The slamming of several car doors sounded in front of my house about thirty minutes later as I got dressed. Hopefully, that wasn’t Holden and his team coming to raid the place.

I slipped a shirt over my head and walked to the living room. My mother was sitting on the couch eyeing her bags.

“You okay?”

“I hope I packed enough underwear.”

I laughed at the comment. “They have a washer and dryer if you didn’t.”

She smiled and peered through the window. “Looks like a man convention on the lawn.”

I glanced out and saw Mick having some heated words with Holden. Jake and two other men stood to the side.

Another car pulled up, and Aiden climbed out of the back.

“Good grief,” I mumbled.

I felt like this was more of a prisoner exchange than a hand-off.

“Hey, Mom, let’s go.”

A tall, broad man in a suit breezed past Mick and Holden toward the house with a briefcase. I wasn’t sure whether it was the suit, or the intimidating way he was focused on our door, but he gave me the impression that he was someone that took things very seriously.

He moved with confidence, as if he was used to being in charge. The raised voices behind him didn’t seem to bother him at all. His short, dark hair blew a little in the wind and he reached up to smooth it down, whether it was a nervous habit, or he just liked to look good, I suspected that he liked things orderly.

There was something about him that I wouldn’t say scared me necessarily, but made me think he was someone that I would never want to meet in a dark alley. Even Cade, who was more than intimidating even when he was in a good mood, seemed to have more light in him than this man. I wondered why he carried such a dark image around him and decided it was probably my nervousness about our meeting.

I gathered my mom’s bags and put them near the entrance just as the man arrived at the door. He studied me through the glass and gave me a short nod.

When I opened the door for him he said, “I’m Agent Kennedy. Are you Suzanne?”

“Yes. Nice to meet you.”

He gave me a tight smile and glanced down at the bags on the floor. “When you’re ready we can talk.”

“I’m ready, but I need to get my mom out to Holden. He needs to calm down.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “You keep interesting company.”

I picked up both bags and Agent Kennedy opened the door for us. “They’re Cade’s friends and you already know it.”

He gave me a small smirk. “You’re making the right decision.”

I shrugged, “I know.”

My mom followed me across the lawn and upon seeing our approach, Aiden stepped forward to join the two men barking at each other. They quieted down, and I made all the introductions to my mother who seemed to be enjoying the attention.

Aiden gave her his arm and steered her away to his car where she was also introduced to his driver, who came back for her bags.

After they got in the car, I turned to Holden. “He might not be happy, but he’s not going to sit in jail because of me.”

“Furious I think is the word you’re searching for,” he said tightly.

Mick put a hand on my back and steered me toward the house. I resisted glancing back at Holden, and instead stepped through the front door.

Agent Kennedy was studying some pictures of my family on the wall and turned toward us. I wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but I needed to make sure that all aspects of our agreement had been taken care of before we went any further.

Not entirely sure where to start, I offered bottled waters and surprisingly they both agreed. It seemed like they were at least trying to pretend this was casual.

After we settled, Agent Kennedy opened his briefcase and slid some documents across the table.

“Formalities. I need a signature or two.”

Mick pointed at each of the papers and explained what they were in order.

“Uhm, Agent Kennedy?”

“Wyatt. Wyatt Kennedy.”

“Like Wyatt Earp and John Kennedy all wrapped in one?”

He gave me an amused smile. One that I doubted he expressed much. “Never heard that one before, but I like it.”

I picked up the pen on the table and tapped it against my knee. “And I have a feeling you tell everyone that when they comment on it.”

He glanced over at Mick then back at me. “You’re a smart one. Okay, so we’ll make a deal. You’re honest with me, and I’m honest with you. We need this to go well if our guy is still interested. With the amount of people coming in and out of your house, he might have moved on, but we’ll see.”

“Agreed. Before I sign, I need to know that Cade has been released, and that he’s allowed to work with me. All forgiven and all that. No repercussions later.”

He pulled another few forms out of his case and slid them over. Cade’s signatures were at the bottom and the dates were all today. A release form, and some other agreement.

“He’s released and a little irritated. You can call him to confirm, but his number has changed. He’s Mark from now on to you. Manager and consultant for Gary Reid’s businesses. I would suggest keeping contact minimal to keep up the cover.”

He slid a number over to me and I put it in my contacts under the name of Mark then texted him.

Yep, that was Cade.

