Page 31 of The First Hunt (The Final Hunt)

HOLLY

“ I just wanted to check in and make sure you were doing okay after everything,” Laurie said.

“I’m fine.” Holly looked around the empty kitchen, trying not to let her disappointment show in her voice. She’d been hoping the phone call was Andy with an update on Jared’s alibi from the night she went over the bridge.

One of Laurie’s twins squealed in the background, followed by an ear-piercing scream. “Ken,” Laurie yelled. “Can you come give me a hand for a second? I’m on the phone.”

Laurie’s daughter’s crying grew fainter as Holly imagined Ken carrying her out of the room.

“Sorry,” Laurie said. “How’s the manuscript coming? I’d like to think you’re taking some time to recover, but I know you better than that.”

“It’s coming,” Holly said, slumping against the kitchen counter. “But I may not finish if I have to keep taking breaks answering the phone.”

“That’s why I’m calling. To make sure you are taking some breaks. Speaking of that,” Laurie added. “Have you seen Clint today?”

Holly groaned, lifting her gaze toward the neighboring house. “No. And please, stop telling him to check on me like I’m some kind of damsel in distress. It’s embarrassing.”

“But also nice, right?”

Holly contained a smile. Maybe, but she wasn’t about to give Laurie the satisfaction of saying so. “You didn’t tell me he was a widower. Not that it really matters. I just assumed he was divorced.”

“I thought I did. It’s quite tragic, actually.

She killed herself when their son was only seven.

Jumped off their third-story balcony in the middle of the night.

Clint found her body the next morning. My in-laws woke to Clint screaming for help after he discovered her lying dead on the back patio.

I’m surprised Clint can still live in the house. ”

“That’s awful.” She recalled the distant look on John’s face in her office when she’d assumed his parents were divorced. What a horrific thing for him to go through.

“I know.”

Holly’s gaze drifted to the French doors at the back of the kitchen. “Isn’t his house two-story? I haven’t seen a balcony anywhere.”

“There’s a daylight basement. Clint took the balcony down shortly afterward and put a window there instead.

I can’t blame him; it must’ve driven him crazy having to look at it after what happened.

According to my mother-in-law, Clint’s wife Diana wasn’t right in the head, even though she seemed like a normal, doting mom.

Clint said she’d never gotten over her baby blues after their son was born.

Probably had undiagnosed postpartum depression, which wasn’t really recognized back then.

In fact, the day before Diana killed herself,” Laurie continued, “she came over and told my mother-in-law how nice it was knowing her and told her she was going away for a while. Maurine thought she was going on a trip. Then, after she learned what happened, she realized the woman must’ve been saying goodbye.

Maurine still feels terrible about the whole thing and blames herself for not knowing what Diana was intending to do.

I can only imagine what Clint must’ve felt like. ”

Holly felt a shiver pass through her as another high-pitched scream cut through the background of their call. Poor Clint. He must’ve felt guilty too, being her husband.

Laurie sighed. “Anyway, I also wanted to tell you I left a stack of mail from your PO box on your kitchen counter. I picked it up like you asked but forgot to tell you after taking you home from the hospital. But you’ve probably seen it by now.”

Holly’s gaze dropped to the stack of unopened letters on the table. “I did, thanks.” She’d gone through the envelopes after finding them to make sure none looked like the one Jared had sent. Thankfully, none had.

Holly heard some commotion on the line as she sifted through the envelopes again, her mind still on Clint’s wife committing suicide. One of Laurie’s twins shouted something Holly couldn’t make out.

Laurie let out an exasperated sigh. “I have to go. Lily just spilled a gallon of milk all over the floor.”

The line went dead before Holly could say goodbye.

She started to hang up when a crisp, white envelope sticking out of the stack of fan mail made her blood run cold.

Her name and address were typed on the front with no return address.

She dropped the phone on the counter and lifted the envelope.

She hadn’t remembered seeing it before when she’d checked the mail.

Her fingers trembled as she ripped it open.

She drew in a sharp breath after unfolding the paper and reading the typed words.

Roses are red, violets are blue, the locks on your doors won’t keep me from you.

She covered her mouth with a hand, letting the paper fall to the counter. She spun around and dialed Andy’s work number.

“Come on, pick up.” It was Sunday, she realized. Andy might not be back at his office until tomorrow.

He answered on the second ring. “Detective Harris.”

