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This is dumb. It’s not safe. I should just stay put. I don’t need to interfere. Ryan doesn’t need my help.
… but what if he does?
That question lit up like a Times Square billboard in my head. I had to go and see for myself. See that Ryan had it handled and that Billie was on his way to a jail cell. I pressed the Unlock button on the key, a bright red pickup truck clicking back at me. I hopped in the driver’s seat and pulled out, apologizing out loud to Ryan’s dad for borrowing his car. I sped down the driveway and skidded onto the road, not used to driving such a butch truck. I leaned over the wheel so I could see out the window a little better, narrowly avoiding a pothole that appeared to lead directly to hell. A mash-up of modern country songs rotated on the radio as the DJ cheerily announced a beach vacation as a contest prize for the tenth caller. How cute. People out there were worried about calling a random radio station to win the equivalent of a time-share on a seaweed-filled beach at the same time I was here racing to make sure my man wasn’t being tied up and flayed by a psycho stalker drag queen.
Everyone had different priorities, I guess.
Billie’s house was directly ahead. Ryan’s car remained parked in the garage—good sign. If something had happened, then he would have surely gotten rid of the car.
Right? Damn it, I wasn’t sure. Ryan was the detective, not me. I shouldn’t even be here. I was losing my mind. Should I turn back? Being here could end up making things worse… I should just make a U-turn. I could fear the worst all the time. Ride the wreck out. The metaphorical car would eventually stop spinning, and I’d see that everything was fine and dandy once the dust settled.
A twist in my gut stopped me from turning the car around. I’d just take a peek, check out what was happening from afar. That would ease my worries and give Ryan the space he needed to work. I noticed the gate leading to the back of Billie’s property swung open in the wind, which was odd since Billie almost had a religious zeal on closing and locking doors behind him. I parked the car on the street and took a deep breath, understanding how stupid this was but not giving a single fuck. Everything from my bones to the amethyst crystal I kept in my pocket was shouting at me to investigate.
I snuck around the car, trying to keep out of the open as best I could. My heart beat against my ribs like a prisoner begging to be set free. I wondered if it were possible to break your own rib with a racing heart?
I pushed the gate open, hinges creaking. The house appeared to be empty. Most of the curtains and blinds were open, so I could see that there wasn’t any activity in any of the main areas. The studio, on the other hand, had a bright light shining from behind thin white curtains. Two shadows were highlighted like the main actors on a stage play, starting the scene off before the curtains were raised and the audience was let in on the show. It didn’t seem like either of them was heated. Whatever they were discussing had a civil tone, both of them keeping a decent distance from the other. I knew immediately which figure belonged to who.
Okay. Okay. So things are going fine. I should leave, then. I saw everything I needed to.
Then another thought hit me, almost as scary as all of the other ones combined: what if it wasn’t Billie? What if we were chasing a dead end and the real stalker was still out there? Watching me… never letting me go…
I felt a pair of eyes pinned between my shoulders. I turned, seeing nothing but Artemis—Billie’s cat. She sauntered over to me and weaved between my legs. I took a few moments to pet her. She started to purr the second my fingers touched her chin, lying down and setting a trap by rolling onto her back.
“I don’t think so, slut.” I got up, deciding it was time for me to go. Ryan didn’t need my help. He had it all handled—of course he did. What was I even thinking? That I’d show up and find Billie mid-attack? If I had, then what would I have done? My forte was putting on makeup and dancing for a crowded room of drunk strangers waving dollar bills in my face.
The shadows changed. They weren’t standing apart anymore. One of them, the skinnier one, lunged for the bigger one, arm outstretched and the silhouette of a knife appearing in his hand. I sucked in a breath and felt like I’d been dropped into frigid Arctic waters. My heart stopped, blood froze, nerves misfired. I wanted to yell, but the sound got stuck in my throat.
