Times Three

As he came to the first door he slowly peered around the corner. It held a desk with a computer, a filing cabinet and three bookshelves. He moved further down the hallway to the second door on the right. There was a queen size bed, which held a sleeping brunette. She was alone in the room.

Raynor quickly moved to the third door, which was on the left. It was a bathroom. Now knowing that there was no one else in the house he let out the breath that he had been holding and went back to the bedroom.

He stood against the doorframe staring at the woman. She was beautiful. Her hair was laid out almost perfectly on the pillow behind her. She had the covers pulled only to her waist revealing that she wore a shiny satin nightgown that was a deep hunter green.

Raynor pulled the .45 out of the holster under his arm. He checked to make sure the silencer was on tight and he checked the clip. Everything looking as it should, he placed it back in the holster. Not wanting to do anything prematurely he found it necessary to bring a gun along in case of an emergency. If she woke before he planned and saw him, he would have to shoot her.

He could not afford to rush anything and he would not let himself be forced into making her part of his plan until he was ready. He was certain that Michelangelo was never forced to rush a work of art, and he planned on keeping things that way for himself.

While the woman slept he walked through her house trying to find out everything about her that he could. He noticed that she was very orderly. Everything was very clean and seemed to be in its place.

On the wall in the living room he found a picture of the woman with a cap and gown on. There was an elderly couple, which he felt were the woman's parents. Though what was most interesting was a picture of the woman with a man and a child. It looked like a newborn picture of the baby, and judging from the clothes, and the hairstyles of the woman and man, the picture couldn't have been taken more than three or four years ago.

He wondered if they had been killed or if there had been a divorce and the woman was deemed an unfit mother, losing custody of her child.

Going into the office he opened the top drawer to her file cabinet and looked at the files. They were all folders containing bills. There was one labeled car, insurance, mortgage, utilities, and medical. He pulled out one of the envelopes and read her name, Victoria Guiles.

Looking through the medical folder he found hospital bills showing that a Vincent Guiles and a Chelsea Guiles were both hospitalized after a car accident. Chelsea died after two days in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, and Vincent died after being on life support for thirteen days. The bill was dated two years and three months ago.

After walking through the rest of the house Raynor came to the conclusion that the woman had no current boyfriend and may still be mourning the death of her family.

After watching her for another twenty minutes Raynor took out his knife. He held it in his hand and smiled at the twisted reflection of himself in the blade. He did not view the knife as an object, but as an extension of his hand. It was exquisite. He had it hand made especially for the occasion. The handle was made of black ivory with vines made of platinum winding their way up the handle to the blade. The blade was almost seven inches long, curved wickedly at the end and was sharp enough to split hair.

Raynor was certain that this woman was perfect for him. He looked at her once more then left his mark. He knew that he was actually doing her a favor, for she would be joining her husband and daughter soon.

Vahn sat straight up in her bed startled from her sleep. She looked at the clock; it read 2:40 a.m. She had an overwhelming feeling that someone had been in her house watching her sleep.

She pushed her back up against her headboard and let her eyes scan the room. Seeing nothing she leaned over slightly and tried to peer into her bathroom.

Getting out of her bed she took her gun out of its holster which had been lying on her nightstand. She searched her entire house finding nothing.

After checking all the doors and windows Vahn returned to her room satisfied that her house was secure. Though the anxiety she was feeling must have come from a dream, she could not shake the feeling that someone had been standing over her, watching her sleep.

Two nights later Raynor returned to Victoria's house. To his delight, she had again left the sliding doors unlocked. He entered quietly, and slowly made his way back to her bedroom. On this night she was wearing a gown of the same style, but it was a wine color. Her hair was braided, which pulled her hair away from her face. She appeared so much younger this way. He liked it, and wondered if she wore it that way often.

Reaching to the inside pocket of his jacket, he pulled out a pad and a pencil. He wanted to write down every thought that came to mind about how to kill her. He wanted each kill within his plan to fit the individual woman's personality. Of course he would always have to leave his trademark, but besides that he wanted each victim to be unique.

After filling two full pages of his notepad, he again pulled out his knife.