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She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not trying to sell you. I’m simply saying he could have progressed.”
“I wish you wouldn’t have said anything,” he muttered.
He didn’t need this looming over him, eating at his gut lining and forcing him to take stock in antacids.
Violet nonchalantly lifted a shoulder as she collected her badge, gun and purse. “If I were the Fire & Ice Killer, I’d bide my time, perfect my game, get more intricate and seek revenge on you. He’s already in your home state.”
A shudder ripped through him. “Don’t say stuff like that!”
Because she was rarely wrong. And if it was true, then these murders might be on his head for foolish jesting that some guy caught on a cell video. Yeah, Ty had been made out to be the hero and was hilarious, but the killer wouldn’t think it was funny. He’d feel emasculated, challenged and insulted on every level.
Ty waltzed from the office into the hallway and found the YouTube video since he didn’t have a TikTok app. He pressed Play. In the video, Ty sat next to Asa and Fiona at an outdoor café, fiddling with his straw and leaning back with his arm casually over the chair.
Dude, it’s not going to take us long to find this guy, Ty said. He’s an idiot. I’ve seen more intricate murders from twelve-year-olds using cats. And...he colored out of the lip lines. That’s kindergarten level. He laughed, and Asa smirked.
No one had known they’d been caught on camera, using humor to deflect the gravity of what they’d seen earlier that day. Not until the next morning when it was trending on TikTok and uploaded to YouTube.
No more bodies surfaced, and the case went ice cold.
But Violet thought otherwise. And she might be right. Maybe he was on fire again and just getting started.
Near Kipos Island, North Carolina
Friday, August 31
7:15 p.m.
The horizon was dipped in magenta, gold, turquoise and purple. The perfect backdrop to the evening as the Artist reclined in the boat at the dock near his island—Kipos Island, meaning garden. Every part of this evening was enchanting and planned down to the type of grapes and wine and cheese.
He gazed at Catherine. Exquisite, tall and lithe with virgin skin—his favorite canvas to work with. Not that he couldn’t work with marred flesh—he could and he had, but there was something special about skin that had been untouched. Unpainted.
Catherine was on her second glass of merlot and her eyes sparkled and glazed with desire. He’d met her when he’d been on a walking trail at Nags Head. She’d been with a friend. He’d noticed her and she had noticed him, but it wasn’t until the friend called her name that he recognized it was a flower, and then he’d expressed more interest.
“The sunset is perfection, don’t you think?” she asked through a dreamy sigh.
“It is.” He peered at the horizon, wishing for that kind of power—to create something the world would marvel over and post to their social media accounts, making him famous.
He would be famous. His work would be seen all over the world.
Patience was the key, and he’d perfected the virtue.
“You were right about the view from out here,” she said in her sweet soprano voice. “It’s truly breathtaking.”
Blue Harbor was nestled on the Croatan inlet that connected the Pamlico Sound with the Albemarle Sound, and from his island in the center of an archipelago, the scenery was magnificent.
“I didn’t even know there were houses out here,” she continued.
Ten miles south of Roanoke Island. He’d spent years hunting the perfect place for his garden. His masterpiece.
Patience. Patience. Patience.
That was the problem with most men. Impatience. They rushed and hurried and made messes. Life was about waiting. Right opportunities. Right moments. Perfect storms. That soured his mood. A storm was churning in the Caribbean, and while he anticipated storms, he wasn’t thrilled about one possibly hitting. But he wouldn’t rush things in a panic. He never panicked.
“Just mine. I like my privacy.”
Batting her lashes, she ran her index finger around the lip of the wineglass. “What do you like to do in the privacy of your own home and island?”
“Well, to be honest, whatever I want. It’s my island. My home. My...kingdom.” He winked, and her cheeks bloomed a lovely shade of crimson. “How’s the wine?”
