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“Where?”
“The front door. It was propped up against it when I got home this morning.”
My grip on Scarlet tightened. “You didn’t call me?” I asked, jaw clenched tight as I thought about every possible thing that could’ve happened to her. “You’re just in the house alone with Bree?”
“The police came,” Scarlet said, trying to placate me. “They checked the house and took the book.”
“And you didn’t call me.”
“You needed to be where you were,” Scarlet said without remorse. “Clearly, if you found something.”
“No, something like the picture or this morning happens, I need to be here. I need to be with you.” Lifting my other hand, I cradled her neck and tilted her head back so I could study her face. All that strength and vulnerability and beauty. “Understand?”
She nodded. Her eyes searching mine as wonder and so many questions filled them.
“We’re going to talk,” I promised softly. “About yesterday, about today—all of it. But first, I need you to tell me if—”
“I’m not leaving,” she said over me, voice trembling with emotion and exasperation.
My head shook as I brushed my thumb over her jaw. “Need you to tell me if we can work through this—whatever happened.” Dropping my voice even lower, I assured her, “Never asking again if you’re leaving becausethat’ssomething I don’t survive.”
“Chase.” My name was a strained breath as she absorbed the weight of my statement. With a shaky nod, she said, “Anything. We can work through anything, I promise.”
I pressed my forehead to hers. Trying to swallow back the words that were gathered in my throat because this wasn’t the time or place to say them.
But when I slanted my head, they bled free. Falling from my lips just before my mouth brushed across hers. “I love you.”
One of her hands had been flat against my stomach. But at the claim, her fingers grasped at my shirt, pulling me closer as her body seemed to sway. Falling into me and the kiss as she whispered, “I loveyou.” Her voice twisting with joy and gratitude.
“I told you,” Bree muttered, slowly drawing my attention to her. My eyes narrowing in a way that warned her she should be anywhere else right then. But she just lifted the paper she’d been writing on and said, “Detectives. You’re the one who interrupted. Now, what’d you find?”
Scarlet just sighed as she rested her head against my shoulder, the sound all contentment and amusement and not matching her tone when she said, “Couldn’t have been worse than the sketchbook.”
“Wait, what was wrong with the sketchbook?” I asked, pulling away from her to look between her and Bree.
Scarlet’s conflicted gaze drifted to the island. “It’s all over there. I printed out the pictures I took of it before I called the cops.”
I turned, looking at where Brandon had clearly been studying them. When he met my stare, he lifted a hand toward the island. “No way it isn’t the same person as your notes.”
“What notes?” Scarlet and Bree asked at the same time.
“Found them in my drawer at work,” I said, words coming out slow and unsure as I headed over to stand beside Brandon so I could look at the printed-out pictures. “Almost as soon as I did, I remembered getting them. Or one of them, at least.”
Digging the notes from my pocket again, I held my hand out to Scarlet but kept my grip on them when she began taking them. Meeting her confused and worried stare, I explained, “I kept finding them on my windshield when I was at work. I always thought they were a prank Brian was playing on me. But I’m positive I found out before the accident that it wasn’t Brian.”
“Well, who was it?” Bree asked as she looked over Scarlet’s shoulder once I released my hold on them.
“I don’t know,” I said as I returned to the photos. “I knew before the accident. Not sure how I know that, but I do.”
“You can’t keep saying it wasn’t someone obsessed with you,” Brandon muttered. “On top of all the shit they were saying, it looks like they were—and still are—doing everything to put doubt in your mind for your relationship.”
“Freakingpsycho,” Bree hissed as she tossed some of the notes onto the kitchen table. “Who is this Litany chick anyway?”
“Litany?” Brandon asked in surprise, considering I hadn’t mentioned we thought it might be her.
But I just slowly looked to where Scarlet was carefully watching me, knowing from the weight pressing down on her that she knew something I didn’t. Had figured out something else.
With a dip of my head, I glanced at Brandon and murmured, “Had a feeling last week when she came into the kitchen. Like all that shit I’ve been worrying about has been because of her.”
