Authors: Cynthia Eden
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Murder, #Serial Killers, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense, #Series
“The crazy SOB probably thought they were all personal,” Paul muttered. “Freaks like that always do.”
“First kills usually
are
personal.” Anthony’s voice was thick. “The first victim is often a trigger for many serials. Once they get the rush that comes from the kill, they get addicted. They want the power. The control. They want the release that they can only get from taking lives.”
All eyes were on him.
There was a grim certainty in his voice. Anthony had dealt with far too many monsters over the years.
“All signs are that Jenny was his first victim.” Anthony’s hold was strong and what she desperately needed then. “According to Cadence’s search, her disappearance dated back the longest. When we discover why Jenny was the trigger, then we understand our killer.”
“Sometimes you can’t understand crazy.” Paul was adamant as he stood near the autopsy table. “All you can do is put a bullet in the killer’s head and stop him before he can hurt anyone else.”
Lauren felt very cold. “He knew her, didn’t he?” That much rage…the loss of control…
“I think he did,” Anthony said. “I think he knew her very, very well.”
“People thought she ran away with a boyfriend. That was the story that circulated.” She rubbed her chilled arms. “Maybe she didn’t run away with him—”
“Maybe he killed her?” Anthony finished.
Lauren nodded. She was splintering apart on the inside. “The cops…they talked to all her friends. They said she wasn’t seeing anyone. She was always home. I didn’t think there was a guy.”
“He could have been her secret,” Paul murmured.
A secret that had killed her.
“I need to go back to my house,” Lauren said, her voice soft in the confines of the SUV.
Frowning, Anthony glanced over at her. She’d been too quiet after they’d talked to the ME. Too quiet. Too pale. Keeping too much in.
There were no more tears from her. Just a brittle mask.
“I didn’t think you wanted to go back there.” She’d told him that before, several times.
“There’s something I have to get. Please, take me there.”
If that was what she wanted, he’d do it. He’d take her anywhere.
He turned the SUV around, pushed the accelerator down, and cut across the dark road. Rain was falling lightly, beating against the windshield, and the wipers swiped across the glass.
They didn’t speak again, not until they were pulling into the drive that led to her house. The headlights cut across the area,
and Anthony saw the yellow line of police tape still blocking her door.
He shut off the engine and turned toward her. “Tell me what you need. I’ll go inside and get it.” There was no need for Lauren to walk into that house. Her mattress had been taken away. An evidence trail would still mark her bedroom. After finding her sister’s remains, he didn’t want her dealing with that, too.
“I should go in,” she whispered, her gaze on the house lit by the headlights. “I
should
—”
“Fuck what you
should
do,” Anthony snarled. “Just let me do this for you, okay? You don’t have to face down any more ghosts. You don’t have to do a damn thing but stay here and let me take care of this for you.”
She turned her head toward him. He couldn’t see her clearly in the dark so he reached out and trailed his fingers across her cheek, trying to feel her emotions.
Her cheek was wet with a teardrop. The brittle mask wasn’t holding.
“In my closet. In the bottom of my closet, there’s an old jewelry box. My cross is in there. The cross just like Jenny’s. It’s stupid, I know, but I want it. I have to have it.”
He brought his mouth to hers. Kissed her lightly. “It’s not stupid.” She was breaking his heart.
“It’s all I have left of my family. Everyone’s gone.” Her breath blew lightly over him as she gave a ragged sigh. “I knew she was dead, I told myself, for years…” Her head shook. “But when we found her body, it was real. It was finally real. Jenny won’t ever come home again. I’m alone. They’re all gone, and I’m—”
He curled his hand around her chin and forced her to stare into his eyes. “I will never let you be alone.”
“Your life isn’t here. Your job takes you all across the country, and we’re—I don’t even know what we are.”
He kissed her once more. Harder. Deeper. “I’ll tell you what we are. We’re just fucking starting, got me? You’re not alone, I won’t let you be alone. You have me.”
You always had me.
Even when he’d been gone. Miles away. She’d been in his head.
In the shell that passed for his heart.
There would be no more miles between them. No more pain for her. Everything was changing for him.
He reached for his weapon. Handed it to her and curled her fingers around it.
“What are you doing? Why are you giving me this?”
“The last time I left you outside alone, a fucking killer took you from me.”
Not happening again.
