Page 54 of Secrets Beneath the Waves (Beach Read Thrillers #2)

CHAPTER

NINE

Her stomach clenched as Jules pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, which ticked her off. This guy was seriously starting to make her mad, turning her life upside down the way he had. Even so, she had promised Kelli she’d be careful, and she intended to keep that promise.

She might even keep her promise to Dante and consider staying somewhere else for a few days. A hotel, maybe, since she wouldn’t put anyone she knew in danger by leading the murderer to their door.

Jules grabbed her bag from the passenger seat before climbing out. She jumped when a dark, shadowy figure on the sidewalk moved.

Before she could cry out or grab her phone, the man lifted a hand. “Sorry, Jules. Didn’t mean to scare you. Just taking George for a quick stroll before bed.”

The tightness in her muscles eased. One hand pressed to her chest, she made her way down the driveway to talk to her neighbor from across the street and give his beautiful German Shepherd a pat on the head.

Scott was a nice guy, if a bit too interested in what everyone else on the block was up to.

“No problem, Scott. How’s Lisa feeling?”

“She’s much better. Over the worst of the cough, which is good, since it kept us both awake the last few nights.” He glanced up and down the street. “Speaking of which, where’s your friend tonight?”

The knots in her stomach twisted tighter. Had Scott seen the murderer lurking around her place? “My friend?”

“Yeah. Tall guy. Dark hair. Gray Mazda. We noticed he’s been parking in front of your house, although he doesn’t usually pull up until after midnight and he’s gone by five am or so. Not our business, of course, as long as you’re okay.”

A gray Mazda? The knots loosened. Not the killer then. Dante. What in the world was he doing parking in front of… No . The man had staked out her place every night since she’d seen that face in her window? No wonder he had shadows under his eyes. He had to have barely slept in days.

How was she supposed to feel about that? Would he return tonight? If he felt the need to as long as she was at home and the killer remained at large, she would have to seriously consider leaving until all of this was over, for Dante’s sake as much as her own.

Before she could make a firm decision, she needed to get to her computer.

She slid the key into the lock and turned it.

Pushing open the door, she listened a moment before stepping in.

Silence. Wouldn’t hurt to do a quick walk around like she had the other night, though.

After locking the door behind her—making a mental note to get a deadbolt or two to increase security around the place—she strode from room to room, checking every window as she went.

No sign of the man or any indication he had come here again.

Thankful there was no second story to worry about, Jules headed for the living room couch and her computer, still on the coffee table where she had left it.

She worked her way systematically through all the sites she wanted to ensure that psycho could never infiltrate.

Thankfully, she wasn’t on social media much, so it wasn’t all that painful to shut down her accounts.

She changed the passwords on her banking site and anything else personal or sensitive.

By the time she got to her email, she could barely keep her eyes open.

All those files that held carefully stored messages, bills, invoices, notices, income tax receipts.

She’d have to save the important ones before she changed her address and started over with a new account.

As soon as she got home from work tomorrow, she’d do that.

Speaking of which… Jules turned her wrist to check the time. One am. Her alarm would go off in five hours. Better try to get some sleep.

He doesn’t usually pull up until after midnight . Her neighbor Scott’s words drifted through Jules’ mind. Was there any chance Dante was parked out at the curb right now? Trying to get a little sleep in the uncomfortable front seat or maybe attempting to stay awake in case anyone showed up?

She had to check. It might not be the smartest move, going outside in the middle of the night. Still, if Dante was out there, Jules needed to convince him she was fine, and he should go home and get some sleep.

After tugging on her sneakers, she grabbed her jacket, slid it on, and then unlocked the door.

She stepped onto the porch and peered into the shadows.

Although the closest streetlamp was half a block away, Jules could make out the shape of a dark sports car parked at the curb.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Wrapping the jacket tighter around herself, she stalked to the street, rounded the rear of the car, and came up next to the driver’s side window.

