It was Susan. Kerry felt Hunter’s shoulders relax against her body the moment her sister’s voice boomed. He gave a gentle squeeze to her waist and walked back into the living room.

“Hi, Susan.” Kerry wasn’t certain she wouldn’t have been happier speaking with the stranger. To be fair, Kerry hadn’t seen her sister in over ten years. Maybe her older sister had changed.

Laughter floated in from the living room, barely louder than her racing heart. Kerry would have given anything to be with Hunter and Melissa rather than conversing with her sister. Seeing Hunter play with his daughter with patience and love would have helped erase her dread.

“I just arrived in Tampa,” Susan announced.

With all the recent turmoil, Kerry had forgotten Susan’s planned visit. She didn’t need to be dealing with a killer and her sister at the same time, but she was curious to find out what was so important to make Susan creep back into town and chance running into her abusing ex-boyfriend.

“I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“I won’t keep you, but could I stop over tomorrow night? We really need to talk.”

“Where are you staying?”

“At the Holiday Inn on Fowler.”

Thank God Susan didn’t say she planned to stay with Grandpa. Uncharitable, but her sister had never been trustworthy.

“What time do you want to come over?” Kerry grabbed her stomach to stop the ache.

“After dinner. Around seven, okay?”

Hunter could drop her off at Grandpa’s after work, pick her up and drive her back to his place afterwards.

“I’ll be here.”

Susan hung up without saying goodbye. Her sister must be uncomfortable with long conversations. Maybe she believed someone might trace her call—someone like the creepy boyfriend who’d harmed her. But then why come? And why call?

Kerry checked her watch. If Susan were in town, why not ask to come over now? Not that it mattered. Tonight, tomorrow, whenever, the two sisters would meet. Hell. It might not hurt to spend a few hours with her. Maybe Kerry would learn why her sister had acted so strangely when they were growing up.

Stepping over to the wall, she placed the receiver on the hook. Her fingers curled into a claw. She didn’t need this visit right now, but she couldn’t change it now.

Melissa. She needed to be with Miss Cheer. The little girl was the perfect antidote to the tension crawling up Kerry’s shoulders and stabbing her at the back of her head.

She poked her head into the living room. “Who wants to help me cook?”

“Me! Me!” shouted the little girl.

Kerry had fallen hard for Hunter’s daughter. Something about the way she lit up a room helped soothe Kerry’s heart.

Together, Melissa and she prepared a very simple meal–tuna casserole, which was another one of Melissa’s favorites.

“Don’t forget to put the ‘tatorchips on top,” Melissa chirped.

Kerry smiled. “I wouldn’t think of forgetting.” She grabbed a small bag of chips from the pantry, opened it, and handed the bag to Melissa. “You can crunch them.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Melissa took the bag and pressed it between her small palms. “I can’t wait to tell Katie I helped you, just like she helps her mommy.”

God, she was cute. As comfortable as Kerry felt playing mom, her nerves were getting the best of her, and not all because of Susan’s imminent visit. Kerry’s gaze shot to the wall phone. The second news story had appeared less than ten minutes ago. Would the mysterious man call and berate her again? Or would she have another sleepless night wondering if a family member would recognize #4?

What’s your problem, Herlihy? If the man calls, you’ll have to hide out at Hunter’s again for who knows how long. Do you want that?

Yes.

She refocused on the meal preparation. Kerry mixed the casserole and popped it into the oven. “While the dinner’s cooking, let’s go back and talk to your dad and my Grandpa.”

Anything to keep from watching the phone. Being in the same room with the instrument of torture only ratcheted up her anxiety.

Melissa reached up and grabbed Kerry’s hand. Her heart melted.

The hour-long news was wrapping up when the phone rang again. Hunter jumped up, but Kerry waved him off as she stood. “It’s probably my sister calling me back. I’ll get it.”

She only half believed her statement. As calmly as she could, she walked back into the kitchen, each ring shredding her composure.

Hands trembling, Kerry picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

“Did you expect me to call you at the detective’s house?”

The man’s words sunk in. How did he know she’d been staying at Hunter’s? Spikes of fear marched up her spine. Violation and exposure made her mouth turn dry.

