Bennett whirled his chair toward him. “Ivy said that sometimes cold cases just need a fresh pair of eyes.”
“That sounds like her,” the chief muttered.
Bennett pulled up the picture of the senator’s body. “The gun
shouldn’t
still be in his hand.” The odds of that—
too low.
“And why was gunshot residue on Cameron’s shirt?”
“He…he might have just brushed against the weapon. Or against the senator’s hand or—”
“Or maybe
he
fired the weapon.”
The chief stepped back. “You’re saying Cameron Wilde killed the senator?”
Bennett surged to his feet. “It was the way he acted in interrogation. All wrong. Just…too cold. He didn’t even flinch when he saw the picture of Shelly’s body.”
“Having a strong stomach doesn’t make a man a killer!”
No, but having gunshot residue on his clothes…being in the same house with the senator…being—
“Everyone knew the senator was spiraling out of control.” Chief Quarrel’s voice was even rougher now. “His suicide was no surprise. I would think you, of all people, would have been glad that justice was served.”
It hadn’t been justice. Not even close. “Everyone thought he killed himself…so no one looked deep enough into the case.”
Not even Ivy? Or her grandfather? But maybe…maybe her father’s death had hurt her too much. His life and his death. So she had worked other cases, but never his.
“You got the number for the officers who are trailing Wilde?” Bennett demanded. The guy had been gone about thirty minutes—and Bennett needed to know just where the fellow was at that moment.
“Officers Brady and Givens.” The chief immediately rattled off Brady’s number. Bennett yanked out his phone and called the officer. The line rang once, twice.
“Officer Brady.”
“You still have eyes on Wilde?”
“Yes, sir…he’s just…he went back to his house. He’s gone inside and pulled the blinds shut. His car is out front.”
“If he leaves, if he moves at all, you call me right away, got it?”
Because he didn’t trust Wilde. And it wasn’t just about Ivy and the past they shared. It was something deeper. Darker.
***
“When I heard that shot, I jumped out of the pool and ran inside as fast as I could,” Hugh said, his voice halting. “I was dripping water everywhere and I thought about how much Dad would hate that. You know how he always wanted the house to look perfect. The perfect house to hide our screwed up family.”
She squeezed him harder.
“Cameron was in Dad’s room. When I ran in, he was standing over Dad. Staring at him. I didn’t even understand what the hell had happened, not until Cameron looked up and told me…he said it was all over now. Dad had killed himself.”
He shuddered against her.
“That’s what one of the cops told me last night,” Hugh whispered. “Same stupid words. That Shelly was g
one
. That it was all over for her.
All over.
What the hell does that even mean?”
She looked up at him. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Not enough. I can still see Shelly. I see her everywhere.”
She glanced around the wrecked house. “Is that why you’ve been breaking everything?”
“Ives…I’m scared. I don’t think I can do this without her.”
“
Hugh.
” She snapped out his name, saying it hard and fast.
His bleary stare met hers.
“You can do this. You
will
do this, do you understand me? You aren’t going out like our father. You are going to get through this. Because I’m going to be with you. We always stick together, don’t we? No matter what?”
Hugh nodded.
“We’re going to find the man who hurt Shelly. We’re going to stop him.”
His shoulders straightened a bit.
“You have to get yourself together, though, Hugh. You have to get some sleep. Eat. Stop drinking.”
Don’t take our father’s path.
“It hurts…”
“I know. And it’s probably going to hurt a lot more before it gets better.” She wouldn’t lie to him. The funeral would be hell. “But doesn’t Shelly deserve justice? Don’t you want to give her that?”
“
Yes.
”
Damn straight. “Good. Then let’s get you to bed and—”
“I…wrecked the bed.”
She frowned at him, then went to investigate. She peeked in the room and sure enough—“Why?” She turned around and Hugh was behind her. The detective had waited in the den.
“Because the sheets smelled of her. Because I could still feel her there.”
Ivy nodded. “Okay, then we’re going back to my place.” Because she wasn’t leaving her brother alone. “You’ll stay in my guest room. And we’ll get through this—together.” She offered her hand to him.
He stared at her fingers. Slowly, his hand rose and curled around hers. “Is this what it felt like for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“When Bennett left you? Is this what it was like? You hated the whole damn world and pain was ripping your guts out?”
She’d hurt, so much, but it wasn’t the same. Bennett had still been alive. Just not with her. Shelly… “Everything is going to be all right.” But those words felt like such a lie.
And his bitter smiled called her on that lie. “I told him to leave you. To never look back. I saw what he did to Dad. Saw the way he attacked him…he was dangerous, Ivy. I thought he’d hurt you.”
“Let’s go, Hugh.”