“You keep the doors locked. You keep that gun loaded. I’ll go into the house, I’ll get your cross, and I’ll be right back.” He just needed to get the house keys from her. He’d be in and out in a flash and—
“I’m going in with you.”
“Dammit,
why
?”
“Because I won’t hide from my own life, no matter how horrible it is.” She handed the gun back to him. “I can’t hide from it. I can’t. I can’t let what’s happened break me.”
“You don’t have to see what’s inside—” He stopped because those were the same words he’d given to her when they’d been back in the swamp.
But she had seen.
Lauren didn’t shy away from the darkness in life. She faced it, let it hurt her, but kept going.
He wanted to protect her, but Lauren wasn’t the type to let others fight her battles.
“Let’s go,” he told her instead of arguing any more.
She turned away from him. Reached for her door.
He climbed out slowly, holstering his weapon. Lauren’s nearest neighbors were at least an acre away, judging by the distance between their yards. The night air was hot and heavy as it pressed down on him.
His body tensed as his gaze swept the area. The houses down the street were dark. It was nearing eleven o’clock, and Lauren’s neighbors had obviously turned in.
The shadows around her home seemed to stretch and twist. He hurried to her side, his body on alert.
Lauren used her key to cut the yellow police tape. It fell away, fluttering toward the window on the right. Lauren’s fingers were shaking as she shoved the key into the lock. When the door opened, the dark cavern of the house awaited them.
Lauren didn’t cross the threshold.
I can get the necklace for you.
He locked his teeth to hold the words back. Lauren felt like this was something she had to do.
“It’s just a house,” she whispered and stepped into the darkness.
He followed right behind her.
Just a house.
One heavy with the memory of death and pain.
She’d gone back. He’d figured she would, sooner or later. After her sister’s remains had been found, he’d known Lauren wouldn’t be able to stay away from the house much longer.
She’d kept her own case files on Jenny over the years. Kept a memory box of her sister’s belongings. With today’s discovery, Lauren would want those items more than ever before. She’d had to go back.
So very predictable.
And the marshal was by her side. Where else would the man be?
They were the reason the investigation had continued. The reason the dead were being pulled from their sleep. If it hadn’t been for Lauren, Jenny would still be exactly where she belonged.
Pulling her from the ground had been a crime, and now he’d be sure to put Lauren
in
the ground.
Lauren. He’d always wanted to be close to her. Being close to Lauren, it was like being close to Jenny. They had the same eyes.
He hadn’t planned to kill Lauren. Not originally. It had been nice having her there. Seeing her—it always brought his best memories back. It had taken awhile to get close to Lauren, but he’d been patient.
Jon had been the one to want Lauren’s pain. Jon had been so angry, so determined to make her suffer.
After prison, he’d figured that Jon deserved to enjoy some vengeance. And the two of them killing Lauren—maybe it would have been as good as that first time.
Only Jon hadn’t gotten his payback. Lauren and her lover had killed him.
She’d taken Jon away. She’d dug up the past.
Ruined
Jenny.
Lauren had to die.
She should have paid more attention before she’d gone into the house. But Lauren had been so focused on what waited inside that she hadn’t noticed the threat all around her.
Pity.
He smiled.
She hated the darkness. Lauren’s fingers flew out and slapped against the light switch. The darkness vanished instantly, and she was staring at the familiar sight of her living room.
Her couch.
Her photos. Her TV and the stack of DVDs she kept handy for the nights she couldn’t sleep.
Her grandmother’s afghan was still tossed over the back of her couch. The home looked just as it had days before.
But the chill in the air was new. So very new. With the Baton Rouge summer blaring down on them, the cold should have been the last thing she felt.
Squaring her shoulders, she strode down her hallway, turning on every light she passed. She wanted the darkness gone.
By the time she reached her bedroom, her palms were sweating. The door was shut, and she hesitated.
Anthony didn’t speak. She knew he didn’t want her in there, but she had to do this.
She wouldn’t let fear control her.
Her fingers curled around the knob. She turned it and pushed open the door.
The lights had flooded on inside the house. He could see the shadows moving—the bodies of Lauren and the marshal—as they went down the hallway. He had to hurry.
It was a good thing he’d learned to be so quiet and careful over the years. One had to be careful when stalking precious prey.
He grabbed his weapon—not the weapon he would have preferred, but one that was going to have to work in this case—and slipped close to the house.
The front door was locked, but that didn’t matter.
He had his own key.