Page 84 of Unhinged

Fear constricted her heart, and she sucked in a breath. She couldn’t allow that to happen again. How would she live with herself?

“Okay, okay. I’m on my way out the door. Where is it?” She dumped the coffee down the drain and started for the front door.

“I’m already on my way to your house. I’ll be there in just a minute. Get ready and I’ll tell you everything on the way.”

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she slipped her feet into the ballet flats sitting on the rug by the front door and tossed her phone into her purse before slinging it over her shoulder. Rain pelted the windows, and she quickly disengaged then reset the alarm before striding out of the house.

A small silver Toyota sped around the curve on her street just as she closed the door, and it slowed to a stop at the bottom of her driveway. The window rolled down, and Andrew waved to her from the driver’s side. She hurried toward him and slid into the passenger seat. She glanced around the interior of the sedan as she fastened her seat belt. “I didn’t recognize you in this. When did you get a new car?”

“I’ve had it for a while, I just don’t drive it much.” Andrew threw a quick glance her way before making a U-turn and speeding toward the allotment’s exit. “You got ready fast.”

“I was already dressed. I actually got a call from Luke just before you showed up.” She shook off the water clinging to her skin and pulled her phone out to check for any updates. “Apparently the alarm went off at the health center and he stopped by to check it out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t heard back yet.”

Andrew nodded absently and turned right out of the complex, heading toward the outskirts of town. She watched the trees fly past the window in a blur as the streetlights became fewer and farther between.

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course.”

She recoiled at his curt reply. He’d never lashed out at her before, never raised his voice. But underneath that carefully cultured tone, she detected a slight deviation—was that a faint change in dialect or accent she heard?

“Okay.” She nodded, unable to suppress the uneasy prickles spreading over her skin. She flipped the phone over in her hand and cast another surreptitious look at the screen. Still nothing. What was taking so long?

As if conjured by her thoughts, her phone rang and her heart jumped into her throat. She swiped her thumb over the screen and lifted it to her ear. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, but⁠—”

“Thank God.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m coming over right now. We need to talk.”

“I’m not home. I think Steve Iverson might be after another woman. Andrew got a call⁠—”

A muttered oath filtered through the line. “Is Andrew with you?”

She blinked at his hard tone. “Yes, we’re⁠—”

“It’s not Steve Iverson—it’s Andrew.”

What? Her head spun as she tried to process his words. “But⁠—”

“Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me. Don’t say anything, just listen, okay?”

“I—”

“Please.” The plea in his voice made her blood freeze in her veins. “Doc, it’s him. It’s been Andrew this whole time.”

No. That wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. She was dimly aware of Luke speaking, and she forced herself to focus.

“…the breaking and entering, the assault at your office. We found him on the cameras. Everything lines up.”

Her heart seized and every muscle went rigid, hyperaware of Andrew’s eyes on her as she spoke. “What about…?”

She could sense his hesitation, and he finally let out a resigned sigh. “Selah was his first.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she fought to control her breathing as she blinked them away. “I’m sorry, baby.”