It was dark when the killer shut off the engine.

Only the soft ticks of cooling metal broke the silence.

It was still warm and posty inside the truck.

Outside, where mounds of snow lined the alley, temps were in the teens.

A quick wardrobe check and the killer would be ready.

Black robe, black gloves, black gun.

One can imagine a short, steady breath before the killer pulled on the Halloween mask.

It was a grim reaper number.

Black mesh allowed the wearer to see out, but no one to see in.

It came with a black peaked hood attached.

All of it cost a couple of bucks at Walmart.

Up to this instant, it would have been easy to drive away, easy to do nothing, to melt

into the city and become one of the faceless.

Oh, but now, no now the killer was committed.

Pressure had been building like steam in a boiling teapot for weeks.

No month really.

The killer knew the target's routine.

New the woman would be locking up and stepping into the parking lot any minute now.

The thing had to be done and it had to be done right now.

The grim reaper opened the truck door and walked risk to the kill zone.

Let's see, I can't step in the emergency.

25 on the five, a lot of Avenue.

...