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“It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Ash said. “But other than the knives, it was nothing like the scene in your book. We saved Lucy, then Veronica and Rebel got the better of him, and it pissed him off. He lost control.”
Veronica’s gaze ping-ponged back and forth between them. “Wait. What do you mean it wasn’t like the scene in his book? Why the hell would it be like the book?”
Ash sat back in his seat. “Jesus, Davis. You haven’t told her?”
Connelly winced.
Ash sighed heavily and met Veronica’s gaze over the table. “This killer—the guy you and Rebel scared off yesterday—is obsessed with his books.”
“So that’s why the deputies were sitting in front of my house?” she asked.
“Yes. Given that the heroine of the book is loosely based on you, we thought it best to provide protection.”
Connelly turned toward her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was afraid it would trigger your anxiety.”
She sat back in her chair, her eyes wide and staring as though seeing him for the first time. “So this guy... the guy from yesterday... he’s... he’s a fan?”
“It appears that way,” Ash answered. “We have people going through every fan letter, email, and social media DM that Connelly’s ever received. We’re also looking into the former girlfriend, Sara Parker.”
“Girlfriend?” Veronica echoed faintly.
Connelly reached out to touch her hand, but she pulled away, wrapping her arms around herself.
He let his hand fall back onto his lap. “She wasn’t a girlfriend. She was a mistake. An obsessed reader I stupidly slept with—one time—before I realized how absolutely crazy she was.”
“We haven’t found her,” Ash said. “Seattle police say she left the city, and a traffic cam caught her three weeks ago at a rest stop off I-5 in Oregon, headed south.”
“You think she’s here?” Connelly asked.
“I do, yes.”
“And you still think she’s involved?”
Veronica shook her head. “The intruder at Connelly’s was definitely a man.”
“We’re not ruling out any possibilities until we find her,” Ash said evenly. “And anything you remember about the man from yesterday can help.” He pulled a notebook from his pocket and flipped open the battered green leather cover. “So, can you walk me through the whole thing, starting from when you got to the house?”
Veronica’s hands clenched around her mug, all the color draining from her face. Connelly watched the changing emotions in her eyes— fear, shock, anger. She sucked in a shaky breath and blew it out slowly.
“Okay,” she said finally, her voice a bare whisper. “Okay. I hadn’t seen Conn yet that day, and I was worried, so I walked over…”
Connelly listened as she recounted every detail, from how she’d noticed the front door was unlocked to how the man had attacked her and Rebel had intervened. His heart raced with each graphic detail, a knot of guilt and worry twisting in his gut.
She could’ve ended up in the hospital, fighting for her life like Lucy Harper. Or worse, dead like May-Lynn Tapia and the unnamed victim from last night.
His books were meant to thrill and entertain, not inspire real-life horrors. He had never imagined that someone would take his words this far.
Occasionally, Ash interrupted with questions, which Veronica answered as best as she could. When he asked her to describe the man, she shook her head.
“It was dark in the hallway, and he was backlit by the window in Connelly’s bedroom. I mostly just saw his silhouette. But—” She stopped. “He was young. Maybe mid-to-late twenties. I think he had dark hair... but maybe that was just a hat. The hair on his arms was light, so it was probably a hat. I’m just not sure.”
“Did you notice any identifying marks?” Ash asked. “Tattoos? Scars? Birthmarks?”
“No, I—” She stopped again, considered. “Actually, when Rebel bit him, she ripped his shirt, and I think I saw a mark low on his stomach.” She motioned to her pelvis. “Or maybe on his hip? It was just a split-second glimpse, but it looked big. Like one of those red birthmarks babies sometimes have… what do you call them?”
“Port wine stain?” Connelly suggested.
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. But I’m not even sure if that’s what I saw. It could’ve just been blood.”
