn’t move from her spot on the girls’ dorm steps, furiously tapping out something on her phone. After a second, she pockets it and looks up at me.

“Boyfriend.”

Another gust of wind blows by, and she hugs her arms around herself.

“Delta Tau still throwing the Halloween party tomorrow?” she asks.

“We are.” I grin. “I am. I’m just using our frat’s big backyard. You coming?”

She chews on her lower lip, and I keep going.

“I’m making my famous Hawaiian jungle juice... Gavin’s DJing… Costumes are required… I will personally save you a lap seat…”

Finally, she laughs.

“Alright, alright. You convinced me.”

Good.

At least one thing is going right tonight.