I leaned over and started signing the agreements with Mick walking me through each one. He reminded me that he was there as a consultant and Wyatt was my main contact on the case. He was acting very professionally, but knowing that he’d helped Aiden and his group was comforting in a way. He cared what happened here with Cade and me, even if he couldn’t show it outright. Otherwise, I couldn’t imagine why he would have shared the information with the one person he really didn’t seem to get along with. Brock.

When I finished, Wyatt gathered the papers up and put them in his brown leather case. I wondered what other documents he kept in there, and decided it probably wasn’t something I wanted to know.

He laced his fingers together and leaned forward to give me a pointed look. “We need to discuss some details about the case. It’s important that you know what you’re getting into. Cade has most of this information, and since you’re volunteering as a decoy, I want to make it very clear to you that this is not something to treat lightly.”

“Okay. I know we’re dealing with a serial killer.”

He nodded. “A very, very prolific killer. Our guy is smart. I could give you a rundown of general characteristics if you’d like.”

“Sure. Do you think it’s important?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Could save your life. The other woman we were working with wasn’t given a lot of information. I like transparency when we’re working with someone like you. I don’t want you to go off the range thinking that the neighbor next door is a nice guy, when he could be the person we’re searching for.”

I glanced at Mick. I noticed that Agent Kennedy used the word we as if he was lumping the entire investigation into a collective group of people. As far as I knew it had been Mick’s case. But I guessed this was how the FBI thought. Group minds, never an individual.

“I don’t think my neighbor is doing it. She’s a little unlikely.”

“You’re right. But have you ever met anyone that gave you the chills? Maybe ramped up your intuition that they might be off in some way even though they appear perfectly normal?”

“Someone like you for instance?” I asked.

His lips twitched for a second. “Never heard that one.”

“Liar.”

He shrugged. “What I’m getting at is that you need to follow your instincts. If something doesn’t feel right, then let me know. We’ll be watching. This guy is going to be average. Twenty-five to thirty-five. He’s going to have a job that puts him in contact with people. He’ll be observant and copy their behaviors in order to fit in. Think of him as the ultimate chameleon. He travels from time to time, or he may even have a job that requires it.”

“Which could be most of corporate America.”

“It’s possible. I’ve known a lot of CEOs that exhibit sociopathic tendencies. The difference is they apply that to business and our boy has a problem with women. He loves women.”

“Why does he kill them then?”

“He’s keeping them. With every kill, he spends time with them in their last moment. He arranges their bodies thoughtfully. Almost respectfully. But he numbers them,” he said and pointed to his chest right above his heart. “We feel like that’s his way of individualizing each woman. He can remember number two for instance just as much as number six. Each is different with the numbering system.”

My hands fidgeted in my lap. “You said he was prolific, though. I mean when you say that I think of twenty or thirty. If I’m number ten, then he’s just getting started it seems like.”

He glanced at Mick who was quietly leaning back on the couch listening to the conversation. He sat forward a bit more with Wyatt’s non-verbal cue.

Mick met my gaze. “The problem is we haven’t found all the victims, so we think he’s up to nine if he’s calling you number ten. But there’s no way to tell if there are more or not. If he started the numbering system early on, or if this is a new thing. If it’s just nine so far then yes, we’re dealing with someone that’s just getting started.”

“What do you mean, you think, he’s on nine?” I asked.

“We haven’t found a body with that number yet,” he said, while averting his eyes.

Sighing, I replied, “But if all of this is true, that would mean he’s much older, right? More than the numbered victims you’ve found, would say to me that he’s been doing this for years. Why hasn’t he been caught yet?”

“Long story, but suffice to say that each murder, that we know he numbered, didn’t warrant attention necessarily. Bloated bodies swell, and the numbers get obscured. Although several coroners noted the damage was inflicted, they didn’t notice it was a number necessarily.”

I nodded numbly. “Okay.”

“The double murder caught some attention. They were marked five and six very clearly. He’s a clever guy, wanted to introduce himself. Number eight still hasn’t been found yet either. Make sense?”

I frowned, then nodded. “So, he marks them and makes them look nice after death.”

“He gives them his unique signature while they’re alive.” Mick explained.

My eyebrows shot up. “How the hell? I would be kicking and screaming.”

Wyatt elaborated in a no non-sense tone. “He drugs them pretty heavily. The lab tests show that they have high levels of a sedative in their system and it appears that it’s administered over several days. By the time he kills them, he gives them a lethal dose of something different. While they die, he carves them.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered. My stomach churned with disgust.