“Wh-who is this?” Her voice cracked. Damn.

“Stop... looking... for... these... women. They deserved to die. They’re better off dead.” His cold tone sent ice down her throat, cutting off her air.

With the phone to her ear, Kerry stumbled to the kitchen’s entrance. Hunter must have followed her for he was by her side in a moment, listening, ear-to-ear.

Hunter’s warmth and strength gave her the courage to ask, “Did you kill these women?”

“Tsk. Tsk. Ask any more stupid questions and you’ll be next.”

He disconnected with a sharp click, and the deafening silence rang in her ears. The trembling began in her hands and shot down her legs. Her fingers remained locked on the handset.

Hunter pried the receiver from her grasp and led her over to the chair. What had the caller wanted? Did he really think she’d stop looking? Who the hell was he?

Hunter gently placed the phone on the hook, and then squatted in front of her, taking her hands in his. “What else did the man say?”

Even Hunter’s warm voice couldn’t prevent her breath from pumping hard in her lungs.

“He...he knows I, ah, am staying at your house.” She hiccupped.

Hunter leaned back on his heels and blew out a breath. “Shit. What else?”

“He told me not to try to identify the women.”

“Did he say why?”

What had the man said? “I can’t remember. I’m so sorry.” He rubbed his thumb over her palm, and the pressure helped level out her breathing to a near calm, but she still had to fight the jumble mass of fear rushing through her brain.

“Did you recognize his voice? Was it Kopetski? Or Norwood?”

She’d promised herself she’d be more aware of his tone, his accent, how he spoke the next time he called. All rational thought disappeared the moment she heard him speak. “I don’t know.” He cast his gaze downward, but she couldn’t lie. She had nothing concrete to tell him.

He squeezed her hand. “We need to find a safer place for you to stay.”

A safer place than with Hunter? “Why can’t I stay with you?”

“You said he knows where I live. It won’t be safe for any of us there. I’ll have to warn Jen, too. If he knows where I live, there’s no telling what else he knows.”

“Hunter, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t made the clay—”

“No. Don’t think that. It’s your job to identify these women. You can’t let him intimidate you. We’ll take precautions to keep you safe. Without the clay reproductions, we may never learn who killed these women.” He stood and slipped his hands from hers. “I’m going to make some calls. After dinner, we’ll pack. Okay?”

“If this man knows I’m staying with you, he must know where I work.” Panic gripped her hard. “He’ll find me.”

A reassuring lift of his lips made the ache in her head subside. “We’ll let Dr. Ahern know he needs to keep an eye on you. You’ll be safe with him.”

“Okay.” John Ahern was like the father she’d never had. He’d protect her. If Hunter drove her to work, she’d be safe as long as she didn’t leave the building.

“I spoke with one of the men I work with, Cade Brentwood, who owns a remote cabin in Odessa he uses on occasion. He was planning to go there this weekend but said he’d go another time if we need the place. It’ll be a long commute, but no one could follow us out there without me knowing.”

“Is it safe?”

“Don’t let its location fool you. He had a state-of-the-art security system installed.”

Hunter ran a knuckle down her cheek.

The tender touch nearly made the dam of tears break loose. “Thank you.”

“I wanna check if my men were able to trace the call.”

She shook her head. “He wasn’t on the line long enough, was he?”

“I can’t say just yet. It’ll be moot if he used a burner phone.”

Kerry searched her mind for an article she’d read months ago. “Maybe the cell has a GPS? Can’t we locate him from that?” Her voice rose to a screeching pitch.

“It’s not as easy as it’s made out, but we’ll give it a try. If we do find where the signal originated from, I wouldn’t be surprised if the phone’s in a dumpster far from our caller.”

Kerry wrapped her arms around her stomach, the sour sickness in her gut rising in her throat. She covered her mouth, slowly inhaling and exhaling until the feeling faded. What had she gotten herself into?

The oven timer dinged. Dinner. No way could she eat now, but for Melissa’s sake, she’d have to put up a cheerful front.

Melissa came running into the kitchen and plopped down at the table. “I’m ready. Grandpa Hardy made me wash my hands again after I petted the dog.” She held up her clean hands as proof.

