Chapter Fifteen

That whore.

The Snatcher stormed inside his lair, wanting to break, crush, destroy. Not only had she taken another man into her body, but now she wanted to flaunt it in his face?

How dare she?

He should’ve fucked her the first moment he brought her to his lair, raped her brains out and killed her then. Goddamn cunt. She was his.

She just needed a little reminder.

That dumb, pig deputy Morgan, might think he had her all to himself. But no one knew how to rattle Jenna Daggert’s cage like the Snatcher did.

Time for payback, bitch.

* * * *

Jenna smiled a drowsy grin as she shuffled into her kitchen yawning. Another grapefruit awaited her. She wasn’t sure which family member replenished her stock every couple of days, but God bless him…or her. After cutting it in half and setting one portion in the refrigerator, wrapped in cellophane, she sprinkled the remaining slice with sugar and sat on a stool at the kitchen counter to scoop out the tart pulpy center.

Still asleep in her bed, her lover hadn’t even stirred when she slipped from the sheets next to him. She’d worn the poor deputy out last night, and in turn he’d filled her with an inner peace.

After finishing her breakfast, she changed into her swimsuit and stepped out into the warm morning. The sound of cicadas constantly creaked from the trees. With a happy sigh, she padded onto her porch and started barefoot toward the pool. Yawning and eager for a nice cool dip to wake her, she didn’t even pay attention to the water until she stepped onto her diving board and nearly dove into its blood-soaked depths.

Yelping out a sound of surprise when she realized a body already occupied the water, she almost stumbled off the side of the diving board. She barely caught herself before falling and landing in a mass of long blonde hair streaming like a Chinese fan from the unmoving head of the dead woman floating face down, her arms and legs spread eagle and bobbing from the occasional ripple of waves.

Jenna’s eyes finally adjusted to what she saw.

The scream that followed echoed off into the trees, overshadowing the cicadas’ symphony.

* * * *

Jenna couldn’t grasp it. Her home had become a murder scene. The Snatcher had taken her beloved swimming pool and turned it into a true-life horror film.

Realizing the Snatcher had been in the flower shop while she’d been working yesterday was creepy enough. Knowing he’d dumped a dead body, maybe even murdered the woman in Jenna’s yard, was downright mind-numbing.

Racked by a body-consuming shiver, she briskly rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“Sit down,” Joseph murmured behind her, touching her arm to direct her to a chair.

Jumping under his touch, she pulled away and shook her head. “Can’t sit down, can’t stay still.” She paced through the quiet flower shop until she entered the back workroom, where she and Joseph had made love less than twenty-four hours earlier. But in here, all she could see was a memory of the dead flowers the Snatcher had left for her and reading his note over Joseph’s shoulder.

Behind her, her lover silently dogged her heels. She wanted to spin around and hiss at him, scream at him to leave her alone, then scream at him to pull her closer for a hug, hiding her away from all this shit.

He hovered with worried eyes, standing only inches away, yet way too far from her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to your parents’?” he asked. “Or your brother’s house. One of your cousins’ maybe? We could go to my place.”

She shook her head. “No.” Then she thought a moment before agreeing with her first decision. “No. I just…I need to keep busy. I need to catch up on some paperwork, anyway. Sky refuses to touch the books and Paige always calculates wrong.”

She turned toward the office when Joseph caught her arm. “Jenna—”

“Don’t.” She lifted her arm and shook her head frantically.

When a sob ripped from her throat, he cursed. “Come here.”

She resisted when he tried to tug her close, but he ignored it and yanked her firmly against his chest, where she finally collapsed and sobbed.

She had no idea how long he held her, could’ve been five minutes or five hours. But when she finally surfaced from the tears, she felt drained and sore, every bruise and scratch on her pulsing with a dull throb.

Clearing her dry throat, she lifted her face. “Do…do you know who…who she was?”

Joseph winced. “It’s not official, but Basteil said she looked like some woman named Claire Sumpter.”

