Page 98 of Obsession

When I return home, the sky is shaded deep orange and pink. The sun is slowly slipping behind the house. A crow, perched on the letterbox, takes flight. Retrieving the box of body parts and exiting the vehicle, I round the Honda.

I’m crossing the street, when Chapman and Briem step out of a parked, unmarked police car farther up the road. “Miss Campbell.”

My steps slow, and dread turns the blood in my veins to ice. I adjust the box in my arms, acutely aware of its contents. “Detective Chapman.” I nod to his colleague. “Detective Briem.”

Detective Chapman flicks his eyes down to the parcel, and my heart flies to my throat, beating erratically. He offers me a polite smile. “We would like to have a word with you if you’re not busy.”

I resist the urge to gulp as I lead the way to the porch. “What brings you here? Did something happen?” Clutching the box of human remains to my chest, I unlock the door with my other hand. My fingers tremble. It takes me two attempts to insert thekey. A lock of hair tickles my lips as I inhale a shaky breath. I need to calm down.

Shouldering the door, careful not to drop the box, I emerge into the hallway, kicking off my snow-dusted boots before leading the detectives to the kitchen. The chairs scrape behind me on the floor as they take their seats. I place the box down carefully on the counter and inhale a steadying breath. My heart skitters inside my chest before I turn around and smile at Detective Chapman. “Would either of you like a drink?”

“Sit down, Miss Campbell. We have some information we would like to share with you.”

Worrying my bottom lip, I take a seat across from them. Briem watches me steadily, his eyes assessing me in a way that makes me feel as if ants are crawling over my skin. I try to listen to Chapman, but I’m too aware of the box on the counter, not to mention Mark’s severed head inside my freezer.

“Your father’s friend, David, has gone missing.”

When I stay silent, he interlaces his fingers on the kitchen table and flicks his eyes down to his thumbs as they press together to form a point. “Miss Campbell. I don’t think you understand the severity of the situation. Two of your father’s former friends have gone missing in the last week.” His gaze ensnares mine. “Two!”

“What has this got to do with me?”

Briem shifts, and though it’s a subtle shift, my heart stalls inside my chest. I flick my eyes to his, only to find them waiting for me. I get the distinct feeling Chapman and Briem are on to me or, at the very least, suspect something.

“They have another friend,” Chapman says, drawing my attention back to him. “Does the name Andy Frazer sound familiar?”

Wetting my chapped lips, I shake my head. “No, it doesn’t.”

Chapman stares at me for a beat, and my forehead breaks out into a cold sweat. “Andy is in jail for grooming young girls.”

The sound of a car driving past outside cuts through the tense silence, its headlights briefly lighting up the kitchen. Now that the sun has almost set, I should turn on the lights, but I don’t trust myself to stand up.

“I have a theory,” he continues, elbows on the table, knuckles dusted in dark hairs. “I think your father and his friends groomed you, and now I have a very unstable, very revengeful serial killer with an unhealthy obsession on my hands.” His eyes hold mine steadily, refusing to let me hide anymore.

I can feel my jaw clench before I break eye contact and grit out, “I want you to leave.”

Seconds tick by, but I don’t look in their direction again. My eyes sting with tears. How dare they come in here and drag up my past. How dare they ask that of me? I’ve left the past behind. It’s not up for discussion.

“Tell me, Savannah,” he says, briefly dropping the polite act. “How many more men from your past have to vanish before you talk to us? If you help us, we’ll be able to stop Robbie from killing more men.”

I glare at him. “More men? Who said my father’s friends are dead? Have you found their bodies?” Every nerve ending hums with anger as I scoot my chair back and stand up. “You’re speculating, Detective. Don’t come here and pretend you know anything about my childhood.”

“Your father and his friends never hurt you?”

“Get out!”

They stand up, too, exchanging glances before Briem excuses himself and walks out, leaving me alone with Chapman, who braces his hands on the kitchen table and leans in close. “As far as I can see, there’s only one thing connecting the disappearances, and that’s you.”

“Don’t you have a serial killer to catch? Oh”—I laugh bitterly—“make that two.”

Eyebrow raised, Chapman pushes off the kitchen table. “I can help you, Savannah, if you help me. The last thing you want is for a judge to think you encouraged Robbie to do your bidding. That could have very bad consequences for you.”

“Excuse me? My bidding? What are you saying, Detective? That I made him fall for me in the hopes that he would go on a killing spree? That I encouraged him to break out of jail?” I fold my arms over my chest, shifting on the spot, uncomfortable with how close to the truth he is. Robbieiskilling those men for me, but why? I never asked him to. How does he even know about my childhood and what my father’s friends put me through? There are so many questions I don’t have the answers to.

I never knew Robbie would go this far, but I’d lie if I said I was sorry about it. Some sick, vindictive part of me is happy they met their demise at the hands of a sadist like Robbie. I won’t lose sleep over it.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Chapman slides the chair back in. “But that’s what a jury might think.”

“I don’t care for your threats, Detective. Your assumptions and speculations are wrong.”