Page 57 of The Murder Club

Bailey managed a faint smile. “She is thorough.”

“Meticulous,” he agreed, his hands clenching as he realized they might have answered one question, though dozens remained.

“What is it?” Bailey asked, easily sensing his burst of anxiety.

“We might be able to explain how someone could have gotten pictures of the interior of this house, but how did the stalker know which room you’re using?”

“I—”

They both stiffened as another chime sounded. His brows snapped together as Bailey glanced down at her phone, the color draining from her face.

“The stalker?”

She gave a sharp nod. “A text this time.” She stepped to stand next to him, allowing him to see the screen. “‘Do I have your attention?’” she read out loud.

Dom could see her fingers tighten on the phone. “Do you want me to call Zac?”

“Later.” She squared her shoulders. “I have to play his game. At least for now.”

Dom wanted to argue. Hell, he wanted to take her phone and throw it out the window. Nothing good could come from giving into the stalker’s manipulations. Then again, there were potentially three people dead. Could they risk turning Bailey from the stalker’s obsession to his enemy.

He grudgingly nodded and Bailey quickly typed in the words.

Yes, you have my attention.

Good. I will offer you one warning . . .

They waited. And waited. At last Bailey typed in the question the stalker wanted her to ask.

A warning?

Our private murder club has started. I don’t like having you distracted.

Bailey glanced at Dom, her expression puzzled. “What’s he talking about?”

Dom shrugged. “I don’t have a clue.”

Trust me. I’m not distracted, Bailey typed.

There was another long pause before a picture popped up. This one wasn’t of the house. Instead, it was a fuzzy image of him and Bailey in the nursing home parking lot. They were standing close together, both oblivious to the world around them.

Dom easily recalled that precise moment. He’d been desperate to sweep Bailey into his arms and claim her lips. He also recalled what had shattered the moment.

A movement out of the corner of his eye.

“This picture was taken from the old building next door,” he said, not surprised when Bailey nodded, no doubt recalling his claim that he’d seen a figure in the window.

“Quite possibly.”

Returning her attention to her phone, she hesitated, as if considering the best way to respond to the stalker.

I had a meeting with my boss at the nursing home.

The text came back at lightning speed.

Lucier isn’t a part of our club. Why is he with you?

Bailey made a sound of surprise. “He knows your name.”