Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Stop,” I say. “Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear about a woman unless she’s a suspect. Is she?”
“No. No, but there were two different men. Tom and Francis, and yes, I know Francis is a woman’s name, but he’s a he.”
“Text me the information.” A white van pulls up, which I know is an unmarked NYPD van. “Let’s get this done.”
It’s not long before we’re inside, with lights blasting through the place, and teams running prints, shooting photos, and gathering evidence. I’m inside about half an hour when Kane sends me a text: I’m at the diner when you’re done. I’m not sure why I’m uncomfortable with him being down there. I’m the one who suggested he become bait, but I wasn’t really serious. Kane isn’t exactly bait material.
He’s Kane fucking Mendez.
He’s the one you fear, not the other way around.
I shake off my weird feeling, and walk the building, a slow inspection of each room. It takes me a good two hours, and nothing catches my attention. There are simply no signs of life. Even the projector is covered in dust. It’s midnight, and I’m waiting to get into one final room on the upper level the team has had issues unlocking.
I spent the wait time in a storage room, scanning old film reel labels and shooting photos for myself, when the forensics team already has their own. My thought is that there might be some kind of message coded in the titles, but they aren’t even horror movies. I’ve still got a couple titles to go when Rollins enters the room. “Lilah, you need to come see what we found upstairs.”
“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m still working here.”
“Now, Lilah.”
The urgency in his voice grabs me, and when he turns away, I follow. He leads me up the stairs to the room that they’d been trying to unlock. He motions for me to enter. I frown at his drama—I mean holy hell, just tell me what you found—but I step into the room. That’s when I go cold, not at the dozen or so naked dolls hanging from the ceiling, but at the open window, and photos all over the wall. They’re all Kane sitting at the diner, talking on the phone, drinking coffee, working on his computer. They’re right now, present time, because Kane didn’t get back to the diner until we were inside. The killer boldly came in the window, while we were here, and left these for me.
I grab my phone, punch in Kane’s number and it goes to voicemail. He’s on his call.
I turn and start running.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I never stop running.
I exit the theater, and punch Jay’s auto-dial. I’m already at the end of the block when he answers. “Lilah?”
“Do you have eyes on Kane?”
“Yes. Why?”
Relief washes over me, but I can’t come down from the fear for Kane. “Do not take your eyes off him. Do not.” I hang up, adrenaline piercing every part of my body. The moment the diner is in view is like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I don’t even think about how I react to it. I bum-rush the door, push past a couple people crowding the entry, and halt when I have eyes on Kane.
I’m panting, holding the “Seat yourself” sign, when all eyes turn to me. Kane is in the rear of the diner, facing the door, when he looks up from his call and finds me there like that. His eyes narrow, concern flooding their depths, and apparently, he doesn’t care about the prince he’s talking to. He disconnects.
He’s in front of me in about ten seconds.
“What happened?”
My hands go to his sides, and I hold onto him. “You’re okay.”
“What does that mean?”
“Please, get your things and leave this diner, and never, ever come back.”
Calvin appears beside us. “Is everything okay?”
Jay joins us as well, and says, “What’s happening?”
“We just need to leave,” I say. “Where’s your wallet? Pay the man.”
Kane catches my hand, and says, “Come with me.” He leads me outside and away from the door, his hands on my shoulders. “You don’t run away. You don’t tell me to run away. What is going on?”
“The killer was taking pictures of you when you were working. He snuck into the theater and splattered the wall with them. And there were these naked dolls hanging from the ceiling.”
“It’s pictures, Lilah. Deep breath, bella. You are overreacting, and that’s what he wants.”
“I’m not fucking overreacting!” I shove him but he doesn’t budge. “You’re underreacting. Stop acting so damn invincible, you asshole.”
Kane just looks at me, his dark eyes pressing on me, compelling me to return to myself, and damn it, and damn him. Except, he’s right. I’m not myself. “I might still be affected by your chopper going down.”