Read Dexter 3 - Dexter in the Dark for Free Online Page A

kill-
    And then he stopped suddenly in his tracks and slowly
moved away down a different aisle.
    Because the other's car had a very noticeable placard
lying on the dashboard.
    A police parking permit.
    He was very glad he had been patient. If the other was with the
police…This could be a much bigger problem than he had expected. Not good at
all. This would take some careful planning. And a great deal more observation.
    And so the Watcher slipped
quietly back into the night to prepare, and to watch.
     

Dexter 3 - Dexter in the Dark
    FIVE
    SOMEBODY ONCE SAID THAT THERE'S NO REST FOR THE wicked,
and they were almost certainly talking about me, because for several days after
I sent dear little Zander on to his just reward poor Dogged Dexter was very
busy indeed. Even as Rita's frenetic planning kicked into high gear, my job
followed suit. We seemed to have hit one of those periodic spells Miami gets
every now and then in which murder just seems like a good idea, and I was up to
my eyeballs in blood spatter for three days.
    But on the fourth day, things actually got a little bit worse. I had brought
in doughnuts, as is my habit from time to time-especially in the days following
my playdates. For some reason, not only do I feel more relaxed for several days
after the Passenger and I have a night encounter, but I also feel quite hungry.
I'm sure that fact is filled with deep psychological significance, but I am far
more interested in making sure I get one or two of the jelly doughnuts before
the savage predators in Forensics shred them all to pieces. Significance can
wait when doughnuts are on the line.
    But this morning I barely managed to grab one
raspberry-filled doughnut-and I was lucky not to lose a finger in the process.
The whole floor was buzzing with preparation for a trip to a crime scene, and
the tone of the buzz let me know that it was a particularly heinous one, which
did not please me. That meant longer hours, stuck somewhere far from
civilization and Cuban sandwiches. Who knew what I would end up with for lunch?
Considering that I had been short-changed on the doughnuts, lunch could prove
to be a very important meal, and for all I knew I would be forced to work right
through it.
    I grabbed my handy blood-spatter kit and headed out
the door with Vince Masuoka, who despite his small size had somehow grabbed two
of the very valuable filled doughnuts-including the Bavarian cream with the
chocolate frosting. “You have done a little too well, Mighty Hunter,”
I told him with a nod at his plundered loot.
    “The gods of the forest have been good,” he said, and took a
large bite. “My people will not starve this season.”
    “No, but I will,” I said.
    He gave me his terrible phony smile, which looked like something he had
learned to do by studying a government manual on facial expressions. “The
ways of the jungle are hard, Grasshopper,” he said.
    “Yes, I know,” I said. “First you must
learn to think like a doughnut.”
    “Ha,” Vince said. His laugh was even phonier
than his smile, sounding like he was reading aloud from a phonetic spelling of
laughter. “Ah, ha ha ha!” he said. The poor guy seemed to be faking
everything about being human, just like me. But wasn't as good at it as I was.
No wonder I was comfortable with him. That and the fact that he quite often
took a turn bringing the doughnuts.
    “You need better camouflage,” he said, nodding at my shirt, a
bright pink-and-green Hawaiian pattern complete with hula girls. “Or at
least better taste.”
    “It was on sale,” I said.
    “Ha,” he said again. “Well, pretty soon
Rita will be picking your clothes.” And then abruptly dropping his
terrible artificial jollity, he said, “Listen, I think I have found the
perfect caterer.”
    “Does he do jelly
doughnuts?” I said, truthfully hoping that the whole subject of my
impending
     
    matrimonial bliss would simply go away. But I had asked Vince to be my
best man, and he was taking the