Even though my father is dead and gone, his memory haunts virtually every moment of my life, whether I’m asleep or awake.
They called him the Butcher for what he did to women. Ironically enough, he was indeed a butcher by trade. When I became prominent in the press for standing by his side, I became the Butcher’s Daughter. I know, it sounds like some insane, cruel joke that life is playing on me.
I was thirteen when I found my dad hovering over my mother’s lifeless body with a cleaver in his hand. He swore he was innocent of her killing — and of the dozen other murders the prosecution linked to him. For eight years, I believed him, right up until the day that the state executed him. My belief that he was innocent was irrelevant and my father is now dead.
At twenty-one, I started over. I left Texas and moved to New England, changed my name, and enrolled in college, thinking I could leave the horrors of my childhood and adolescent years behind. No more “Butcher’s Daughter,” I was now Alicia Timbers.
But the past never stays buried. Someone has followed me here and picked up where The Butcher left off. Under the shadow of my father’s legacy, the body count on campus continues to rise, and this killer is determined not to let me go a second time…
“I was hooked from the very beginning”