“He’s gone.” The cop sounded miserable. “He must have left on foot.”
“Start searching the area. Maybe he just went out for a damn jog or something.” The cops from Fort Morgan had said they’d found Cameron jogging on the beach. “Look for him. Find him. Call in extra units.” Because he was afraid it wasn’t going to be something as simple as a run.
He was afraid…afraid that Cameron’s obsession with Ivy might have grown too much over the years. Grown so much that he started seeking out women with long, dark hair, just like hers. Women who were close to Ivy’s age.
Women he’d killed.
Because Ivy had rejected him?
“Find him,” Bennett ordered flatly. “Find. Him.”
Chapter Twelve
Ivy turned off the alarm at her house. She cast a nervous smile toward Detective Trout. She felt so bad having the guy trail her. He was a detective, for goodness sake. He probably wanted to be out, hitting the streets, looking for clues. Not playing guard duty. “Why don’t you relax in the den, Detective?” she offered. “I’m going to get my brother settled in upstairs.”
“You need some help?” the detective asked.
“No, but thank you.” She steered Hugh toward the stairs. “Feel free to grab a bite from the kitchen. Or if you want to run out and get something…I mean, I’m safe here. And I’m not alone.”
“She’s got me,” Hugh mumbled.
But the detective shook his head. “My orders were to stay close.” But his gaze slid toward the kitchen. “Though I could go for a sandwich.”
“Help yourself.” She flashed him a nervous smile, then turned back to her brother. He was wavering on his feet. They climbed the stairs together, then she turned to the right, heading for the guest room.
Her brother pretty much fell into the bed. He put his hand over his eyes. “I hope I dream about her,” he muttered. “Then maybe…maybe I can pretend she’s still with me.”
She pulled the covers over him.
“Love you, Ives…”
“And I love you.” She shut the blinds, darkening the room. She slipped back into the hallway and shut the door behind her. Ivy dug her phone out of her pocket. She should call Bennett and tell him that she’d gone back home. Maybe he could update her on the case. Tell her what was happening.
She put the phone to her ear.
***
Ivy was back. She’d finally returned home.
Only…
She wasn’t alone. He’d heard the voices. The footsteps.
Her brother. A cop.
Too many eyes. Too many distractions.
Did she think they’d keep her safe? They weren’t going to stop him. No one was going to stop him. Ivy was his key. No, his mirror. She saw beneath his mask.
He’d do anything for her.
Now he knew why she mattered so much. It was all clear to him.
He stood in her pantry, waiting. He’d been in that house for so long, just waiting for her to come back. A knife was gripped in his left hand, and he had his mask on.
Waiting…
Hugh had been so stupid to keep the security code for Ivy’s house on his phone. Such a dumb mistake. But then, Hugh wasn’t the brightest fellow. So blind. So easily misled.
He’d known she would be back to her home, sooner or later.
Footsteps padded closer to him. He’d left the pantry door cracked open, just a bit, and he saw the cop approaching. He backed up a bit, heading into the darkness of that pantry. The shadows.
Come and get me…
The pantry door opened.
A blond man stood there. Had to be the one Ivy had called “detective”. Behind his mask, the killer smiled. The cop wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at the bread on the nearby shelf. The guy strolled inside as if he owned the place.
You don’t.
The cop reached for the bread.
The killer gripped the weapon in his hand—and he stabbed the bastard with his knife.
The cop opened his mouth to scream. Can’t have that. Before that sound could escape, the killer clamped his left hand over the guy’s lips. He stabbed the cop again and again.
He stabbed him until the man’s body stopped twitching.
Until the detective just slid to the floor.
***
“Bennett? Hi…um, I’m home,” Ivy said when he answered her call. She paused near her bedroom door.
“Ivy.”
She liked the way he said her name. Liked the need and the— “Is the detective still with you?” Bennett demanded.
She smiled. “He’s downstairs. Don’t worry. I’m totally safe.” She strolled into her room. Gazed down at the street below. It was broad daylight, and the moss hanging from the oak tree at the end of her drive swayed lightly in the breeze. “Hugh is with me, too. Though he’s currently sleeping like—” The dead. She cleared her throat. “He’s sleeping.” She paced back toward the bedroom door. “Bennett, did you learn anything new? Did you—”
Her doorbell rang.
Ivy paused. She’d just looked out the window. There had been no cars in front of her house. She hadn’t seen anyone walking in the street.
“What’s wrong?” Bennett asked her.