Raine shut off the shower and squeezed her hair to wring out the excess water. The bathroom door flew open. She gasped and jerked back as Callum ran inside. Gun in hand, pointed at the floor, he barely glanced at her and ran to the closet at the other end of the bathroom.
She grabbed the towel hanging over the top of the glass door and threw it around her, covering up just as he emerged. He’d put his gun away and was on the phone now.
“What’s going on?” She stepped out of the shower onto the bath rug, clutching the towel against her body.
“It’s okay,” he silently mouthed, still on the phone. A second later, he was gone, the door closing behind him.
She should have been angry at the invasion of her privacy. But it was obvious that something was wrong. He’d come in here to make sure she was okay, and that no one else was with her. That much was obvious. What wasn’t obvious was why. Why would he think someone else was up here? And who was he speaking to on the phone?
She hurriedly towel-dried her hair, not bothering with makeup. After throwing on a pair of jeans and a dark blue blouse, she stepped into her bedroom.
The first thing she noticed was that Callum was standing by one of the windows, peering through the plantation shutters toward the street out front. The second was that the wooden chair that normally sat at her reading desk was propped under the door handle on her bedroom door. No one was getting in, or out.
“Callum, good grief. What’s going on? Why did you barge into the bathroom while I was naked, with your gun out?”
He flipped the shutters closed and walked over to her, his jaw set, worry lines creasing his brow. “To my credit, I did knock before going into the bathroom. And I called out your name, twice. You didn’t answer.”
“Yes, well, my head was probably under the water at the time. I didn’t hear you.”
“You’ve seen Pete Scoggin before. Describe him to me.”
“Scoggin? What? Why?”
“Please.”
She sighed. “Of course I’ve seen him. I performed surveillance on him. But I told you he had nothing to do with the murder cases I presented to you. It was all a fabrication to get your help.”
“Not entirely.” He leaned against the thick cherrywood post of her footboard. “You fabricated the alleged connection between Scoggin and the other murders you had in your files, presenting him as the serial killer we were searching for. But you were more right about him than you realized. It looks like he may very well have killed the first victim you looked into.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Nancy Piraino? That was a guess more than anything, that he should be a suspect in her death. You really think he could be the one who murdered her?”
“It’s looking that way. Faith and Asher dug into his background, and the victim’s—”
“Nancy.”
“Nancy. No one else in her life even remotely seems to have any reason to want to hurt her. Scoggin is the only one we’ve been able to find with both motive and opportunity.”
She glanced at the chair under the door, her throat tightening. “And you think, what, that he’s the one who broke into my home and tore it up? And that he might have gotten back in somehow?”
“The police are the ones who cleared the upstairs after I lost the suspect in the woods. Once I realized that the surveillance on Scoggin lost him, I had to make sure he hadn’t managed to double back and sneak into the house again during the chaos.”
She shivered and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Why would he come after me? Because he blames me for, what? Telling Unfinished Business about him? How would he even know I did that?”
“Not UB specifically. But you were watching him for a while. He may have noticed, took down your license plate number at some point, figured out who you were. We put out feelers to the police about him the same day we got your files. The police interviewed him that day, but had nothing to hold him on so they didn’t arrest him. Now he’s gone missing. No one knows where he is. He’d done some vandalism to Nancy’s home at one point. I don’t like that coincidence considering someone broke into your home and did the same. I haven’t seen a picture of him yet. Can you describe him?”
She shrugged. “Nothing that really stands out. Shorter than you by several inches, probably about five-eight, five-nine. He wasn’t heavy, average build I guess. Maybe even on the skinny side. Dark hair...” She drew a sharp breath. “I’m describing the same man we saw tonight.”
He nodded. “You are.” He pulled out his phone again and thumbed through some pictures, then held it up toward her. “Recognize this guy?”
“No, I... Wait. He’s older, a little heavier, though not by much. Randy Hagen?”
“That’s his most recent mug shot, from his latest drug arrest. Based on what you just said, he could be a double for Scoggin. Which means the guy I chased into the woods could be either one of them. If Hagen knows you’ve been nosing around and throwing his name into the mix to try to free your brother, he could have decided to try to scare you. I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate being labeled as a potential suspect, or accused of committing perjury at your brother’s trial if it means he could get in trouble.”
“He wouldn’t be wrong. He could definitely get in trouble.” She climbed onto the foot of the bed and sat a few feet away from where he was leaning. “If he was proven to have perjured himself at trial, it wouldn’t matter that the statute of limitations on perjury is only a few years. Here in Georgia, the clock doesn’t start ticking on the limitations until the offense has been discovered. That means he could still be tried. And if convicted, since his false testimony sent someone to death row, he’d receive an automatic life sentence.”
He whistled. “That’s a hell of an incentive to want to keep you from talking to the police.”
A sickening feeling shot through her, as if she’d just plunged down a steep incline. “Is he... Is either Scoggin or Hagen—”
“In the house? I don’t believe so. But with you out of my sight up here, I had to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t get a chance to search the whole house yet. We’re not staying anyway, not with two men potentially close by with motives to want to hurt you.”
“Not staying? You really think I’m in danger?”
“I’d rather overreact than assume you’re safe here and be proven wrong. Your address is public knowledge. A simple internet search would find you. Someone already did.”
She shivered and rubbed her arms. “Where can we go then? A hotel?”
“I want you somewhere safer than that, somewhere not out in public or easily found through an internet records search.”
“Where would that be?”
Red and blue lights flashed across the shutters covering the windows.
He went to the nearest one and peered out. “I called Danny, Detective Cooper. He’s going to put out a BOLO on Scoggin too, across Georgia and Tennessee, specifically for being wanted in connection with the murder of Nancy Piraino. It will be broadcast all over the media. We’ll find him. I also asked Danny to send over one of the patrol officers he’d asked to watch the neighborhood. They’re going to escort us, follow my SUV to make sure no one else follows us. We’re going to a house where you’ll be safe.”
He crossed to the door, then moved the chair out from under the doorknob. “I’ll let him know you’ll be down in a few minutes. Pack a bag. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”
“Callum, wait. Where are we going? What house are you talking about where you think I’ll be safe?”
He paused in the doorway and looked back at her. “Mine.”