“When I picked up one of the pieces, I saw a shadow lurkin’ near your new house and knew it meant you harm. Today, when I was readin’ the cards, I saw that tall, dark figure again. It’s angry and full of blame. It’s gonna lash out. And soon. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her, even though I felt prickles of dread. Still, I’d already made a fool of myself once by hiding in Flora’s closet at the office. I wasn’t going to run and hide somewhere else now. I wished her a good night and then hung up, staring at the television screen without taking in the images. My mother’s mention of a tall, dark figure immediately made me think of Justyn, but Sean was out there, vigilantly searching for Justyn while most of the inhabitants of Dunston slept. I wanted to talk to him, to see if he’d heard anything about the co-op bust from one of his fellow officers, but I didn’t want to disturb him. Knowing he was on the hunt for a killer put my mind at ease. Suddenly exhausted, I turned off the TV and went to bed.
That night, my dreams were fractured and unsettled. Once again, I was huddled inside Flora’s closet. I heard several voices bouncing around her office, but in the illogical way of dreams, they belonged to people who didn’t work at Novel Idea. They included the reporter from the Dunston Herald who’d wanted to interview me after the Kirk Mason mix-up, a girl I’d known in grade school, and Big Ed from the Catcher in the Rye sandwich shop. Feeling unthreatened by this group, I opened the wardrobe door to find the carpet littered with thousands of shards of broken glass. I was about to gingerly step down from the closet in my bare feet when I saw a reflection in one of the jagged pieces. It was Justyn’s face. His dark eyes were filled with hatred, and his mouth was curled into a murderous sneer. Suddenly, his face was everywhere, glaring out at me from every shard.
I woke with a start. Instead of being scared, I was furious. I was not going to be haunted by this man. I was going to haunt him. In the half-light of the early morning, I believed that I knew exactly where to find the killer.
SHOWING UP AT Espresso Yourself well before my regular time, I was relieved to see that the coffee shop wasn’t busy yet. It usually drew a pretty good crowd on weekend mornings. I waved to Makayla from a relatively private café table in the corner and watched as she slid a tray of apple scones into the oven to bake and then walked around the counter to join me. She had a coffee cup in one hand and a newspaper in the other.
“Girl, you’re famous. It’s not quite the front page, but it’s mighty close.” Makayla tossed today’s edition of the Dunston Herald onto the table. Her face was etched with concern as she placed my latte next to the paper.
My eye was immediately drawn to a large photograph showing Sean and me. The caption read:
Officer Sean Griffiths and literary agent Lila Wilkins leaving the Novel Idea offices after a false alarm.
“Oh no,” I murmured, fearing what the article would say. It was a short piece and mostly rehashed the details of Melissa’s and Tilly’s deaths while adding several quotes from frightened residents of both Dunston and Inspiration Valley. Unfortunately, the intrepid reporter had interviewed Kirk Mason, who’d told him all about yesterday’s case of mistaken identity and my foolish deduction that he was the murderer. I sighed in dismay. Why would he have shared the story with the reporter? Did he hope it would gain him notoriety and therefore increase his chances of having a publisher buy his book? And couldn’t Jude have kept from going into such detail about the murder case with his new client? I’d have to have words with my coworker when I saw him next.
Makayla waited until I’d finished reading before putting her hand over mine. “I don’t like this, Lila. There’s your face and name in black and white for all the world to see. Now everybody knows where you work and it’d be a snap of the fingers to find out where you live. You gotta tell me—and don’t you dare go sugarcoating your answer—if there’s any chance this guy could come looking for you.”
Staring at the photo in the paper again, I recalled my mother’s warning about the tall, dark figure and weighed the possibility that Justyn would view me as a threat. We’d come face-to-face in an empty hallway during the book festival, and since then, it was likely that he’d seen me with both of his victims prior to their deaths. If he got hold of this article, he’d undoubtedly feel enraged that another woman was trying to manipulate the course of his future.
Meeting Makayla’s eyes, I said, “Yes, I believe he might come after me. I don’t think he spent all of his anger killing Melissa and Tilly. In my opinion, he’s released a darkness inside of himself that he can’t call back. It controls him now.”
Makayla raised her arms skyward. “Lord have mercy, why do you end up in the middle of such wicked plots? Can’t you and Sean just live in a nice, steamy romance novel and stay away from the true crime stories?”
“Rest assured,” I said with a calm determination that was only partially genuine, “I have a plan.”