Kiss the Girls
By James PattersonTime Warner AudioBooks
Copyright © 2005 James Patterson
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9781594831195
Chapter One
CASANOVABoca Raton, Florida, June 1975For three weeks, the young killer actually lived inside the walls ofan extraordinary fifteen-room beach house.
He could hear the whispery Atlantic surf outside, but he was nevertempted to look out at the ocean or the private white-sand beachthat stretched to three hundred feet or more along the shore. Therewas too much to explore, to study, to accomplish, from his hidingplace inside the dazzling Mediterranean-revival-style house in Boca.His pulse hadn't stopped hammering for days.
Four people lived in the huge house: Michael and Hannah Pierce andtheir two daughters. The killer spied on the family in the mostintimate ways, and at their most intimate moments. He loved all thelittle things about the Pierces, especially Hannah's delicateseashell collection and the fun fleet of teak sailboats that hungfrom the ceiling in one of the guest rooms.
He watched the elder daughter, Coty, day and night. She attended St.Andrews High School with him. She was stunning. No girl in schoolwas as beautiful or as smart as Coty. He was also keeping his eye onKarrie Pierce. She was only thirteen, but already a budding fox.
Although he was more than six feet tall, he easily fit into theair-conditioning ducts of the house. He was wire thin and hadn'tstarted to fill out yet. The killer was handsome in an Easternpreppy way.
Stashed in his hiding place were a handful of dirty novels, highlyerotic books he had found during fevered shopping trips to Miami. Hehad become addicted to The Story of O, School Girls in Paris, andVoluptuous Initiations. He also kept a Smith and Wesson revolver inthe walls with him.
He went in and out of the house through a casement window in thecellar that had a broken latch. Sometimes he even slept down there,behind an old, gently purring Westinghouse refrigerator, where thePierces kept extra beer and soda pop for their gala parties, whichoften ended with a bonfire on the beach.
Truth be told, he was feeling a little extra weird that night inJune, but nothing to worry about. No problems.
Earlier in the evening, he had handpainted his body in brightstreaks and splashes of cherry red, orange, and cadmium yellow. Hewas a warrior; a hunter.
He huddled with his chrome-plated .22-caliber revolver, flashlight,and grope-books in the ceiling over Coty's bedroom. Right on top ofher, so to speak.
Tonight was the night of nights. The beginning of everything thatreally mattered in his life.
He settled in and began to reread favorite passages from SchoolGirls in Paris. His pocket flashlight cast a dim light on the pages.The book was definitely a major turn-on, but also a big yuk. It wasabout a "respectable" French lawyer who paid a buxom headmistress tolet him spend nights inside a hotsy-totsy boarding school for girls.The story was filled with the hokiest language: "his silver-tippedferrule," "his faithless truncheon," "he gamahuched the ever-willingschoolgirls."
After a while he got tired of reading, and peeked at his wristwatch.It was time now, almost 3:00 a.m. His hands were shaking as he putthe book aside and peered through the cross-hatching of the grill.
He could barely catch his breath as he watched Coty in bed. The veryreal adventure was now before him. Just as he had imagined it.
He savored a thought: My real life is about to begin. Am I reallygoing to do this? Yes, I am! ...
He was definitely living in the walls of the Pierce beach house.Soon that nightmarish, eerie fact would dominate the front page ofevery major newspaper throughout the United States. He could hardlywait to read the Boca Raton News.
THE BOY IN THE WALLS!
THE KILLER WHO ACTUALLY LIVED IN THE WALLS OF A FAMILY'S HOUSE!
A STARK-RAVING HOMICIDAL MANIAC COULD BE LIVING IN YOUR HOUSE!
Coty Pierce was sleeping like the most beautiful little girl. Shehad on an oversized University of Miami Hurricanes T-shirt, but ithad moved up and he could see the pink silk bikini pantiesunderneath.
She slept on her back, one sunbrowned leg crossed over the other.Her pouty mouth was just slightly open, forming the tiniest o, andshe looked all innocence and light from his vantage point.
She was almost a full-grown woman now. He'd watched her preen infront of the wall mirror just a few hours before. Watched her take off her pink lacy push-up bra. Watched her as she stared ather perfect breasts.
Coty was unbearably haughty and untouchable. Tonight he was going tochange all that. He was going to take her.
Carefully, silently, he removed the metal grill in the ceiling. Thenhe crawled out of the wall and down into Coty's sky-blue-and-pinkbedroom. His chest felt constricted, and his breathing was quick andlabored. One minute he felt hot, the next he was shivering and cold.
Two small plastic trash bags covered his feet and were securedaround his ankles, and he wore the light blue rubber gloves that thePierces' maid used for housecleaning.
He felt like a sleek Ninja warrior and looked like Terror itselfwith his naked handpainted body. The perfect crime. He loved thefeeling.
Could this be a dream? No, he knew it wasn't a dream. This was thereal deal. He was actually going to do this! He took a deep breathand felt a burning inside his lungs.
For a brief moment, he studied the peaceful young girl he'd admiredso many times at St. Andrews. Then he quietly slipped into bed withthe one-and-only Coty Pierce.
He took off a rubber glove and gently caressed her perfect,sun-bronzed skin. He pretended that he was smoothing coconut-scentedsuntan oil all over Coty. He was rock-hard already.
Her long blond hair was sunbleached and felt as soft as rabbit'sfur. It was thick and beautiful and smelledforest-clean, like balsam. Yes, dreams do come true.
Coty suddenly popped open her eyes. They were shiny emerald greengems, and they looked like priceless jewels from Harry Winston's inBoca.
She breathlessly said his name-the name she knew him by at school.But he had given himself a new name; he'd named himself, re-createdhimself.
"What are you doing here," she gasped. "How did you get in?"
"Surprise, surprise. I'm Casanova," he whispered against her ear.His pulse was racing off the charts. "I chose you from all thebeautiful girls in Boca Raton, in all of Florida. Aren't youpleased?"
Coty started to scream. "Shush now," he said, and smothered hersmall lovely mouth with his own. With a loving kiss.
He also kissed Hannah Pierce on that unforgettable evening of mayhemand murder in Boca Raton.
Shortly after, he kissed thirteen-year-old Karrie.
Before he was finished for the night, he knew that he really wasCasanova-the world's greatest lover.
Continues...
Excerpted from Kiss the Girlsby James Patterson Copyright © 2005 by James Patterson. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
She says she doesn’t have that much of life left, and she won’t waste it on tears.Highlighted by 170 Kindle readers