“The particularly strange thing is he keeps them alive for two days. We’re not sure where. Then he takes them to the place where he’s decided to kill them and dumps the body. Always two. Never any longer. We’re not sure why, but we’re also not sure why he takes a victim every other month. We may never know unless we catch him.”

“Is there anything else?” I asked as I took a sip of water. I looked nervously at him wondering if I wanted to know.

Wyatt sighed. “There’s quite a bit. I will tell you that there's a different element to all of this as well. They’re usually found in long dresses and there is evidence of…handling.”

I stood up suddenly, feeling sick. Fuck. No wonder Cade was so adamant that I didn’t get involved. This was too much.

“I need a minute,” I said and walked quickly to the bathroom.

When I shut the door, I leaned against it for a moment taking huge breaths to calm down. My heart was racing in my chest and I kept swallowing, trying to make sure that my lunch stayed where it needed to.

I took my phone out of my back pocket and texted Cade.

Suzanne: I’m sorry.

Mark: What happened?

Suzanne: They explained.

Mark: Talk tomorrow.

He was pissed. I could tell by the short responses. That was fine, he could stew in it, and hopefully tomorrow he would be over it enough to forget about it. I took another deep breath and let it out slowly. How the hell was I supposed to get through the night sleeping alone in my house?

I splashed some water on my face and toweled it off. The woman in the mirror staring back was looking at me like I was an idiot.

“Fuck, that. You can do this,” I whispered. I better be able to do this. We were all fucked if I didn’t. Cade would go back to jail, and I would be relocated to who the hell knew where with my mom. It didn’t make it any easier to live with the choice I’d made.

My heart clenched when I thought of my mom and Cade. I needed them both. There was no other choice but to do this.

I took another deep breath and headed back to the living room. The two agents were talking about something and went silent as I entered.

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

Mick’s face changed in a subtle way as he watched me. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but it almost seemed like a measure of respect.

Wyatt gave me a short nod. “We’re setting up surveillance on Rounders. All you need to do is go to work tomorrow.”

I chewed on my lip for a minute. “You said with as many people that are coming and going from the house that he might get scared off. Are you sure he hasn’t already given up?”

Mick gave me a soft look. “Believe me, he’s thinking about you, Suzanne. He already thinks he loves you. You’re his current obsession. He’ll show. And since this guy is in a month where we know he’s feeling his urge to reach out, he might be travelling around quite a bit. He might not have seen anything yet.”

I let out a huge breath.

Mick stood up and walked around the couch toward me. “Listen, you’re going to have every eye and ear on you twenty-four seven. If Wyatt isn’t here, you’ll still have men on you. You just won’t see them. And don’t look for them.”

Wyatt grabbed his case and stood up as well. “A few things. Our boy hates to see women wearing very little clothing in public. He may have some religious thing going on. We’re not sure yet. So, show some skin. That might have been partially why you were targeted in the first place.”

“What would be the other factor?”

“You’re a redheaded waitress. You serve. He might be looking for someone to serve him, except in a very docile way.”

Mick reached out and pat my shoulder. “Just do what you do. Don’t step outside the bar with anyone unless it’s with Cade. Or, of course, one of us. We’ll have people outside, but we can’t have them close enough to tip him off.”

“You could come in there. He won’t know you.”

Mick walked to the door and pushed it open. “You know I can’t, but I’ll be watching. You’ll be fine.”

I stared at him. “What? No promises?”

Glancing back at me, he shook his head. “I don’t make promises.”

Wyatt offered his hand and shook mine. When he stepped back he flipped my hand over and placed a small bracelet in my palm.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Wear it all the time. Don’t take it off, not even in the shower. If anyone asks what it is, it has the letter L and S on it and a date. Tell them it’s from your mom for a vacation you took last year.”

“Any significance?”

“None really, but he likes numbers. It also has a chip in it to track your location.”

Nodding, I put it on and inspected it for a moment. If it wasn’t such a shitty situation, it might have been nice.

Wyatt spoke when he reached the door. “I’m not the most well-liked person sometimes, but I’ve seen some really ugly things in my life, Suzanne. Just follow the instructions we give you, and come to me if you have any issues. I haven’t lost anyone yet and I don’t plan to now.”

His comment seemed strange until I thought back on Cade’s comment that Mick had “lost” someone. I wondered if Mick had lost anyone prior to this case. If not, it made me wonder if this killer was just that smart.

After he left, I closed the door and locked it. I checked and made sure all the windows were locked. Then I went to the fridge with my baseball bat in hand and got out the ice-cream. This was a seriously shitty day.