Page 14

“You’re my backup. We’ve got this, Skye. Don’t back out now.”

“I’m not. I just—” She wanted to drop their risky plan because she didn’t know who might get hurt. She wanted to stop him but wasn’t sure this was going to work. “He’s escalating. He’s becoming violent. We need to be extra careful. I don’t want you hurt.”

“I can protect myself. I want to do this, Skye.”

Skye could see all the ways this could go wrong, and only one way they might catch him.

“Okay. I have to stay out of sight, because he knows I’ve been watching him. I’ll be close by. And keep me updated every ten minutes, not just when you go to a different bar, okay?”

“Roger that.”

XI.

There were two petite brunettes that Trent had been tracking.

One was very, very naughty. They would both be punished.

It was late; Natalie was sleeping soundly. She wouldn’t wake until dawn, thanks to the sleeping pills he put into her wine every night he needed to go out alone.

He had to be more cautious now. Dating the governor’s daughter, even though they were avoiding social media as much as possible, was a risk. Someone might recognize him.

An exciting risk, but still a risk.

He went to a club off I-5 instead of his regular haunts. He dressed down, added a little shadow under his eyes, just enough of a change so he might not be easily recognized. The bar was on the dive side of respectable, but clean. Saturday was busy, which was good. He didn’t drive his Land Rover. The fool cop hadn’t learned he had access to a second vehicle, one in his grandmother’s name. She couldn’t drive, and he borrowed her car whenever he needed it, a nondescript sedan parked in the carport of her senior living community a five-minute bike ride from Natalie’s house.

The girl he’d been watching was perfect. Five feet four. Long, silky, dark hair that shimmered in the light. Skinny waist, wide hips. He knew her haunts, knew her routine, knew she always left alone.

Trent didn’t approach her. No, he couldn’t risk being seen talking to her. He sat at the bar, watched through the cracked mirror, nursing his gin and tonic. She talked to a lot of men but didn’t leave with them.

Tonight, she would be his.

XII.

Skye sat outside the third bar Maggie had gone to that night. She’d lied to Mac, which made her feel like shit. She’d told him she was going out with Maggie. Okay, not exactly a lie, but she didn’t tell him what they were doing.

She had a feeling he knew what they were up to, but didn’t ask any questions. Which was okay for now. But they’d have to address it later. She had been slowly falling in love with Mac over the last year, and she didn’t want him to walk out because she was dishonest. If he asked, she would tell him the truth.

She kind of hoped he didn’t ask.

It was nearly one in the morning, and this was the last bar on their list. So far, Skye hadn’t seen the Land Rover or Natalie’s 4Runner. She’d never spotted his Land Rover on any of the security footage she’d scoured near any of the attack sites. He could be walking in. Running—he was clearly in good shape—or maybe he had access to another vehicle. Maybe she should talk to Natalie’s neighbors. His neighbors. Not your case, she reminded herself. But she would suggest the idea to Brian.

Maggie had been good about texting her every ten to fifteen minutes. Her phone buzzed, and she thought it was another text.

It was Brian calling her.

At 12:50 in the morning.

This couldn’t be good.

“Hey,” she answered, trying to sound light. “What’s up?”

“We have another victim.”

Skye glanced at the door of the club. She didn’t see Maggie. Had she missed Calderon? Had Maggie walked out and Skye hadn’t seen her?

“When? Where?”

“Tonight, between eleven and eleven thirty. A couple found her when they were walking to their car after going to the movies.”