After confessing to killing fourteen young men in La Crosse, Wisconsin, sultry serial killer Genevieve Wangen escapes custody for the second time. Aided by her Mafia contacts, she settles in at a remote cabin in the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana. Now, safely hidden behind her new identity as Samantha Walters, she happily continues her deadly work for the Carbones. But Detective Al Rouse and Deputy Charlie Berzinski are bent on locking her away for good. When they finally catch up to her, as she is about to wed her latest debonair lover, Genevieve finds that she must escape more than just the law!
Excerpt:
The April sun scratched its way up the back side of Mount Cleveland, in the Bitterroot Chain of western Montana, its promised
glow casting the proud
peak as an angelic being. At least that’s how it appeared from the rustic cabin in the woods inhabited by Genevieve Wangen, now known as Samantha Walters. This Thursday promised to be a busy day for the eighty-three-year-old, who looked not a day over 55.
She’d risen before dawn and now was bathing in the still-icy waters of the lake that she fondly referred to as “My Lake.”
Of course,
no one had seen the body of water since she had moved there, and therefore no one knew of the name she had given it. She hoped that wouldn’t change for a while, although once again
she longed
for company. While talking to either men or women fascinated her, it was the company
of men she missed most. She had now been without male companionship for more than sixteen months, since arriving here from New Orleans two and a half years earlier.
In her wake she had left a trail of bodies—many more attributed to her than were due—that had resulted in the posting of an old picture of her on post office walls from Bangor, Maine to San Ysidro, California, and from Baudette, Minnesota, to Brownsville, Texas.
Few were the people in the United States who had not seen a picture of the woman known in various places and at various times as the Wisconsin
Whacker, the Black Widow of the Woods, and the Murderess of the Mountains. Few also were the people who,
happening along on this cloudless day, would suspect a
relationship between that woman and the darkly-tanned woman in the lake,
softly singing to herself in the early morning light.
In fact, although no one in the Bitterroot Valley knew where she lived, many knew her by sight. She was a person who, in times of financial hardship, reached into her purse and found money for the unfortunate, although anonymously.
People in these parts, if they knew her at all, knew her simply as “Sam.” She had appeared on the scene without introduction but, before the first winter was out, had established herself as someone who belonged. And if people in these parts felt you belonged, then damned be those who would seek to take you away. Sam was known by a few business
associates from Polson to Finley Point, Bear Dance, Woods Bay, and Bigfork on the east side of Flathead Lake to Kings Point, Elmo, Dayton, and Somers on the west. But though those few people called her by name, bought her a drink whenever she was in town, and even took her to lunch, none knew where she lived. The best anyone would say, if pressed, was, “Somewhere in the hills, I guess.”
On this day, she hoped to end her temporary celibacy; the idea of having a man in her bed excited her as she soaked herself in the lake waters and dreamt about the pleasure of wrapping her legs around a real human being.
She planned to drive some forty miles, the first twelve of it on a rutted, private dirt road, to Kalispell, Montana, a community of 22,000 about 30 miles north of Flathead Lake that served as the “capitol” of the Flathead Valley. The community served as the retail, professional,
medical, and governmental center for the more than 140,000 people who inhabited the area.
In previous trips to Kalispell, Sam had cultivated a friendship with Molly O’Leary, general manager of the Golden Lion Hotel. On her last trip to the community, the two women had talked candidly about their likes and dislikes and the things they missed i n their adopted Montana homeland.
As one drink became two, and two became a half dozen or more,
and Sam decided to rent a
room and stay the night, she told Molly that her biggest need was male companionship.
“I’m sure that stuns you. There are some things you never get over, and I have always needed and wanted sex.” Taking another sip of her drink, she swallowed. “When I was married, my husband was a great lover. He developed my appetite for assignations and I’ve never lost it.”
Molly tapped a finger against her chin. “Sam, I’m not sure why you’ve brought up this subject with me. Perhaps
you
think you know something? If you do, all I can say is you shouldn’t.” Glancing around
the empty room,
she tugged her chair closer to Sam and leaned in. “As a bit of a side business to build my retirement nest egg, I do a little matchmaking. I
have always chosen my customers carefully, mostly to make sure they have tightly-controlled lips.” Her eyes narrowed as she leaned back and studied Sam. “Now I have
to wonder, which one of those people has
the kind of lips that they say sink ships? I am very bothered by this.”
Sam blinked. “Oh, my goodness, Molly, there is no reason for you to be worried. I haven’t talked to anyone. I had no idea that you might be doing a
little, how should I say this, moonlighting? I
was simply commenting on my situation, and I felt I knew you well
enough to tell you about the thing I
miss most.”
Molly contemplated her a few seconds more before her face broke into a wide smile. Grabbing a cocktail napkin from the table, she wiped sweat beads from her forehead. “Then have I got a deal for you. Come on, let’s take the bottle to my apartment where no one will overhear us.”
She led Sam to a
door directly over the check-in
desk on the second
floor
of the Golden
Lion. The spacious and comfortable apartment surprised
Sam, both for its size and for how tastefully it was decorated. There’s more to Molly than a hotel manager. A lot
more.
“This is lovely.” Sam waved a hand around the room. “If this was mine, I’d love to manage this hotel, no matter the pay. It’s big and it’s comfortable. If you did the decorating, I must commend you for a great touch.”
“For better or worse, I did it all. I was pleased to get the job and even happier when the owners told me to furnish the apartment to my liking, using their money. I spent it carefully, but this is what emerged. To me it’s home. And, Sam, the best part is they pay me very well for the work I do. I think I
may be one of the highest-paid residents of Kalispell—better than almost anyone but the docs.”
Sam grinned. “That’s impressive.”
“Yes, I do very well. And my
side business has begun to produce a handsome profit. I’m very careful to recruit quality clientele and to match them with people who are talented and committed to pleasing their customers in every way. You wouldn’t think that would be an easy thing out here in the middle of nowhere,
but the rugged individuals who come here to live seem to be skilled in the bedroom arts. You just never know, do you?”
“I guess not, but I
sure would like to have a night with one of your most skilled gentlemen. If you could set me up, I think you’ll have earned repeat business from a very needy customer.”
“I believe I have just the guy. A real stallion. And equipped like one, too. Sound good?”
“Perfect. What’s his name?”
“Pete Pernaska. He came here to join a timbering crew. He did that for a few years, but he’d wander in here now and again looking for women. I fixed him up a couple
of times and it wasn’t long
before the girls started asking for him. I wondered what made him so special, and decided to try him for myself. Wow! That’s the only description I have for it. I offered him a job. He took it, he’s busy, and he loves it. He quit his timbering job. If you’re not happy, I’ll be stunned.”
“I’m sure I will be. My life is close to perfect right now, and Mr. Pete Pernaska sounds like he just might be the last piece of puzzle
I’ve been missing.”
