Eric stared at the paint on the wall.
YOU ARE BEING WATCHED
Number 17 was gone. Shame. Someone had taken her.
He was not alone.
This was new. Exciting.
Now he had to travel armed.
Emily had no idea what to do with the girl. She hadn’t planned that far ahead.
She hadn’t planned at all. Sick fuck.
She knew about four others. God knows how long he’d been doing this. If ‘long’ was a term that could be used. ‘Often’, maybe?
She stopped. Caught her breath.
The hospital? A police station?
Which was nearer?
She pushed the cart she’d clumsily thrown the girl into through the crowds. The wheels skidded on the cobbles.