CHAPTER EIGHT
The hamster looked like a furry block of ice when he took it out of the freezer. It felt like a block of ice, too. He couldn’t help but giggle at the clink sound it made when he placed it on the cookie sheet. Its legs were sticking up in the air—a stark contrast to the way they had been pedaling back and forth in panic when he had first placed it in the freezer.
That had been three days ago. Since then, the police had discovered the girl’s body in the river. He had been surprised at how far the body had made it. All the way to Watertown. And the girl’s name had been Patty Dearborne. Sounded pretentious. But damn, that girl had been beautiful.
He thought idly of Patty Dearborne, the girl he had taken from the outskirts of the BU campus as he ran his finger along the hamster