“But I’m the one who hurt you…I forced him to leave, threatened him with jail.
I
did that to you. Not just Dad, me.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I’m so sorry.”
So was she. For so many things.
Bennett never mentioned that Hugh threatened him. Just my father.
Why had he kept that part secret?
Hugh didn’t speak again as they left his condo. Their guard watched them, the detective’s face grim. At least the guy hadn’t needed to use his gun. Her brother was safe.
She’d make sure he stayed that way.
***
Bennett’s phone rang just as he was heading out to his car. He yanked the phone to his ear. “Bennett.”
“Detective Morgan? He’s…he’s gone sir.”
“Officer Brady?”
“I got worried because his place was so quiet. I went to the door, knocked—”
So much for keeping a low profile.
“The house is empty. The back door was unlocked, so I-I searched the place before calling you.”
Sonofabitch.
“He’s gone.” The cop sounded miserable. “He must have left on foot.”
“Start searching the area. Maybe he just went out for a damn jog or something.” The cops from Fort Morgan had said they’d found Cameron jogging on the beach. “Look for him.
Find
him. Call in extra units.” Because he was afraid it wasn’t going to be something as simple as a run.
He was afraid…afraid that Cameron’s obsession with Ivy might have grown too much over the years. Grown so much that he started seeking out women with long, dark hair, just like hers. Women who were close to Ivy’s age.
Women he’d killed.
Because Ivy had rejected him?
“Find him,” Bennett ordered flatly. “Find. Him.”
Ivy turned off the alarm at her house. She cast a nervous smile toward Detective Trout. She felt so bad having the guy trail her. He was a detective, for goodness sake. He probably wanted to be out, hitting the streets, looking for clues.
Not playing guard duty.
“Why don’t you relax in the den, Detective?” she offered. “I’m going to get my brother settled in upstairs.”
“You need some help?” the detective asked.
“No, but thank you.” She steered Hugh toward the stairs. “Feel free to grab a bite from the kitchen. Or if you want to run out and get something…I mean, I’m safe here. And I’m not alone.”
“She’s got me,” Hugh mumbled.
But the detective shook his head. “My orders were to stay close.” But his gaze slid toward the kitchen. “Though I could go for a sandwich.”
“Help yourself.” She flashed him a nervous smile, then turned back to her brother. He was wavering on his feet. They climbed the stairs together, then she turned to the right, heading for the guest room.
Her brother pretty much fell into the bed. He put his hand over his eyes. “I hope I dream about her,” he muttered. “Then maybe…maybe I can pretend she’s still with me.”
She pulled the covers over him.
“Love you, Ives…”
“And I love you.” She shut the blinds, darkening the room. She slipped back into the hallway and shut the door behind her. Ivy dug her phone out of her pocket. She should call Bennett and tell him that she’d gone back home. Maybe he could update her on the case. Tell her what was happening.
She put the phone to her ear.
***
Ivy was back
. She’d finally returned home.
Only…
She wasn’t alone. He’d heard the voices. The footsteps.
Her brother. A cop.
Too many eyes. Too many distractions.
Did she think they’d keep her safe? They weren’t going to stop him. No one was going to stop him. Ivy was his key. No, his mirror. She saw beneath his mask.
He’d do anything for her.
Now he knew why she mattered so much. It was all clear to him.
He stood in her pantry, waiting. He’d been in that house for so long, just waiting for her to come back. A knife was gripped in his left hand, and he had his mask on.
Waiting
…
Hugh had been so stupid to keep the security code for Ivy’s house on his phone. Such a dumb mistake. But then, Hugh wasn’t the brightest fellow. So blind. So easily misled.
He’d known she would be back to her home, sooner or later.
Footsteps padded closer to him. He’d left the pantry door cracked open, just a bit, and he saw the cop approaching. He backed up a bit, heading into the darkness of that pantry. The shadows.
Come and get me…
The pantry door opened.
A blond man stood there. Had to be the one Ivy had called “detective”. Behind his mask, the killer smiled. The cop wasn’t even looking at him. He was staring at the bread on the nearby shelf. The guy strolled inside as if he owned the place.
You don’t.
The cop reached for the bread.
The killer gripped the weapon in his hand—and he stabbed the bastard with his knife.
The cop opened his mouth to scream.
Can’t have that.
Before that sound could escape, the killer clamped his left hand over the guy’s lips. He stabbed the cop again and again.
He stabbed him until the man’s body stopped twitching.
Until the detective just slid to the floor.
***
“Bennett? Hi…um, I’m home,” Ivy said when he answered her call. She paused near her bedroom door.
“
Ivy.
