AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She didn’t want Tiberius here every night. It was hard enough seeing him only a little, but she wasn’t stupid. She needed him. Needed protection for herself and Josiah.
“You would be willing to do that?”
Tiberius stood. “Bexley, that’s my son in there. And I don’t want to see you hurt. So yeah, I’ll do it. And we need to tell Josiah enough to get it through his thick head that he needs to be more careful and stick to curfew.”
“Not to mention the possible hurricane coming. It’s growing. Have you seen the news?”
“It’s eating through the waters and targeting land. Targeting us and we can’t stop it. We have to find Ahnah, the other women, and who’s behind this before it makes landfall. Or... I don’t know what will happen.”
“My neighbors don’t think it’s going to hit us, and if it does, it won’t be that bad. We’ve braved hurricanes before. I know how to prepare. But yes. Yes, you can stay with us. Let me talk to Josiah about the danger and curfew, and the drinking. Are you sure you smelled alcohol on his breath?”
“I know that smell well. I’m sure.”
She rubbed her aching temples. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.”
He nodded. “I’ll bunk on the couch the rest of the night and call my SAC. Let him know.”
“I’ll get you pillows and a blanket.” She headed for Josiah’s room. “And thank you,” she said, pausing. “You don’t have to make things soft or easy.”
“No, I don’t.” He combed his hand through his hair. “And after this is all said and done and he’s caught, it won’t be soft. I won’t make it easy then. Truce while a killer is out there. Then things are gonna be real different.”
She feared that more than a hurricane threat and almost as much as a twisted killer.
Blue Harbor
SCU beach house
Sunday, September 2
8:12 a.m.
Ty stumbled into the beach house, massaging the crick in his neck from sleeping on the couch. Freshly brewed coffee wafted in the air and drew him straight to the pot.
“Bruh, you look rough,” Owen said, sipping a cup at the kitchen island.
“Yeah, well. I’m pushing forty. I can’t do late nights and couches anymore.” He poured a cup of coffee—black as a killer’s soul—and sipped. “Where is everyone? I know Fiona’s up and moving. No one else makes coffee this strong.”
Owen clicked and clacked on his laptop. “She’s up and in full form. Violet was outside on the deck talking to John and Stella.” He took another drink. “I wonder how long after she marries John she’ll resign. The travel is a lot. Stella’s almost five.”
Violet as a mom. “That kid doesn’t have a fighting chance. Ain’t gettin’ away with diddly-squat.” He closed his eyes, mimicking Violet’s procedure of slipping into a sicko’s head. “I would wait for Dad to go to bed and then slowly open the window, but earlier that day I’d have greased it so no one will hear it open or close. I can’t leave it open. Mosquitos and stuff.”
Owen snorted at Ty’s representation of Violet at work.
“Then,” Ty said, in whispery voice like Violet’s, “I leave the yard and push the car down the road. No lights. Can’t be seen. I want to meet him. I’ve been planning it. Covering my tracks and using a burner phone I learned all about from my detective dad.”
He opened his eyes, and his grin died a sudden death. Violet stood three feet in front of him, hands on her skinny hips and drilling a hole in him with her icy blue-green eyes. He gave her his best apologetic shrug while Owen covered his mouth, his shoulders shaking with his silent laughs.
“No, no. Go on,” Violet said.
“You wrecked my mojo.” He sipped his coffee instead.
“You have no mojo.” Her right eyebrow tweaked upward and she folded her arms over her chest. “You think the guy stalking Bexley’s place is your killer?”
“Asa filled us in this morning,” Owen said. “Otherwise, I’d be grilling you about why you didn’t come home last night.”
Ty rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Josiah said a picture of them and a blanket she made were missing. The picture and blanket after Ahnah was taken, and she can’t be certain when the memento box disappeared. Amy-Rose’s and Lily’s families weren’t sure if anything had been lifted. Amy-Rose hadn’t lived with her parents in a few years. It’s possible our guy toys with them before striking. Or he’s known to them and was taking things when he was there visiting. What do you think, Violet?”
“Let me close my eyes a minute and get a feel,” she said, dryly. Bumping him out of the way, she maneuvered to the coffeepot and poured a cup, her long dark hair hanging over one shoulder.
