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“You watched himkillDeedee?” I snarled, forgetting whom I was talking to: a crazy person.
“You are wondering why I did not save her.”
Hell yes.I nodded.
“I was there for you. No one else.”
I looked down at the floor, rage building in my chest.
Suddenly, I heard a car rolling up just outside my door—the deputy must’ve pushed open the front gate.
“They are here, Masie. So now you must answer one final question before I go.”
“What?” I asked.
“Do you trust me?”
No. Absolutely not. Not in a million years.“You saved me last night. You haven’t laid a finger on me, and such a powerful vampire like yourself could’ve ended me minutes ago.”
He nodded his approval. “Be sure to tell the authorities that there was no one here. You were merely frightened after being attacked last night, and you heard a noise—a raccoon trying to get in. And when they come again tomorrow to question you, you will say you remember nothing about your attack.”
How did he know the police might come by tomorrow? He must’ve been outside listening when Jimmie dropped me off.
Wait.No, that didn’t make any sense. He had already been inside when I came in.
The man headed toward the open window. “Your shotgun is under the couch. I will be in contact soon.”
“You promised you wouldn’t come back.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “IsaidI would notbotheryou. I mentioned nothing aboutenjoyingeach other’s company.” He disappeared out the window into the night.
My entire body turned ice cold.Oh God. Oh God. He thought I was his special someone, a someone I would welcome into my life.
What was I going to do? Whatever the answer, I had to think carefully. If I told anyone what I’d witnessed last night, I’d be locked up in the crazy-coop. But if I did nothing, this man would be back like a bad summer heat rash.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two weeks went by, and I still hadn’t heard from the man with the gravelly voice. I should’ve been tickled pink, but instead the situation felt like a tornado warning. Danger was lurking nearby, threatening to rip the roof off my quiet life any second.
I honestly didn’t know which I dreaded more: the terrifying anticipation of seeing him again, or knowing that when I did, he believed he was a vampire and I was his second chance at love.
Also, for the record, being a bloodsucking creature wasn’t the only explanation that fit, like he’d claimed.
For example, when he attacked Tall Guy—whom I’d recently learned was one Ronnie Foreman, the son of a city councilman in Nashville—I’d been in a pretty sorry state. But I also knew what I saw: blood everywhere. And, yes, it had all been cleaned up by the time Uncle Jimmie found me.
However, by my own calculations, I’d been unconscious for over five hours, so he’d had time to clean up. As for my clothes, and as repulsive as the idea was, he could’ve removed them to wash, which would explain how he knew it was my shark week.
Yes, that scenario sounded improbable—I mean, where did he find a washer and dryer at two a.m.?—but itwaspossible. Especially if he’d had help.
Of course, that didn’t answer a bigger question: Why go through all that fuss to hide Ronnie’s death?
Ronnie had assaulted me, killed Deedee, and then tried to choke the life out of me. Most people would’ve stuck around to tell the cops why they killed a man trying to strangle a waitress.
Unless they’re a fugitive.
IfIwanted to hide a murder, I’d clean up the scene and make it look like the perpetrator had left. That was exactly what the gravelly-voiced man had done.
Then we had the incident involving Betsy. The man had taken away my shotgun in the blink of an eye. How? A sleight of hand, like those fancy Vegas magicians.
