Page 52 of Last Seen

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Whoa whoa whoa. What?” Halley is dumbfounded.

“There were drops of your sister’s blood on both bodies. I’ve already told Brockton to have all the blood at the scene tested. And put into CODIS immediately.”

Good luck with that.

“So wait a sec. You’re telling me my sister murdered these women?”

“I didn’t say that. But the match is to your mother’s crime scene. Catriona’s blood was in the system, and CODIS popped a hit. There were several, in fact. Multistate hits.”

“Several murders? In addition to my mother’s? More than the three new ones that we know of?”

“Yes. It seems to be the signature of this killer. You know the limitations of the databases better than most. Without knowing what to look for, it’s hard to tie a bunch of extraneous cases together. Now that we have this, yes. The databases are talking.”

“How many murders?”

“I can’t say for sure. It’s still working, Halley.”

“Baird. How many so far?”

“Eighteen.”

Blood rushes to her head. Eighteen murders, and counting? Across multiple states?

“Run, Halley Bear. Run.”

“My God. All stabbed?”

“No. That’s the interesting part. Different CODs, different parts of the country. Different ages, different looks. There’s no clear victimology yet.”

“But my sister’s blood is at every scene. Baird. This is fucked up as hell. You can’t tell me that she’s not responsible.”

“It is fucked up, and now you can understand why I want you home, where I can keep an eye on you. I don’t know if it’s her or what, but you’re in real danger, Halley.”

The reality hits her, and she has to stiffen her spine simply to not collapse under the weight of it.

“I don’t think it matters where I am. A traveling serial killer tied to my sister, who might be my sister, has killed the last three people I spoke to about the case?

Whoever it is, they’re coming for me no matter where I am. ”

Noah is watching her with horror. She can almost hear his thoughts. Leave. Leave now and take this curse with you.

Baird Early is having none of it. “I’m not joking. I will come and get you myself right now.”

Four hours, and she can be free of this place. Her mind says, Don’t be an idiot. Let him come get you . Her heart is still mired in doubt. She is still tied here with inexorable forces.

Noah stands, sighing. “I’ll drive you home.” He takes the phone. “There’s no need for you to come here, Chief. I’ve got her back. I can bring her home.”

“No offense, son. But I don’t know you from Adam’s house cat.”

“No, you don’t. I’m Noah Brockton, my father is Miles Brockton, and Halley is a grown woman who can make her own decisions.”

She smiles at this. Nice to have someone not treating her like a child.

“Baird, I’m going to stay for the time being, at least until the sheriff clears me to leave. No sense causing more trouble, and he has all my things.”

“Halley, I disagree with that decision. It would kill your father if something happened to you.”

With that, he’s gone, and she feels the weight of his judgment deeply.

Staying here is like watching a tidal wave surge toward her, knowing it is too large and she will be knocked off her feet and dragged out to sea.

Leaving feels as monumentally scary. Alone, out on the road, anything can happen.

Even with escorts, if this killer wants her dead, he—she—is going to find a way.

Stay or go, she is screwed no matter what she does. And if there’s a chance of finding the truth?

The only course of action is to figure out who the stranger is, determine if he’s the killer, and confront this twisted fate she’s been given. Her world has turned as quickly as flipping over an hourglass, the sand drifting in another direction without recourse.

“This is a terrible situation,” Noah says. “No one knows exactly what to do. But get your things. I’ll take you back to Marchburg.”

“My car. My phone. My weapon. I have things here that I need. Running away without them just means I have to come back. I don’t know that running is the answer.”

“Then what do you propose otherwise?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

She plops down onto the couch. She is so tired. She won’t be able to stay awake much longer. The craziness of the past few days means she’s been running on adrenaline, but it, too, is fading in the face of basic biology. If she doesn’t sleep, she will collapse.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Tammy told me there was another woman who went missing. Before Cat. What do you know about that?”

He strokes his chin, and she can hear the rasp of his beard. It is short, hip scruff, the barest hint of hair, but defines his ridiculously handsome face.

“So, I wasn’t here then. But I did hear that a writer disappeared. It was years before your sister. There’s no way they’re related.”

“Of course there is. It’s a pattern. Don’t you see? Writers come to Brockville and never leave.”