Mustering as much composure as she could, Kerry served dinner while Hunter remained out of sight. His tense voice filtered in, but she couldn’t make out the words.

He returned just as she piled food on Melissa’s plate.

If Hunter’s daughter hadn’t asked a million questions, the dinner conversation would have been nil. Thank goodness, Grandpa ran with the ball and satisfied Melissa’s curiosity about life. Kerry wished she could have given Melissa her full attention, because the little girl deserved so much more.

Once everyone finished, Kerry dumped her uneaten meal into the disposal. “Let’s clean up, Melissa, so we can take you home.” She hated how her voice wavered. She could only keep up the upbeat mood for so long.

After she and Melissa finished, Kerry slipped into her bedroom to pack for a longer stay. She hadn’t brought much to Hunter’s on the first go around—wishful thinking on her part that Hunter would catch the guy within the week.

On autopilot, she stuffed her clothes into two suitcases. She refused to think how long she needed to be away from her grandfather.

She dragged herself out to the living room, lugging both her large cases.

Grandpa and Hunter were shaking hands. “Take good care of her, Hunter.”

“I will.”

Kerry kissed her grandfather’s cheek. “I’ll call you.”

Hunter brushed his fingers on her arm. “If you do call, it’ll have to be from work. We don’t want anyone tracing your calls to our new location.”

* * *

After they stopped back at Hunter’s house for his and Melissa’s clothes, they headed to Jen’s. Kerry watched Hunter check the rear view mirror time and time again, his thumb and fingers playing some silent tune on the steering wheel.

Damn. Her confidence melted with each of his glances. On red alert, Kerry too, eyed every driver who passed by. It didn’t matter no one paid attention to them. Her anxiety refused to go away.

They’d driven about fifteen minutes in silence when he reached across the seat and touched her hand. “You going to be okay?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t need to let him know how scared she was. He’d probably insist she stay away from work, which she’d refused to do.

More than ever, Kerry was determined to identify these women—even if it was the last thing she did.

“It’s okay to be afraid, you know. Actually, it’s a good thing. It keeps you on your toes. Keeps you smart.”

The man was a mind reader. Talk about scary. She turned her head toward the side window so he wouldn’t see the tear trickle down her cheek.

Five minutes later, Hunter pulled into his sister’s drive, and cut the engine. “Come on.”

“I can stay out here. Are you going to be long?”

“No, but there’s no telling who’s out there.”

Kerry swiped her cheek dry. She twisted around and checked the back seat. The precious child was sound asleep.

“Do you think Melissa is safe at your sister’s?”

“Jen’s husband is with the Special Forces. He’s on leave for the next month and promised he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.”

He opened the back door of the cruiser and picked up his sleeping daughter as Kerry grabbed Melissa’s small suitcase. His daughter snuggled in Hunter’s arms. Kerry was going to miss the energetic little girl.

Before Hunter’s finger reached the bell, Jen pulled open the door. Worry lined her face. Her gaze shot to Kerry and smiled.

The resemblance between Hunter and his sister was remarkable. Both were tall with a golden skin tone. Each had an athletic build, though Hunter was all muscle and Jen’s weight was more evenly distributed.

“You must be Kerry. Come in.”

For the first time in days, Kerry relaxed.

* * *

Kerry decided Cade’s cabin and the surrounding acreage was probably beautiful, but in the dark, the moss hanging from the trees looked like evil fingers reaching out to grab her. The area gave her the creeps, but she didn’t want to make Hunter’s life more miserable by complaining.

Thank goodness he’d parked in front of the house and not by the large barn that sat off to the side. A bare bulb glared from the top of the large wooden structure, casting spooky shadows on the building.

“What’s in there?” she asked, pointing to the barn. Kerry climbed out of the front seat not letting her gaze wander from the mystery building. She had no idea why she needed to know, but the old place reminded her of Halloween—not the candy part, but the bad part.

“Cade is an old car buff. He restores classics.”

“Oh.”

Not evil at all. The dark must be making her mind imagine all sorts of things. Rather strange for a person who digs up bones for a living. She should be used to creepy things. Kerry inhaled deeply to help her relax. The air was sweet with jasmine, along with a hint of pine.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as she studied the large lake that bordered the property. The half moon glinted off the water and a few well-lit homes winked in the darkness far across the lake.