Aware that she could very well be on full display for her neighbors right now, she rapped her knuckles against the glass.

Dante jerked as though he had actually fallen asleep at the wheel. Even in the dim light, she caught the sheepish look on his face when he rolled the window down. “Hi.”

He was still in his uniform, which meant he’d come here straight from work. “Don’t hi me. What are you doing here?”

“Neighborhood watch?”

She let out a pfft between her teeth.

Dante glanced across the street. “The guy across the street ratted me out, didn’t he?”

“He might have mentioned he’d seen your car parked here the past few nights. Do you have any idea what you are doing to my reputation?”

He winced. “I hadn’t thought about that. Sorry.”

Jules gripped the frame with both hands and leaned in closer. “Why are you doing this? I told you I could take care of myself.”

“I’m sure that woman in the alley felt the same way.”

When she flinched and let go of the frame, Dante rolled up the window and got out, closing the door lightly behind him.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. It’s just that, in my experience, people who are convinced they’ll be able to stand up against a sociopathic killer with no weapons or training or backup usually don’t come out of that confrontation okay. ”

Dante ran a hand over his head. “Look. The truth is, I feel responsible for everything you are going through.”

Jules blinked. “Why?”

“Because it was my fault you were in the alley that night. If I hadn’t decided to…” He exhaled. “Well, if I’d treated you better, you wouldn’t have felt compelled to go out there.”

Jules sighed. “You couldn’t have known what would happen. I don’t hold you responsible for that. This is all on that creep messing with my head. So, consider yourself off the hook. Go home and get some rest. I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “As much as I appreciate you saying that, I can’t. Not until you’re someplace safe or this guy is behind bars. Preferably both.”

“I’ll call the police.” Even she heard the irony in her weak threat, which didn’t improve her mood.

Dante lifted both hands, palms up. “Nothing they can do. I’m not on your property or threatening you in any way. I’m allowed to pull over to the side of a public street and sleep if I’m too tired to be driving.”

She stared at him, unsure whether to scream, stomp her foot, or laugh. Confusing, infuriating man. Which Dante was this?

After a moment, her shoulders slumped. “If you’re not leaving, then you need to come inside, get some sleep on my couch.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely not.”

He laughed. “Then I’ll agree before you change your mind.”

Resigned, Jules trudged back to the house, Dante trailing after her. What would the neighbors who, even at this late hour could certainly be watching, think about this development?

Jules straightened her shoulders. She knew and God knew—if he happened to be watching her with anything approaching the intense interest of her neighbors, which she doubted—that she wasn’t doing anything wrong.

After following her inside, Dante turned and locked the door. “You should get deadbolts.” He slid off his uniform jacket and slung it over the chair by the door.

“On my to-do list.”

“Good.”

“Feel free to use the bathroom. There are extra toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet. I’ll grab a blanket and pillow for you while you’re gone.”

He nodded and headed for the hallway. Jules opened the wooden chest at the back of the couch and tugged out a pillow and the pale-yellow quilt her grandmother had made for her when she turned sixteen.

She’d just finished with the makeshift bed when Dante returned.

Jules stepped back as he lowered himself onto the couch.

“This is great, thanks.” Leaning forward a little, he stuck his fingers beneath the cushion.

Jules narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for this.” A smirk crossed his face as he held up the small kitchen knife she’d hidden there the first time he had knocked on her door.

“Oh.” Heat flushed her cheeks. “I forgot about that.” She held out a hand, and Dante set the knife carefully on her palm. “How did you know it was there?”

“I looked through the stained-glass window on the door before knocking the morning I came over. I saw you sit up and stick the knife under the cushion.”

While looking completely disheveled, no doubt. Jules shook that off. Who cared what she looked like when she was around him? “It made me feel better.”

His lips twitched as he touched the tip of his finger lightly to her palm, next to the knife, before pulling away. “Not sure how much damage it would do, but okay.”