”
She liked the way he said her name. Liked the need and the—
“Is the detective still with you?” Bennett demanded.
She smiled. “He’s downstairs. Don’t worry. I’m totally safe.” She strolled into her room. Gazed down at the street below. It was broad daylight, and the moss hanging from the oak tree at the end of her drive swayed lightly in the breeze. “Hugh is with me, too. Though he’s currently sleeping like—”
The dead
. She cleared her throat. “He’s sleeping.” She paced back toward the bedroom door. “Bennett, did you learn anything new? Did you—”
Her doorbell rang.
Ivy paused. She’d just looked out the window. There had been no cars in front of her house. She hadn’t seen anyone walking in the street.
“What’s wrong?” Bennett asked her.
“Nothing. Someone’s just at the door.”
She hurried from her room, keeping the phone pressed to her ear as she headed down the stairs. “Hugh just got to sleep. I don’t want anyone to wake him up.” She rushed past the kitchen. From the corner of her eye, she saw the detective, standing just inside her pantry. “I have to get the door,” Ivy told Bennett. “Give me just a second…”
She peeked through her curtains, trying to get a glimpse of her porch. She couldn’t see anyone though and—
The doorbell rang again.
“Get Detective Trout to check outside.” Bennett’s voice sounded angry. “Don’t open the door.”
She took a step away from the window. “Okay. Just settle down, all right? You’re making
me
nervous.” She cleared her throat.
And I’m already plenty nervous enough.
He didn’t have to help the situation any.
“
Ivy!”
The doorbell rang again, right after that loud cry, and she jumped. “It’s Cameron!”
Her breath expelled in a quick rush. “It’s okay, Bennett,” she told him quickly. “I know who’s at the door.”
The floor creaked behind her. She didn’t look back. Detective Trout must be heading her way.
“Cameron’s at the door,” Ivy said to Bennett, “I’ll call you right back—”
“No!” Now his voice sounded desperate.
Ivy had just started to reach for the doorknob with her left hand. Her fingers stilled.
“Don’t let him in. Don’t open the door. I think he’s a killer, Ivy.”
What?
The floor squeaked behind her once more.
“I think he killed—”
The door shook beneath what had to be Cameron’s pounding fists. “Ivy!” He bellowed. “Let me in!”
She spun around, thinking the detective must have been behind her—she’d heard his footsteps, right? Or at least, the creak of the floor beneath him.
But…no one was there.
“Who do you think he killed?” Ivy asked Bennett. Then she laughed because this was crazy. Cameron was her friend, not a killer. “Not Shelly. And he…he doesn’t even have the right hair color, Bennett. I told you, that night at the Order of Pharaohs ball, the man in the mask had dark hair. Cameron has blond hair.”
The door had stopped shaking beneath Cameron’s fists.
“Ivy, get Detective Trout,” Bennett said grimly.
That was what she was
trying
to do! She hurried to the kitchen. The pantry door was still slightly ajar. “Who do you think Cameron killed?” Ivy demanded again.
“Your father.”
She almost dropped the phone. That was just…just crazy. No way had Cameron killed her father. Her father had committed suicide. Her fingers—quivering just a bit—reached for the pantry door. She opened it.
It was dark inside.
Ivy flipped the light switch.
And saw the body on the floor.
“
Ivy, Ivy talk to me…
”
She rushed inside and nearly slipped in the blood. So much blood. “Bennett…” She put her hand to the detective’s throat. “He’s dead, Bennett. Detective Trout is dead.”
“Cameron is in the house!”
“No.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “He’s at the front door. Detective Trout is dead inside. The killer is
inside.
” A killer that
wasn’t
Cameron.
Then, up above her, she heard a creak. Ivy’s head tipped back as she stared at the ceiling. Her guest room was directly above the pantry. Hugh was up there. Asleep.
Helpless.
And I don’t think he is alone.
“Hurry, Bennett.
Hurry.
” She shot out of the pantry. “Because I can’t let him kill my brother!”
“Ivy, Ivy, baby, no, whatever—”
“I love you,” she whispered. Then Ivy shoved the phone into her back pocket because she couldn’t keep the phone in her grasp when she was fighting that jerk upstairs. She spun around in her kitchen, looking for a weapon.
She had a block of knives on her counter, and she grabbed the butcher knife.
Then she ran for the stairs.
***
“Ivy?
Ivy!”
Bennett yelled.
But there was no answer.
Shit, shit, shit! He floored the gas even as he put in a frantic call to the PD. He gave the dispatcher Ivy’s address and told her, “An officer is down and the suspected perp is
in
the house.” In the house—Dear God, with Ivy. “Get units there, now!”
But he would get there before they arrived. He was just a few miles away.
