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But as she walked past the front door, she caught a glimpse of the flower arrangement that had been left on her doorstep a few days earlier, the vase of red roses and baby’s breath that the tech from the security company had discovered and handed to her. She’d set the vase on the entry table, never paying much attention to it. Now she noticed the baby’s breath was missing and in its place, tucked between the red blooms, was a single black rose.
What!?!
The contents of her stomach curdled.
She noticed a card was sticking up between the rose’s thorny stems and her pulse quickened as she approached and pulled it from the bouquet.
It was decorated with a single black rose.
Her pulse began to thunder in her ears as she opened the deckle-edged paper and read the missive:
~Shout against her round about; she hath given her hand. Her foundations are fallen, her walls are thrown down; for it is the vengeance of the Lord. Take vengeance upon her; as she hath done, do unto her. Jeremiah 50:15~
Fear clenched her insides for a second, then her roiling stomach rumbled and she raced to the bathroom to heave over the edge of the sink. Tears burned her eyes as she lost the meager contents of her stomach and leaned heavily against the counter. She stared at her reflection in the mirror: ashen skin, her auburn hair a tangled mess, her eyes round with fear, her robe not only thin but muddy, her feet still bare and covered in dirt.
Not only had someone been in her house, but he had been here for the single, sick purpose of terrifying the living crap out of her.
And, unfortunately, he’d succeeded.
CHAPTER 14
Montoya had just pulled out of the station’s lot and was on his way to the crime lab, the place Jay McKnight had worked, when his cell buzzed. A quick look at the screen flashed Bentz’s name and number. He clicked on, but before he could answer, Bentz said, “I just got a call from Kristi. There’s been some kind of break-in at her house. I’m in the bayou checking with the locals to see if they’ve noticed any newcomers.” Montoya knew what that meant. Father John had once had his own place in the swamp, a lair where he hid out. Bentz continued, his voice stern. “I’m leaving now. On my way back, but I’m a good thirty—maybe forty minutes out. Either head to her place yourself or send someone.”
“Got it. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Good.” Bentz clicked off.
Montoya, behind the wheel of his Mustang, flipped on his lights, sped through two yellow lights, and was at Kristi Bentz’s home in under five minutes.
He banged on the door and she opened it just a crack.
“Oh. I was expecting my dad,” Kristi said as she finally opened the door. “I called him.”
“Yeah. He’ll be here ASAP.” Montoya checked his watch. “He knew I was closer, so he called me.” He offered her a smile, but she didn’t return it. In all truth, she looked like hell. Her hair was wet and she seemed too small for her T-shirt and jeans, almost shrunken in them. “Tell me about the break-in.”
“It really wasn’t a break-in. I left the door open,” she admitted, wincing as if the truth actually hurt her. “A mistake.” She swung the door open wider, stepped aside, and he nearly tripped over a short-haired dog with oversized ears and bright, inquisitive eyes. “It’s okay, Dave,” she said, patting his head. “He’s a teddy bear,” she admitted to Montoya. “And the reason I left the door open. Wide open, I’m afraid.”
“Maybe you should have gotten a guard dog.”
She glanced at him and looked away. “Can’t have a dog that’s ferocious. There are lots of little kids in the neighborhood.”
Since when had she paid any attention to her neighbors? As far as Montoya knew, Kristi was a bit of a loner, and because of her history, had been all about her privacy. “We can talk in the kitchen,” she said, and he heard the door shut and click into place behind him. “You want something?” she asked. “Coffee or—?”
“I’m good. Just tell me what happened and, yeah, you’ll have to repeat it when your dad gets here.”
“Yeah, I know.”
He took a seat at the island while she poured herself a glass of water.
She explained about adopting the dog, losing him, chasing after him into the park, the stranger having found him and then discovering that someone had been inside, leaving everything untouched other than the note and flower in an already delivered bouquet. “I opened the card, realized what happened, so I locked everything, cleaned up, and called.”
She handed him a card inside a clear plastic sandwich bag and he recognized the black rose, inked onto the same paper. Inside was a cryptic Bible verse, a different bit of scripture from the previous missives, but still about vengeance.
“Do you have any idea who would send this to you?” he asked, covering old territory.
“No.”
“No enemies?”
