Page 37 of He Sees You

Jake's chest puffs out. "We had history together. Senior year. She was a junior." His smile is predatory nostalgia. "Smart girl. Too smart for her own good sometimes. Always writing in those notebooks, thinking she was better than everyone."

"Jake." Sterling's warning is mild. Too mild. He doesn't see what his deputy is.

"Just saying, she's filled out nice. City did her good." Jake's eyes glaze slightly, lost in memory or fantasy. "Remember that Halloween dance, Sheriff? She went as Sylvia Plath. Nobody got it except the English teacher. Spent the whole night sitting in the corner, writing and watching everyone like she was taking notes."

He was watching her. Even then.

I hate that.

Ihatethat he was watching her with his eyes, doing what I should’ve been doing.

"Is there something specific you're investigating?" I ask Sterling, ignoring his deputy entirely.

"Another body was found this morning."

This is news.

I haven't left any recently, which means either they found Roy faster than expected or there's another player. "Same pattern?"

Sterling's eyes narrow. "How do you know there's a pattern?"

"Small town. People talk."

"People also die," Jake adds, trying to sound threatening. "Especially women who fit a certain type. Dark hair, early thirties, independent."

Like Celeste.

He doesn't say it, but the implication hangs in the air like frozen breath.

"Then it's fortunate you're providing protection," I say mildly.

Jake steps forward. "You seem pretty unconcerned for someone whose property is covered in skulls."

"They'redeerskulls, Deputy. From legal hunts, all tagged and recorded with Fish and Wildlife. Would you like to see the permits?"

"What I'd like," Jake says, moving closer, "is to knowwhya man lives alone in the woods, playing violin at all hours, collecting bones."

"Jake," Sterling warns.

But Jake's on a roll now, trying to establish dominance. "See, I remember you from school. Always watching people. Always apart. And now women are dying and you're sniffing around the sheriff's daughter?—"

"That's enough." Sterling's voice cuts through Jake's posturing. "Mr. Lockwood, we're talking to everyone in the area. Routine investigation."

"Of course." I meet his tired eyes. "If there's any way I can help, please let me know. I imagine you want whoever's doing this caught before—" I pause delicately, "—before someone else gets hurt."

The threat in my courtesy is subtle enough that only Sterling catches it.

He studies me for a long moment, and I see him cataloging details—the scars on my hands, the way I stand—balanced, ready—the complete absence of fear despite being questioned about murders.

"Stay available," he finally says. "We might have more questions."

"I'm not going anywhere."

They get back in the cruiser, but Jake turns for one last look. "Nice place you got here. Very isolated. Anything could happen and no one would know."

"Yes," I agree. "It's perfect that way."

After they leave, I go inside and check my security system.