“I’m kind of hoping you never leave.” He smiles.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He scooches closer. “You’re fierce. You’re gorgeous. You’re clearly smart. And you’re not taken.” He takes her hand, running a finger over where her rings used to be. “Why is that?”

“Another complicated, long story.”

“I have time.”

He is too close. He is too handsome. He is too much everything. She leans away, and he takes the hint and does the same.

“You were going to show me pictures of your family?” she asks.

“Yeah? Okay.” He opens his phone. Scrolls around for a few moments. Turns the screen her way. “Here’s my mom.”

The woman staring out from the screen is stunningly beautiful but fragile, delicate, a doe-eyed waif who doesn’t look sturdy enough to have birthed four strapping boys. She is haunted, possesses the sort of ethereal beauty that makes men want to protect and treasure. To own.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah, she really was. Cameron looks like her the most, I think.”

“You all look like your dad.”

“You think? He’d be happy to hear that.” He swipes around some more.

“Ah. Here we all are. I think I was about fourteen in this picture. Christmas. This was 1995, now that I think about it. We brought back gifts from Paris. My dad was annoyed, felt like everything was too commercial. He wanted everyone to be more connected to the earth. Natural was always better.”

She stares at the faces, searching for the one that matches the stranger. She can’t find him among the brothers.

Noah closes the phone. “What about you?” he asks.

“What?”

“Do you have pictures of your family?”

“Oh. Obviously not on me. But on my phone? No, not really. Mom died when I was six, well before we had all our pictures in our pockets. There’s one family portrait, but I think my dad destroyed pretty much anything else that reminded him of Nashville.”

The portrait, on the mantel, covered in a spray of blood.

He sets his phone on the table. “So you haven’t been back?”

“To Nashville? No.”

“Run, Halley Bear. Run.”

“Stay down. Don’t move. Make him think you’re dead.”

Two voices. Not one.

Two voices.

Blackness.

“Where did you go just now?”

She startles and is back in the cabin again.

She gets up and pours a glass of water. Drinks it down.

Stares out into the charming garden. This place feels so gentle, so warm.

She has brought death to their door. If she could just remember.

There is something in the memories that will break this case wide open; she can feel it.

She sits again. Despite the sunlight streaming into the room now, the tiny dust motes dancing in its light, darkness is tugging at her.

“My memories of my mother’s death are jumbled up.

Nothing is clear. I keep getting little flashes, but nothing concrete.

Like I’m pulled back in time and can’t escape, but I can’t see clearly now, either. It’s frustrating.”

“Being there might change that. We’re only four hours away.”

He’s not wrong. She could try Nashville. Talk to the police there again, see if any others who worked the case are alive and willing to talk.

“It’s a good idea, but I can’t make it four hours right now.” She drops her face into her hands. “I am exhausted. This week, these past few days, it’s too much. I haven’t slept. I have to sleep. Can you stay?”

“Of course. Go lie down. I’ll be here.”

“The restaurant?”

“Will be fine without me for a while.” He pulls her to her feet. “Seriously. Go on. I will stand guard, happily, until you send me away.”

She stares into his eyes. He is so different from Theo. Gentler. Kinder. She reaches a hand to his cheek, and he inhales, shocked, but doesn’t move away. His skin is soft. Impulsively, she rises on her toes and touches her lips to his.

“Thank you.”

She turns for the bedroom, but he catches her hand. “Why did you do that?”

“What?”

“Kiss me.” There is something rising between them, she can feel it, and she tries to push it away by pulling her hand from his.

The connection is maintained. They don’t need to be touching to have this magnetic pull toward one another.

She felt it from their first meeting. And by the reaction he’s having right now, he did, too.

“I’m tired. I’m scared. I—”

“Come here.” His arms go around her; his face bends to hers. His breath is warm. She has not been touched, been desired, in so long. A completely different kind of wave moves through her. One of desertion and fear. Of desperate longing.

His lips claim hers, and the wave crashes over her head.

What are you doing, Halley? What the hell are you doing?

Her hands go to Noah’s broad chest. He deepens the kiss. She pulls away, putting some space between them.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. This is ... too much. Too soon.”

Noah is breathing heavily. He hesitates—a fraction of a moment when Halley wonders if he’s going to stop. Does she really want him to? What if he refuses? What if ... Then he steps backward. She retreats a few feet away.

“Right. Sorry. Got carried away.”