She also seemed content to leave it at that.We woke at three in the morning, both wanting / needing a drink of water. We gulped down the first glassfu..., then took our refills out into the back – without troubling the dogs – and looked at the ocean in the moonlight. It was quiet and dark, just the odd rumble from LAX and a procession of air navigation strobe lights blinking in the sky. You could even hear the waves breaking on the shore. I had a devilish thought. “You ever made love standing up. Don’t you fucking get it? Don’t you understand why we took you? It’s because of who you’re married to! Your husband and his fucking book about us, ‘The Retrospective Murders,’ are ruining my life!” She cringed from Chuck yelling in her ear and his stale breath.“Myself, I prefer what the Miami Police called us, ‘The Anniversary Killers,’” Arnie smiled.“Seventeen fucking women murdered by us, seventeen, and the stupid ass fucking Police haven’t got a shred of evidence against us! The last one. More

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