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“She won’t,” Talia answers for me as I dreamily watch him make his exit. “Shit. I knew you had it bad for him, but hello.” She waves a hand across my face, and I snap out of the fog Pike put me in.

I blink. “Did that just happen?”

“If by that you mean my brother finally made his move. Yeah, Dels, that just happened.” She shakes her head. “Where the hell is Sally? I’m ready to order.”

I smile to myself. I have a date with Pike Harris.

Holy crap.

I stare at my hands in my lap and try not to flip out.

While on the inside I’m kicking my legs and screaming.

Chapter Four

“Do you have Love and Serial Killers?” Hope Forester questions.

“I think it was returned this morning. Just a sec.” I type the title in on the ancient computer. “I show two copies. One is still checked out and the second must still be in the return pile. I’ll grab that for you. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope.” She blows a bubble with her chewing gum.

“Right. be back in a jiffy.” Everyone in this town is obsessed with true crime. But I can’t exactly fault anyone for it, considering all the murders we’ve had over the years. Rockwell may seem like your average small town, but it harbors a lot of secrets. Working at the library I’ve been privy to quite a bit of information considering we house the newspaper archives, and at times, working here can get boring. It’s no secret that I’m a nerd. So, I like to read about our town’s extensive history during my downtime.

Living here should terrify me.

This town always seems to have active serial killers roaming it. Either they live here, were born here, or just traveling through. Every one of them have been caught though, except the current killers that are roaming our streets. Talia and I have been obsessed with finding out who they could be. Are they lovers, are they even aware of the other? Maybe they are trying to one up each other. Who knows? Though the murders don’t stick to just our town. Pretty certain if they did, the town wouldn’t have anyone left alive in it.

I shuffle to the back room where the nightly return bin sits. I’ve always hated it back here. It’s dark and kind of creepy. The wheels on my cart creak and squeak as I roll it through the room.

Bending over the bin, I grab everything and put it onto my cart, quickly finding the book Hope wants in the pile, and place it on the top. Once that’s done, I freeze. This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this, that someone is watching me. Chill bumps fan up and down my arms. The hairs on my forearms standing on end. It’s like someone just walked over my grave.

“Hello?” I call out quietly, then shake my head. “Come on D, you’re overreacting. Like always. Like a bad guy is going to reply.” I roll my eyes at myself and head back out front. I’m always creeping myself out. It’s silly. Talia would tease me if she knew that sometimes I get this weird inkling that someone is watching me. I smile at Hope and get the book she wants returned, then scan it again to check her out.

“See you next time.” I hand over the book, along with her library card, and she walks out of the library without saying a thing. Not even a thank you or a screw you. Rude, but whatever. Hope has always been a little odd. There are times I swear the girl hates me, but I don’t think I’ve ever even spoken to her before. Except, of course, when she comes in for a book and can’t find it on her own.

I turn around and start going through my returns cart, checking everything back into the library and placing it on the restock cart. As I get to the last book, a book written by a local from years ago, who covered the serial murders from about twenty years ago, a piece of paper falls out of it.

Unfolding it, my hands shake, and I want to run out of this building screaming. He’s mine. Okay, Delaney, stop it. It’s probably not meant for you. It was probably used as a bookmark or something. I give my head a shake and toss the note in the trash can. I doubt whoever checked out the book last meant to leave it behind. I find lots of odd bits that have been used for a bookmark. Gum wrappers, reward cards, pictures. People use the strangest stuff to mark their place.

I’ve never used to be so spooked about things like this. But I just can’t help it lately. Something strange has been going on and I don’t like this feeling. Of course, anything can be creepy if you think about it long enough. Like an empty library that you’re working in alone. On the evening shift.

There’s too many dark corners and places someone could hide. Especially in the storage room.

I shiver at the thought, then want to mentally slap myself.

I’m being stupid.

Getting myself all worked up for no reason.

Letting out a sigh, I shove the book onto the shelf and try to forget about the stupid note and serial killers for one night.

I go through the study rooms, making sure no books have been left out. Some days I worry that modern technology will take over and there will be no need for the library, and I’ll be out of a job. Plenty of people prefer to read on their tablets and phones, but being a small town, we are truly the last to get anything new and cool. There’s only one cell tower, so service outside of town isn’t the best. And getting home internet can be spotty at the best of times. Considering we are constantly under cloudy skies.

My cell phone doesn’t work in certain parts of the library even. I grab a few odd books from the rooms and return them to their rightful spots, noting that people like Hope Forester, whoever was reading these books, they too have true crime on the brain. It’s like I can’t escape all these creepy thoughts. What if the killer was here doing research on how to slay their next victim?

I shiver at the thought.

Back at the counter, I take out my phone to see if I have any notifications on any of my social media profiles. Though Talia is who I talk to the most, I enjoy seeing what people are up to. Especially the people I went to school with whom l don’t talk to as much as I used to, but like to keep up with what’s happening in their lives.