The Locked Door

by Freida McFadden

police discovered the remains of twenty-five-year-old Mandy Johansson behind the locked door of Aaron Nierling’s basement workshop.

Nierling plea-bargained to escape the death penalty and is currently serving eighteen consecutive life sentences in a maximum-security penitentiary. His wife was also charged with accessory to murder, but she killed herself in prison, prior to standing trial.

He is a narcissist and a psychopath, who likely killed at least thirty women without a trace of remorse. He is insane. He is a monster. He is also my father.

Smart to scare off predators, I suppose.

Did she kill the rat? Also, interesting connection to it trying to be free but there’s no way to get out… just like all other victims

Dad always says that if you’re going to do something wrong, at least be smart enough not to let anybody see you do it.

I place my hand on the doorknob. I give it a good twist, but of course, it doesn’t open. The basement door is always locked.

The one who looks strangely familiar—that feeling I’ve met him before is even stronger this time.

Does she know who he is? Is he guilty/involved somehow?

“Don’t say sorry.” He shakes his head. “Back when I was married, that would be the time to say sorry. Now you should say congratulations, because I’m out.”

My father is an incredibly dangerous man, who has done unspeakable things. He has committed evil, terrible acts, without even the slightest twinge of remorse. He’s the sort of man you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley. Or the street. Or anywhere. And as they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“Honey, I’m home!” I call out. My voice echoes through the first floor. I’m grateful I didn’t buy one of those giant houses on the market, even if I could (just barely) afford it. Anything larger than this would be frightening at night. Not that I’m easily scared.

Smart

“You need to be careful around Brady,” she hisses at me. I blink at her. “Excuse me?” “He is dangerous.” She lowers her voice another notch. “I hear screams coming from upstairs at night. Women’s screams. Crying for help.”

Although unfortunately, my white coat has become wrinkled. Which is somewhat baffling considering it has just been hanging from the wall. Oh well.

“Go back to sleep, Nora. It’s too late right now. But soon our lessons will begin. I promise you.”

My mouth falls open as I see what’s inside the room. This is not an office. This is nothing even close to an office. Oh God. And before I can say a word, I feel the shadow of Brady’s presence behind me.

“Drop the act.” She glares at me and my stomach sinks into my shoes. “I know who you are, Nora Nierling.” At the sound of my name, I do the only thing I can do. I close the door to the examining room, so nobody else can hear us.

After all, if I’m hunting, I have to have a weapon.

I wonder what they would say if they knew about those two dead girls.

My father blinks his dark eyes at me. “It was you. You killed them.” He raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t you?”

William Bennett Jr. He’s thirty-five years old. Admitted from a multi-trauma the same night the blue Dodge collided with that tree. He’s in bed twelve in the surgical ICU.