“Andy, it’s Holly.” She paused to take a breath. “I just found another note. From Jared. But this one’s threatening. It says…” She closed her eyes, not needing to see the words again to recite them. “The locks on your doors won’t keep me from you.”

“Where did you find the note?” Andy asked, his voice calm.

Holly turned. “I just found it on the counter with a bunch of fan mail.”

“So it wasn’t delivered to the place where you’re staying, right?”

“I—I’m not sure how it got here.” She lifted a hand to her forehead.

“Laurie brought over my mail from my PO Box, but I went through it yesterday and I don’t remember seeing this envelope with the others.

It’s possible I could’ve missed it, but what if…

” She nearly choked at the thought of Jared breaking into her house in the night, watching her sleep before planting the note in the kitchen.

“Are there any signs that someone broke in?”

She glanced around. “No, not that I know of, but—”

“Hang on.”

There was muffled murmuring on the other line.

“Okay, I’m coming,” she heard Andy say.

“Holly?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re in a gated neighborhood, and there’s no way Jared should know where you are. If you bring the note to me tomorrow, I’ll have it dusted for prints.”

She stared at the typed letter from Jared on the counter. Tomorrow? What if that’s too late? “Why not tonight?”

“The print lab isn’t staffed on Sundays. There won’t be technicians working again until the morning. But I wouldn’t get your hopes up. The only prints lifted off that first poem you got were yours.”

Holly’s heart sank. Of course, Jared hadn’t left his prints on the poem. He was an ex-cop.

“In the meantime,” Andy continued. “I already have a patrol car monitoring your neighborhood. I also pushed through your restraining order given you being run off that bridge. I’m afraid there’s not much more I can do at the moment. If you feel unsafe, maybe you could stay with a friend?”

Holly bit her lip. Aside from Laurie, she didn’t have any. And she couldn’t risk drawing Jared to Laurie’s home with her two young daughters.

“It’s okay. I’ll stay here for now.”

“Holly, I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

She could hear the fatigue in the detective’s voice. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. He’s doing all he can.

“Andy? What about Jared’s alibi from the other night with Tommy Reed? Were you able to confirm it?” Holly glanced at the waning daylight beyond her window.

“Not yet. I asked Detective O’Malley to give me a call tonight to update me. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Don’t let him rattle you. It’s going to be okay.”

Holly stared at the note after hanging up. She strained to remember if that envelope had been there yesterday when she’d flipped through the mail. If it had been, why hadn’t she noticed it?

Now, she couldn’t clearly recall it not being there either. She lifted her fingertips to her temples. Maybe I just didn’t see it. After running her off the bridge, it was hard to imagine Jared breaking in to leave a note. If he’d been in this house, she’d likely be dead.

She glanced at the sun setting beyond the window and thought of the long night ahead.

A knock at the front door made her nearly jump out of her skin. She whipped her head toward the entryway, then pulled a steak knife from a drawer before moving to the front of the house. It was too dark out to make out the person standing on the front steps, only that it looked like a man.

Her shoulders sagged with relief after she checked the peephole. It was Clint.

He smiled in the glow of the porch lights, looking his usual handsome self. When she opened the door, he held up a bottle of red wine.

“Hi.” His cheerful expression faded, the spark in his eyes dimming with worry. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her heart still hammered against her ribs. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to convince herself as much as her handsome neighbor.

His gaze fell to the knife in her hand.

She followed his gaze. “I was just…um.” She lifted the knife. “Cooking.”

“Oh.” His expression relaxed. “What are you making?”

“I hadn’t decided yet.”

His brows knit together. He studied her as if waiting for her to elaborate or say she was kidding.

When she did neither, he lifted the bottle again.

“Well, John has retreated to his room with that book you loaned him, and I didn’t feel like drinking alone.

” He shook his head. “That came out wrong. Not that I share wine with my fifteen-year-old.” He ran a hand through his hair.

Was he nervous?

“I just thought it’d be nice to share this with someone.” He cracked another smile.

She glanced at the bottle, unable to shed from her mind the image of Jared creeping around her house.

“I know you’re on a deadline,” he added, seeing the hesitation in her eyes. “So feel free to say no, although if you don’t mind me saying so, you look like you could use a drink.”

He cast her a lopsided grin, and she opened the door wider for him to step inside.

“Yes, I could.”

Plus, she felt safer with Clint here anyway.