“Don’t give me any reason to find out.”

Dante chuckled. “Noted.”

Jules waved at the couch. “Get some sleep. You look exhausted.” She started for the hallway. Before she disappeared through the opening, she stopped and pointed a finger at him. “I expect coffee to be made when I get up. That was the deal.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Jules made her way to her bedroom and closed the door firmly behind her. No lock, but somehow she wasn’t too concerned. Despite what she had told him, Jules did trust Dante the cop. Hopefully that was who was here in her house with her and not Frat Boy .

Jules got ready for bed and slid under the blankets.

Although she drifted off quickly, she woke what felt like minutes later.

Holding her breath, she glanced toward the window.

Nothing but those slow-dancing branches moved behind the glass.

The red digital numbers next to the bed read four-forty-five.

Her mind was racing, and although she didn’t have to be up until six, she doubted she would be able to sleep again.

With a sigh, she grabbed the burner phone she’d set next to her bed the night before.

The text and email icons were both lit up, and she settled against the cushions and opened her texts. There were four of them—two each from Kelli and Brie, although Jules suspected they had conspired together to send them. She scanned the first one.

Kelli: Okay, look. We know that what is happening is creepy and dangerous and we’re extremely worried about you. Having said that, what was up between you and the gorgeous cop??? Yowza. The electricity.

Brie: Yeah. I thought you said he was awful. If you meant awful cute and awful brave and awful into you, then I agree.

Kelli: I retract my apology for setting the two of you up. You are perfect for each other, even if you can’t see it (yet).

Brie: I think so too. Also, you’re being careful, right? I don’t like the idea of you being at your house alone.

Jules managed a grin. Her friends knew how serious the situation was.

They also knew how to lighten her mood and alleviate her anxiety.

As much as she would prefer a knock-knock joke to them razzing her about Dante de Marco, she’d take any bit of levity she could get right now.

She would also immediately set her friends straight.

I’m thirty-four years old. I’m not looking for electricity. I’m looking for stability. Respectability. Maturity. None of which Dante de Marco can offer me. Besides, I need to be focused on the guy after me and not get distracted by the gorgeous cop. Not that I would.

She hit send and then lowered the phone to the blanket to stare up at the softly lit stucco ceiling.

Was any of that true? Well, she was thirty-four, so there was that.

Also, she did need to stay focused on what the psychopath might do next.

As for the rest, well, it would make her life a lot easier if it were.

The jolt that went through her when Dante looked at her in that intense way of his was decidedly inconvenient.

She might not be able to call images to her mind, but she had no trouble remembering feelings or sensations, as ill-advised or dangerous as they might be.

Speaking of dangerous… She lifted the phone again.

By the way, purely to set your minds at ease and not to encourage you in your foolishness in any way, I found out from a neighbor that the cop has been sleeping in his car in front of my house the last few nights.

He is now on my couch, but I plan to check into a hotel tomorrow, so don’t worry about me. Just take care of yourselves.

All right, enough of that. Jules exited her messages and hit the email icon indicating she had one waiting for her.

It had been sent an hour ago, and she clicked on the box to open it up.

From her mother. She frowned. That was strange.

Her sweet mother had suffered a mental breakdown years ago and been in and out of institutions ever since.

Now she was in a good mental hospital, and Jules visited her every few days.

Although she did email her mom occasionally, she couldn’t remember the last time her mother had sent her a message.

Especially not at three-forty-five in the morning.

After the first few words, Jules’ breaths tangled in her throat as badly as her legs had tangled in her sheets the night she spotted the face in her window. She sat up as she scanned the few lines again.

My dear Jules. I just wanted to let you know that the nicest man is here in my room visiting with me. He says he is a friend of yours and wants me to say hi to you. Love, Mom

Jules tossed back the covers and scrambled out of bed. She had to get to her mother. Now. If this visitor was who Jules thought he was, he was definitely not nice, and he was definitely not a friend.