Page 78 of Obsession

Climbing to my feet, aware that the sunrise is not far off, I root through my backpack for a length of rope before bending down to retrieve the torso. I left enough stump at the shoulders to tie the body to the bridge railing, greeting the captain with a sight they won’t soon forget. With her gaping mouth and those wide, bloodshot eyes, she looks almost surprised.

Before I leave to retrieve my bag and the pieces of body parts left behind, I rearrange her hair so it frames her beautiful face perfectly. Not a strand is out of place.

My work here is complete.

34

SAVANNAH

Dressed in a gray trench coat and a wine-red scarf, Elliot looks almost sheepish when I open the front door. His curly blonde hair falls over his brow as he dips his chin. “James told me he’d spoken to you.”

I shut the door with too much force, annoyance flaring inside me for the hundredth time this morning. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Maybe I was also too intrigued by another murder to turn him down, but I refuse to admit that to Elliot. At least, I still have a job despite my angry outburst the other day. Accompanying Elliot to yet another crime scene beats writing a horoscope.

We walk to his car in silence. Elliot seems lost in his own thoughts, and I’m too distracted by the swaying fir trees behind the house, imagining Robbie watching me from the shadows.

This morning, I found a queen’s card next to the coffee pot with a note that read:Rule number nine: Keep your windows and doors locked. Don’t make me punish you.

Elliot looks over the car roof at me as I reach for the handle. “I guess we’ll have our own police escort, huh?”

My eyes follow his line of sight to the unmarked police car down the road. “If we’re lucky, they’re both asleep.”

Chuckling, Elliot pulls open the door and enters the car. I climb in too, reaching for the seatbelt.

Elliot’s citrusy cologne is everywhere, mixed with something else.

Something sharp.

Questions about my weekly column hover on the tip of my tongue as I peer at him sideways. I want to ask him about it, but I also don’t. The resentment I feel toward him is still too fresh.

When we’re on the road, Elliot shifts in his seat, chancing a look at me before checking his rearview mirror. “They’re tailing us.”

I shrug.

“Are you okay writing this article while I work on…”

The silence that settles is not of the comfortable kind. My shoulders touch my ears.

“I mean, if you don’t want to?—”

“Just leave it, Elliot. I’ll do it.”

He looks at me again, the heat of his gaze lingering on the side of my face. “Has he tried to contact you at all?”

I stiffen. “Why would he try to contact me?”

My attention is drawn to his big hands when he grips the steering wheel tight.

He points a single finger at his rearview mirror. “For that reason. The detectives on the case wouldn’t have you shadowed day and night if they didn’t think there’s a chance that he might.”

“They’re trying to keep me safe,” I argue.

“You believe that?” There’s humor in his voice.

Shifting in my seat, I face him. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Elliot. Are you hoping for something juicy to write in your weekly column?”

There it is—the elephant in the room.