Instead, they'd think he was a pretty honest, friendly guy.
So after a brief chat, the middle-aged man in the pickup truck warmly offered him a ride.
For Jamie, this was also a test of sorts.
If the FBI found out he'd escaped, they'd probably issue a warrant.
But the man seemed completely oblivious. He was too busy asking what kind of dog Peter was, remarking how obedient he looked—not like his own Labrador, who did nothing but eat.
Jamie relaxed slightly, feeling Lady Luck was still on his side.
After all these years and all the people he'd killed, he'd never been caught. In the beginning, Jamie had been terrified, constantly on edge.
He'd even started to hope the police would catch him, just to stop him from killing again.
But the police just couldn't catch him.
That's when Jamie's thinking shifted. 'God must condone my actions.'
'Those women deserved to die. I am meant to punish them, and I am under God's protection.'
'It must be the same now.'
