Officer East headed briskly toward the driver’s side of the vehicle. Bennett stepped into his path. “Keep her safe.”
Bennett’s guts were twisted over this case, mostly because…hell, when he’d looked down at that woman’s body in the abandoned building, when he’d seen her pale skin and that mass of dark hair, he’d realized—
She looks like Ivy.
Same hair color. Same build. An unease had settled heavily around his shoulders.
Officer East nodded and slipped into his car. Bennett watched that patrol car vanish, and he couldn’t help but remember another time when Ivy had been taken from him.
Years ago. Another car, another place.
That had been the day he broke Ivy DuLane’s heart.
Stay with me, Bennett. I love you.
Her words had haunted him for years. And finally, those words…they’d brought him back home.
But now that he’d finally talked to her again, finally stared into her eyes, he wondered if he’d just followed that dream far too late.
***
Ivy didn’t live far from the murder scene—and maybe that should have made her nervous. If the killer had learned her name, then getting her address would be child’s play. And he could easily access my home.
“Ma’am?” Officer East turned to stare at her. “You want me to come inside with you?”
She glanced at the house. Far too big and rambling. Far too many spaces in there that would make perfect hiding spots. “You’re damn right I want you in there.” She’d inherited the house when her grandfather died. Part of the place had been renovated and was completely livable—the other part? Not so much.
Ivy remained in the foyer while the cop searched her house. She pulled her coat closer—Bennett’s coat. She’d forgotten to give it to him before she left the scene, but he’d said that he would see her the next day, so she could always return it to him then. She’d return it and grill him about the case. Because if that guy thought she was just walking away from this situation, he needed to think again.
“Clear.”
The cop’s voice made her jump. He’d done one very fast sweep of the house and the guy stood near her door now, looking eager to leave.
“Thank you,” Ivy told him.
Officer East just nodded, and a few moments later, he was gone. She locked the door behind him, then hesitated, hating that heavy silence around her. Normally, she actually liked the quiet. It let her think. But right then…
A glittering gown soaked with blood. A woman on the floor, blood around her.
Ivy hadn’t been able to do a thing to save the other woman.
She turned away from the door, walked through the foyer, and headed for the stairs. Bennett had told her to set her alarm, but she didn’t actually have one of those in the house. Not yet. She’d be making an alarm system an immediate priority, though.
She’d only taken a few steps up the stairs when her doorbell rang. The long, loud peal echoed around her. Frowning, her gaze cut back to the door. Had the cop forgot something? She hurried back to the entrance and her fingers fumbled as she unlocked it. Then she hesitated. Surely…if the killer had tracked her down…he wouldn’t just ring the doorbell…would he?
Someone pounded on the door. “Come on, Ivy, open up.”
Relief had her shoulders sagging. She knew that voice. It was her friend, Cameron Wilde. She finished unlocking the door and she swung it open—
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood on her porch. A well-cut tux covered his body and a white Mardi Gras mask hid his face.
“Hello, Ivy,” Cameron said from behind his mask. The sight of that mask chilled her. “Are you ready for a night you won’t forget?”
Her porch light glared down on them as she backed up, her heart racing.
Chapter Two
Ivy grabbed the door and tried to shove it closed, but his fingers curled around the wood.
“Uh, Ivy?” he said. “If you don’t want to go to the ball, that’s—”
The ball? Ivy let go of the door and grabbed his mask.
Cameron Wilde blinked at her. Even under the harsh light, he was perfectly handsome. Perfectly styled. His blond hair swept back from his high forehead, giving him an even more polished look.
“I thought you were changing out of that outfit,” he said as his gaze slid over her body. “But if you want to go straight to the ball in—”
“Your Mardi Gras ball is tonight.”
“Right.” His brows climbed. “That’s why we had a date, remember?” Now he sounded annoyed. “That would be why I did that whole ‘night you won’t forget’ bit before.”
She stared down at the white mask she now gripped in her hands. It was exactly like the mask that the killer had worn. And Cameron—he was about the right height. His shoulders were broad and strong.
With the mask on, and with him wearing that tux…Cameron looked just like the killer.
Only Cameron wasn’t a killer. She’d known him since she was six years old. They’d been lovers just once—one desperate night—and friends for so long that she could barely remember her days without him.