“Oh God.” Jenna shuddered and covered her mouth with both hands.

Tightening his arms around her, Joseph kissed her hair. “You knew her?”

“Not…” She licked her lips. “Not really. Just knew who she was, mostly. But…but she…she was in the flower shop yesterday. She bought some roses.”

She closed her eyes and hugged Joseph close. He smoothed her hair out of her face. “What can I do? Tell me what to do.”

Lashes still resting on the tops of her cheeks, she smiled. He was already doing it. But the dust in her esophagus kept tickling her throat. “I could use a drink.”

Immediately, he nodded. “What would you like?”

The question prompted her sweet tooth to crave, “A hazelnut java chiller.”

He quirked a brow. “Huh?”

“There’s a Sonic three blocks down. I’d like a large please.”

Looking indecisive, he paused. So Jenna asked, “Who’s on guard?”

“Perrot,” he admitted, “but…”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured, licking her lips as the longing for cold, wet, tasty ice cream grew.

He must’ve seen the want in her eyes because his own softened. “I’ll be right back.” After a quick, hard kiss to her mouth, he said, “I love you,” and turned toward the exit even as he added, “Do not leave this building.”

“I love you, too,” she murmured after he was gone, lifting her fingers to touch her lips. Almost thirty seconds passed as she floated in the sweet sensation that, holy shit, she really did love him, before she remembered what she was doing here in the first place.

She’d been forced away from her home by the Snatcher and the bloody gift he’d left in her swimming pool.

The Sheriff wanted her to keep quiet about the murder until they officially identified the body and notified the girl’s next of kin. If she’d gone to a family member’s house, she probably would’ve spilled all. So she decided to come here.

The paperwork she should’ve started didn’t draw her toward the office at all, so she wandered into the quiet browsing area of the shop. Not even the colorful faces of the flowers could cheer her. In fact, they seemed to press in around her from all angles.

Needing fresh air, she pushed out the door and into the early morning, which shocked her.

It had probably only been an hour or so since she’d discovered Claire Sumpter in her pool, but it felt like days, years.

Glancing around for her guard, she spotted the county’s undersheriff about a half a block away, leaning against the side of the building as he stared in her direction. Jenna sat on a metal-mesh bench to breathe in some much needed air. Her hands shook, but no one was around to notice. It was still too early out for citizens to flock toward the business end of town.

Feeling eyes on her, Jenna shivered and once again glanced toward her watch. Perrot hadn’t moved. But from the other direction, footsteps neared her, making her whirl around. She almost screamed when she found Court Lawson approaching.

Behind him, his delivery truck sat running at the curb and an empty dolly surrounded by flattened cardboard pop crates rested abandoned in front of a vending machine.

Popping the tab on a single can of soda, Lawson sat next to her—not close but just far enough away that he when he extended his arm, he could hold the soda directly in front of her in silent offering.

“You look a little shaken,” he said. “Why don’t you take a drink?”

It was a kind gesture, and Jenna didn’t want to tell him no, though she never had particularly liked the brand of drink in his hand. Besides, her throat was so dry, and it’d take a while for Joseph to return.

She managed a small smile and murmured, “Thanks.”

Their hands brushed as she accepted the gift. His fingers were cold and wet from the condensation on the soda and it made her shiver. He frowned as he slowly brought his hand back to himself and rested his palm on his thigh. Not wanting to insult him anymore than she already had, she tipped the carbonated liquid to her lips and swallowed, trying to ignore the bitter aftertaste. Bluck. She’d always hated this flavor, but it tasted especially nasty today.

At least it was cold, though, and went about clearing her dry throat.

Lawson eyed her intently as if he expected her to spit his present back out on the ground. She let out a refreshed sigh to let him know she wouldn’t.

“Bad morning?” he asked, somewhat sympathetically.

As hard-edged and acerbic as she’d always seen him, Lawson’s trace of compassion surprised her. Made her leery.