Hunter said nothing more as he carried his suitcase and one of hers into the house. She followed, lugging the other case.

Once inside, cool air met her. The relief of being out of sight helped calm her.

Hunter pointed to the small galley style kitchen they passed as they entered the cozy living room. “Cade told me he stocked the kitchen already. He made an extra trip up this evening and bought more food. Remind me to buy him a good bottle of scotch.”

“That was very generous of him, especially since you only called him a few hours ago.”

“That’s Cade for you. He’s the most proactive person I know.”

Kerry put her suitcase on the scuffed wooden living room floor and looked around. The furniture was old but functional. One plaid couch, two leather chairs, a coffee table and two bookcases, filled to the brim with books, took up the entire living room. A small television was perched on top of a metal stand.

“You can stay in Cade’s sister’s room. I’ll take Cade’s room.”

“I don’t care if I have to sleep on the floor. Right now, I’m having a hard time standing.”

“Come on. I’ll show you where you can put your things. You can freshen up first if you want. There’s only one bathroom.”

One bathroom? Yikes. That might put a bit of a strain on their relationship.

* * *

Phil leaned back in his office chair and glanced over at Gina talking to Janet Hill, a vice squad detective. He had to hand it to her. During the first three weeks of her internship, Gina hadn’t once mentioned she wanted to quit. He admired her spunk. However, she had yet to be exposed to the nasty side of death.

Harold Reismann, a gawky new recruit, dropped a folder on Phil’s desk. “Lab results from the tool mark found at the gravesite just arrived.”

“Oh yeah? What does it say?”

“I dunno. Boss just asked me to deliver it.”

“You didn’t peek?” Harold already had proven himself to be the department snoop. “You know the case has earned quite a lot press. It isn’t every day we have a possible serial killer on the loose.”

“I know.” Red rushed up his face. “Okay, I did look, but only a little. The report mentioned something about a shovel, but that didn’t seem very earth shattering.”

Gina was convinced the long, smooth mark on the side of #1’s grave belonged to a shovel owned by Willie Wyble. Not that she’d seen Wyble anywhere near a shovel, but her gut told her he’d dug the grave. She wasn’t willing to go so far as to claim he’d killed anybody. She liked him for some reason. It was the whole cheer for the underdog thing, she’d said.

Phil grabbed the envelope from his desk, undid the clasp and read the report. Apparently, the shovel used to dig the grave had a bent corner. Other than that, it had no distinguishing marks. No brands were listed. It sounded like a dead end to him.

“Does it help?” Harold asked, as he shifted his weight from side to side and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Doubt it.” Phil skipped to the next page. “Oh, here we go. They processed a belt loop I found near #3’s grave.”

“Do you think it belonged to the killer?” The guy’s voice rose half an octave.

“No telling. It came from a pair of Wrangler Jeans though.”

“Oh. So nothing real good.”

“Nope.”

Pimply-faced Harold dragged back to the hole he’d come from just as Gina walked over. Phil had been angry about the babysitting job at first, but she was proving herself rather astute. Not to mention hot.

“What’s up?” she asked, leaning a hip on his desk. Her skirt rode up on her thigh.

He’d reached his limit. She was a siren determined to get him in bed, but Phil was no dummy. Sleep with Gina—lose his job. He tugged on her skirt, but the fabric didn’t budge.

“Hey.” She swatted his hand away and leaned over. “You sure you want to go there?” One eyebrow lifted. “Taking my clothes off in public, Detective Tedesco, can be quite dangerous.”

“I was doing quite the opposite.”

Her sly smile almost made him forget about the shovel and the belt loop. “You are incorrigible.”

As he was about to toss back a comment, Phil glanced up at the sound of pounding feet. “Ah, Gina. I think there’s someone’s here to see you.”

Gina’s uncle slipped around some desks and barreled right up to her. Jack Andries tapped her shoulder. Gina turned around and lost the color in her face. She was on her feet in a flash.

“It’s not what you think,” she blurted out.

Jack’s lips curled downward. “We’ll talk later. Right now, I need to speak to Phil. Alone.”