Just a few…
But Ivy had never seemed farther from him.
I love you.
Her last words whispered through his mind, driving him right to the edge of sanity. If he got there and Ivy was hurt…if she was lying dead in a pool of blood, like Shelly…
No, baby, no.
He raced right through a red light, honking his horn to alert the other drivers. Fear was an acid, burning in his gut. Ivy—she was all he could think about. Ivy was the only thing that mattered.
Ivy. He prayed that he wouldn’t get to her…too late.
***
Ivy wasn’t letting him in.
Cameron backed away from her front door. He was lucky the neighbors hadn’t already called the cops on him. But he’d been forced to yell and pound at Ivy’s door so she’d know it was him out there. He hadn’t brought his phone with him when he’d ditched those cops who’d been on his trail. He’d needed her to know it was him on her porch. Needed her to understand that she was safe.
After their little chat at the station, it had been abundantly clear that Bennett suspected him. The guy’s green gaze had glittered with fury as he stared at Cameron. So who knew what shit the detective had told Ivy? He had to reassure her.
Only Ivy still hadn’t answered the door.
Because she believed Bennett’s lies or…
He jumped off her porch and stared up at the house. Ivy’s room was to the left. And the guest room was to the right. The blinds were drawn in the guest room.
He looked back over his shoulder. A sedan was at the end of the street. It looked like an unmarked police car to him. But…if it was…if Ivy was in the house with a cop…
She would have answered the door.
Ivy was his friend. There was only one reason she wouldn’t let him in.
Because she’s in trouble.
Dammit, Ivy needed him.
He ran around to the back of the house. Her back door was made partially of glass. The front door was too hard to break through, but the back—
I’ll bust my way inside.
Because he
was
getting to Ivy.
***
Ivy rushed off the stairs. She flew toward the guest room.
And she nearly ran into the man who was waiting for her. A tall man, with broad shoulders. A man wearing a white Mardi Gras mask that totally covered his face. The mask covered everything, except his bright blue eyes.
She looked into those eyes…and saw evil staring back at her.
She jumped away from him and lifted her knife. “Who the hell are you?”
His eyes gleamed. “The man in the mask…”
He was just a few feet away from Hugh’s door. And there was…there was a bloody knife in his hand.
Her lips trembled. “What did you do?”
“I made sure we could be alone.” He made no move toward her. Just held his knife.
She held hers.
“Mirror, mirror…pretty broken mirror…” he whispered.
She inched down the hallway. “Hugh?” His name emerged as a broken cry. She tried again. Louder. “Hugh?”
The man in the mask laughed. “He can’t answer…”
Her fingers tightened around her butcher knife.
“Such a shame…”
He’d said that before. In that dark corridor at the Order of Pharaohs ball.
Inside, Ivy was breaking apart. Breath by breath. Her heart was splintering. But she tried her best not to show any fear. She suspected he’d like her fear too much. “The police are coming.”
His bright blue gaze darted to her knife. “Think you’ll kill me before they get here?”
Yes.
Because if he’d stabbed her brother, if he’d taken Hugh from her,
I will kill him.
“I’m not the one you should fear, sweet Ivy. It was never
my
plan.”
Glass shattered. The sharp sound came from downstairs and Ivy jerked. Her gaze flew toward the stairs.
And the man in the mask lunged toward her.
“No!” Ivy lifted her knife and she drove it into his stomach. There was a sickening, wet sound as that blade cut deep and his blue eyes widened.
“Ivy…” Anger and pain twisted in his voice.
Her knife was still in his stomach.
And
his
knife was at her throat. She remembered another time. Another knife. Sebastian Jones’s step-father had wanted to cut her throat, too.
But she’d held him off.
Then Hugh and Cameron had arrived…
“Ivy!”
Relief nearly made her dizzy. That was Cameron’s voice. Cameron pounded up the stairs. Her alarm was shrieking, and she knew that he must have broken in through her back door.
That
shattering she’d heard had been the door’s glass panel breaking.
“If you move,” the man in the mask told her, “I will cut you ear to ear.”
She had her knife buried to the hilt in him but he was still standing there, like some terrible movie monster, far too strong.
“Ivy…” Cameron sounded so close. So desperate.
Her gaze slid toward him. He was right at the landing, and his gaze glittered wildly.
“The police are coming,” she managed to say, choking back her fear. “He’s not going to get away.”
Cameron shook his head. “No. He won’t. I promise you that.”
Cameron was wearing jogging shorts and a t-shirt. His body was covered in a light film of sweat, as if he’d run to her house.
“I know a secret,” the man in the mask said to Ivy, his voice nearly gloating. “Want to hear it?”