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     "I love Beethoven"

     "I just love Beethoven," said Rick Shane’s mother. Actually, it wasn’t his mother speaking, just the memory of her. The odd melodic sound of Moonlight Sonata still rung in his ears, he hated classical music and especially hated that song. It reminded him too much of the green eyes of his dear, departed mother.

     Rick Shane huffed and puffed as he passed through the sporadic thickets of the field before him. He had crossed several miles and the police were bound to come after him, once they discovered that his cell was empty back at prison. For a brief moment, Rick stopped by a grove of sunflowers to rest. As he gazed toward the telephone poles that doted over the rows of old conifer trees, he couldn’t help to recall the plight of his last victim in sheer devilish delight.

     Only weeks ago, Rick had raped and murdered his ninth victim. She was an eleven-year-old, deaf girl with dark hair and bright, green eyes. He’d always been attracted to girls with green eyes, maybe it had something to do with his mother. Rick remembered when he planted the business end of a rusty hatchet through her head four years earlier. He could still see her green eyes fading away in that horrific look of shock. It was a hard thing to remember at times, but Rick often got aroused when he thought of his mother’s unexpected demise. He was a sexual sadist and by this time, America’s most wanted man had gotten used to that idea. In fact, he was rather proud of it. In the distance, he saw an old diner that was nestled between a twin set of tall, cement buildings; they were the only tall buildings in the dilapidated town that he found himself in.

     The diner was hot and humid today. Outside the ragged, rundown eatery, Rick entered through the old fashioned door. He was thick and muscular, sporting a wild array of jailhouse tattoos across his arms and neck. The escaped serial killer had planned his leave for four days and after a daring escape from the prison only three miles down the road, he was finally free, if only for the moment. Upon entering, he noticed a motley crew of people, eating and enjoying their coffee and grits. Some seemed oddly familiar to him. One in particular looked especially familiar. It was a man with a black patch placed over his right eye and a tattoo of an inverted pentagram on his cheek. He felt like he should know the man’s name, but a more attractive sight suddenly distracted him from his thoughts.

     It was an ordinary summer day in Georgia, but the criminal-minded man who had just entered the roadside restaurant was no ordinary person -- but then again, neither was Leonore. Leonore was a long-legged, busty beauty and a true southern belle. Her rich, dark hair hung wild and long like some untamed river of silken chocolate. The woman’s deep, green eyes were pale and emitted an ever-erotic look to them. Her soft face sported wide eyes and feint freckles about her golden cheeks. Just the sight of the feline woman made Rick Shane beckon to her.

     Rick walked in the smoldering, humid cafe and began to engage in some small talk.

     "Hey, nice place you got here," said Rick to the cook.

     "Well, I don't own the joint, but it's a rare spot indeed. Big chain, fast food places are making small spots like this a thing of the past. -- Heh, you could even say places like this just...disappear."

     "I know what you mean, buddy." Replied Rick as he trotted over to Leonore.

     "Howdy, lady -- Sure is hot today, huh?"

     Leonore didn’t answer; she just leaned playfully over the old time jukebox and nodded.

     "My name’s Rick, pleasure to meet you, miss." Replied the clever convict, trying to blend in with the laid back crowd in the steamy restaurant.

     To his surprise, the dark-haired beauty didn’t reply, she only smiled at him in a queer, but flirtatious manner.

     "Oh, don’t be rude, honey. I’m new around these parts and just lookin’ for some light company." Replied Rick as he stole a stare down the woman’s abundant cleavage.

     At this point, the cook standing behind the counter had leaned over and made an odd comment.

     "Hey, stranger, I’m sure Leonore appreciates your…interest, but she won’t talk to you none, she won’t ever talk to you."

     "What? …And why is that?"

     The old, black cook simply made a series of quick hand gestures to Leonore and the two of them let loose a hardy laugh. A second later, the other silent patrons of the diner joined in. Rick didn’t like being the object of their humor and he could feel his anger venting, it was the same kind of anger and bloodlust that led him to kill.

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