He heard the screech of brakes outside. The cops, back-up, finally at the scene. If he wanted to take out Cameron, this was the moment.
“Bennett…”
He stiffened at that voice. Not Ivy’s voice. A man’s voice, pain-filled.
He kept the gun on Cameron, but Bennett turned his head. There, at the top of the stairs, watching him with wide eyes—her eyes—was Hugh. A very bloody but still alive Hugh.
“You’re better…than he is,” Hugh said.
Bennett wondered just what all Hugh had heard. “I can’t let him come after her.” And he knew, he knew from his time at Violent Crimes that obsessions like Cameron’s wouldn’t just end with some therapy. The man was too fixated on her. Too lost in Ivy.
It had to end.
He could do it. Right then.
“Don’t.” And now, that was Ivy’s voice. His head whipped toward her. She’d rushed back inside, ahead of the cops. She stood just a few feet away. Her eyes were on him. Tears filled her beautiful gaze. “He’s done, Bennett. It’s over.”
Then she ran to him. She took the gun from him and Bennett—he wrapped his arms around her. He held her tight. Just felt her against him—warm and safe and alive.
The cops rushed in. The chief was with them, and the guy swore when he got a look at the scene. Yeah, Bennett was sure the place looked like a real blood bath.
It felt like one.
Bennett tightened his hold on Ivy. “Cameron Wilde…he’s a killer. Wounded, but not dead.” Unfortunately. Not yet. “And the man…on the stairs…that’s his accomplice. He’s dead.” He had to be. Bennett had made sure of that one.
“Get some ambulances in here, now,” Chief Quarrel ordered as he hurried forward. A whistle slipped from him. “Damn, boy, just what the hell happened here?”
Death.
Two cops in uniform bent over Cameron. “Jesus,” one muttered. “Are you sure he’s still alive?”
“Yes,” Bennett rasped, “be—”
Careful.
Cameron’s hand flew up from beneath his body. A knife was gripped in his fist. Small, bloody. He drove that knife into the cop’s side and lurched up.
Boom.
That bullet blasted into Cameron’s head.
Silence.
Then Cameron crumpled and the cops swarmed.
Ivy still had the gun aimed, but her head turned, and her gaze met Bennett’s. There was no regret in her dark stare. No shock. No horror.
Her breath slipped out on a little sigh. “He won’t come back again.”
No. Neither of them would.
“Sometimes,” Ivy said. “The killers don’t stop…they keep coming…”
Until death.
He buried his face in the curve of her neck. He inhaled her scent. He felt her. Ivy…
Safe. Alive.
The best miracle of his life.
Epilogue
There weren’t a lot of people at the cemetery. The news crews had already came and left. They’d gotten their thirty second video to show on TV that night.
Ivy stood away from the graves. Two graves, side by side. Her gaze lingered on those graves as she thought about the tragedy that had been caused by the men beneath that dirt.
Cameron Wilde and a man who had actually turned out to be Cameron’s cousin, Julian Abbott. Julian had been a New Orleans native. From what Bennett had learned, Julian had been in trouble with the law for years, but his wealthy family had smoothed over much of that drama.
And Cameron…
I never saw the truth. How could she have been so blind?
“Ivy.”
Her eyes closed and she shivered. Bennett said her name like no other. Softly, sensually, and, most importantly, with love.
His hands closed around her shoulders. “The cops in New Orleans finished searching Julian’s estate there. They found a diary that he’d been keeping. He and Cameron—shit, baby, there were more victims. Victims dating back—”
“Back to the day I made my ‘mistake’ with Cameron,” she said, pain twisting through her.
Bennett turned her in his arms. “You didn’t do a damn thing.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Cameron did it. He’s the one who started it all—Julian wrote that Cameron made the first kill. They were drinking in New Orleans. Cameron was at one of the parades over in the Big Easy with his cousin. They saw a woman who was perfect. Cameron slept with her, then he found a Mardi Gras mask at Julian’s place. He found that mask, put it on…”
And she’d died.
“After that…” Bennett exhaled. “Julian wrote that it became a game for them. All about power and the thrill. Sometimes, they’d hunt in Mobile. Sometimes in New Orleans. But Cameron tried to set up rules, and Julian didn’t like to follow orders. Hell, from what I can tell, he just liked to kill. So he chose different targets. He…hell, Ivy, he fits the pattern of a psychopath. The only person Julian seemed to care about was Cameron, only Cameron never told him why they were only supposed to kill brunettes. He never told him about you, not until the end.”
She shivered. “He…Julian lost control, didn’t he?”