Sending him a tense smile, she nodded and took another sip for something to do. “I just can’t wait until this is over.”

Since his all-too alert gaze creeped her out, she glanced across the street toward the barbershop. Rose Atkinson must begin her day at the crack of dawn because she seemed to be the only merchant open. Jenna could vaguely make out someone tipped back in their chair as Rose rinsed her customer’s hair in the sink. Other than that, the street looked deserted of people. When she checked on Perrot, her eyes widened when she found he was no longer where she’d last seen him, lounging against a storefront.

She straightened, abruptly alert. Where the fuck had her guard gone?

She’d almost forgotten about the man beside her until he cryptically answered, “It will be over. Soon.”

His statement sounded so certain, she swerved around to gape at him. That eerie, expectant stare he sent her made her jump up off the bench.

But as soon as she lurched to her feet, a dizzy spell struck. When she wavered, Court Lawson sprang upright as well, grasping her arm, steadying her.

“Whoa there. I think the heat’s getting to you. Why don’t you take another drink?”

This time, he lifted the can for her. She let him, sucking down the nasty flavor until a dribble soaked her chin. Lawson lowered the can. She wiped at her spill and decided she felt worse instead of better. Her stomach pitched. When she caught the man holding her soda watching her as if waiting for something specific to happened, she glanced to the drink in his hand and back up to his face.

At the very moment she wondered if he’d put something in her cola, his grip on her elbow tightened. “Let’s get you inside out of this heat, shall we?” He urged her back into the flower shop.

Jenna wanted to pull away but she suddenly felt so very weak. She swayed and he pulled her snug against his hard chest. Though his uncompromising body supported and steadied her vacillating weight, she didn’t like leaning against him.

Where was Joseph?

Lawson’s hand latched uncompromising around her elbow and she didn’t like that there, either. As if hearing her disapproval, his fingers bit just a little harder around her.

“We need to find you somewhere to lie down,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

Okay, that was it, she decided. Time to get rid of this guy. “I’ll be okay,” she assured, and tugged to free her arm. “But thanks for helping me out.”

When he didn’t let go, fear raced up her spine.

Oh, God. Joseph had been right. Court Lawson was the Snatcher.

“Joseph will be here soon,” she tried, hating the quiver in her voice.

“But he’s not here right now.”

Anger merged with terror. “Let go,” she ordered, except her voice sounded so weak, almost as weak as she felt.

He snorted, “Yeah right. You’ll fall flat on your face if I let go of you.”

“I’m willing to take that risk,” she slurred out, struggling so feebly, she made no impact whatsoever. Without even looking at her, he ushered her through the flower shop toward the back. When the bathroom came into her wavering view, she didn’t think; just reacted. Bundling up all the strength left inside her, Jenna slammed her elbow backward as hard as she could and cracked him in the abdomen.

He let go immediately, hissing out a curse and doubling over. Jenna tripped and stumbled toward the bathroom, catching the door by pure luck and swinging herself inside as she heard him roar behind her.

“Jesus fucking Christ, that hurt.”

Jenna slammed the door, her fingers stumbling to lock it just when the knob jiggled as Lawson tried to open in.

A second later a loud, angry fist pounded. “Open the door,” he ordered, sounding extremely pissed off.

“What did you put into my drink?”

“Just a couple sleeping pills,” he actually admitted. “Now open the fucking door before you pass out and crack your skull open on the side of the sink when you fall.”

Realizing he had a very good point, Jenna slid down and sat on the cold ceramic tile, pressing her back to the far wall as she watched the door vibrate from the mad man’s pounding. Nausea swirled through her and fear surrounded her, but her vision kept fading with each breath.

Terrified, she curled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and sobbed as a piece of wood on the doorframe splintered.

Suddenly, from the other side of the door, there came yelling—it sounded like two, three, maybe four voices—and then everything went dizzy and black.