Page 31 of A Curse On Black Lake (Black Lake Gothic Cowboys #1)

Chapter twenty-four

Killian

The only reason I can justify any of this is because someone is after her.

It makes my stomach churn because whoever was watching her escalated, and if he …

I can’t even finish the thought. It’s somewhat alarming to me how angry I am about the situation, but my gut tells me I have to be there to prevent him from getting to her.

While I carry her bags into the house, my mind spins. Something doesn’t make sense, and I can’t put my finger on it.

If the Spirits say everything is tied together, I should believe them.

Eliana does, and her Grams said the same as well.

But what does that have to do with an old curse this town has forgotten about, and a dead woman on my property?

The only thing linking them is a random flower. It’s too coincidental.

It brings me back to Wyatt and what I saw last night. If Wyatt is the one doing this, it would make sense, but that theory falls apart with the flower. How would he know about the significance of it? Or maybe the killer, Wyatt, or someone else decided it was a good signature purely by coincidence.

The Zodiac killer liked to use cyphers because he liked the game.

He liked the chase. Ted Bundy didn’t leave a signature per se, but his method of killing women was a signature in and of itself.

This killer has a pattern based on the way he kills women, only he adds to it by leaving the flower.

I think the intention is what I need to consider.

But it still doesn’t answer what it has to do with me, let alone Eliana.

Then again, this could all be chance. If that’s the case, then this town really is cursed.

She follows me up the stairs with another bag to her room, and I open the door. It’s clean, maybe a smidge dusty. I would have cleaned it up if I had time but this was a last-minute decision. Plus, I don’t have visitors like my parents used to. Wyatt has hardly been here either. I’m usually alone.

“Here you go. Make it your own. I can help you move things around if you want. My dad’s desk is in the other room. I can move it in here if you need it to work.”

I set her bags at the foot of the bed on the floor.

“You don’t have to do that,” Eliana says as she looks around the room. It’s not big like modern houses are. The farmhouse was built over a hundred years ago. But it’s similar to the rooms in her house.

“This used to be my room before I moved out,” I tell her.

“Oh,” she says, looking around the room.

It’s painted white with a few little pictures hanging on the walls. The full-size bed is covered with a floral quilt. “My mom made that quilt years before she died,” I say, pointing to it.

“It’s pretty.”

Two small side tables sit on either side of the bed, and there’s no closet, so there’s a wardrobe tucked against the wall.

Everything sits on an old rug that covers most of the hardwood floors, and the room is connected to a Jack and Jill bathroom.

“And we won’t have to share a bathroom because I’m in the master with my own, down the hall. ”

“That’s nice,” she says nervously, while still looking around, as if she’s trying to avoid me.

“What do you think?” I ask, suddenly nervous that it’s not good enough for her.

“Thank you.”

“Good, good.” I take a breath and shove my hands in my pockets. “Now is probably not the time for this, but I figure you should know, particularly because of today. I did a stakeout on Wyatt last night. Since we both had that weird feeling, I thought it would be smart.”

“Did you see anything?” she asks, finally meeting my eyes.

I brush a hand through my hair. “Nope, he cooked dinner, watched TV, and then went to bed. I stayed there for a few hours after the lights went off and it was quiet. But that could mean anything.”

“You haven’t slept at all, have you?” she asks.

I shrug.

“If it’s him, I wanted to know because I’ve always felt like I’m a good judge of character, and I can’t fathom the possibility that my cousin, my blood, has been killing women for years, and I had no idea.

It’s too much for me to swallow.” It would make sense though, Wyatt would know how to get onto my land undetected and avoid law enforcement since he is law enforcement.

“So what does that mean then?” she asks.

“It either means he got lucky, and I didn’t catch him doing anything. Or it isn’t him.”

“What’s your gut telling you?” she asks.

I huff a laugh. “My gut is in knots at the moment.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Not your fault, darlin’.”

“You are though…” she trails off.

“Are what?”

“You’re a good judge of character. I mean, you like me.”

The corner of my mouth tips up. “Yeah, little witch, I do like you.”

She smiles shyly, and despite the circumstances, it makes me feel lighter. I like that she knows I like her.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you get settled in. Tomorrow I’ll hook up the trailer, and we’ll have to make a couple trips to get the animals.”

Eliana nods and sits on the edge of the bed. Her shoulders sink, and her face looks a little haggard. She’s hanging on by a thread. Everything is coming at her at once. I want to help, but I’m not sure how.

“I know this is a lot.”

She toys with her hair and sniffs, discreetly wiping her cheeks, as if I’m not watching her every move, and every breath she takes.

“I … um, I’ve never been away from home,” she says.

“Good thing we’re close,” I say, trying to encourage her.

“I have a bad feeling, Killian,” she rasps, and rubs her chest.

“What do you mean? Are the Spirits telling you something?” I ask her.

She licks her chapped lips and won’t look at me. My stomach drops, and I don’t know how this could get worse, but I know better. It can always get worse.

“I didn’t want to tell you, but maybe you should know,” she says.

I sit down next to her, our shoulders and thighs touching. “I want you to tell me everything, regardless of how you think I’ll respond to it. Your safety is at stake, and that means I need every detail.”

She gawks at me as if she’s surprised I care.

I care more about her than I would admit, but the way she makes my heart thrash in my chest, a constant picture of her rolls around in my mind even when she’s not around me.

I go to sleep thinking about her and wake up thinking about her.

It’s becoming an obsession I have no explanation for, and I haven’t bothered looking for one.

There is no doubt I care, and it’s not because I was raised to protect those who cannot protect themselves.

I care about her more than I’ve ever cared for another woman. It terrifies me.

Eliana shakes her head. “Never mind, it can wait,” she says.

I start to ask her to tell me, but I don’t want to push her harder than she’s already been pushed today. “Okay, well, I’m here if you need me,” I say, and close her bedroom door behind me.

I’m here if you need me. What the hell is that? I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. I’m usually a ‘tell me right now’ command it kind of guy. But with her, I’m starting to think I’m a dog on a leash and she’s the one holding it.

At least the alibi is believable.