Page 87 of Return Ticket

He could just make out the old Victorian that Gabriella lived in through the fog.

Mr. Rodney’s ground floor flat was in darkness, but Gabriella’s flat, two floors up in the eaves, was still lit with a warm glow.

He leaned against the fence, looking up at it, until the sound of footsteps drew his attention. He heard the faint click of dog’s nails, and an elderly man walking a Jack Russell appeared like an apparition. The man drew back sharply in surprise at the sight of him standing still on the pavement, then gave an embarrassed nod as he continued on, shooting James a few suspicious side glances.

The light in Gabriella’s flat went out suddenly, and James was left standing in darkness.

Tanner was nowhere in sight, and he’d caught a few glimpses of Gabriella moving around before the lights went out, and she was alone.

He waited another minute, listening, sipping the last of his coffee, but eventually he turned and headed back to the main road.

To wait for a killer instead.

* * *

Gabriella rose up out of the hot bath, flushed and with wrinkled fingers. She seldom spent long in the tub, but tonight she had looked forward to a good soak.

The fog had chilled her to the bone, and the water made her feel warm again.

She pulled on her pajamas—red and white striped flannel pants and a red button up top that had stripes on the cuffs—a present from Dominique for her birthday in June. Dominique had been open about buying them in the end of spring sales, and this was the first time the weather had been cool enough for Gabriella to wear them.

They were almost too warm after the heat of her bath, so she didn’t put her dressing gown on over the top as she cleaned the bath. She shared the bathroom with Jerome, but she’d checked that he wasn’t home before she took her time.

She had thought tonight would end differently.

Before the fog had stopped the traffic and forced them out on foot, she had been half nervous, half excited to see whether James would stay over.

She wanted him to, but years of conditioning by her conservative family made it a bigger step for her than it seemed to be for others.

Liz, for example, had no qualms.

She was glad to be away from Melbourne, away from the stifling, watchful eye of aunts, uncles and family friends that never seemed to give her a moment of privacy.

She had privacy here, and she reveled in it.

When this killer was caught, she would invite James over, and make it clear what she meant by that.

She didn’t know now if the flush on her cheeks was from the bath or her thoughts as she gave the tub a final rinse and gathered up her toiletries.

She stepped out into the narrow hall that separated her flat from Jerome’s, reached back into the bathroom to switch off the light, and then paused, frowning, when she was enveloped in darkness. The light that illuminated the hallway had blown.

She shrugged and reached back into the bathroom again to switch the light back on, running her fingers over the wall to find it in the darkness.

Suddenly she was pressed against the doorjamb, the corner of the wooden frame digging into her collarbone.

“Be very quiet.”

Tanner. She could smell his strong cologne.

She had been so careful, switching off the light in her flat before she’d gone to take her bath, making sure to lock her flat door behind her.

And he’d been waiting outside the bathroom all this time.

The agony of the sharp edge pressing into her chest warred with her fear.

“How on earth do you think this will help you?” she asked on a wheeze as at last he pulled her back against his chest.

The relief from the pain made her lightheaded.

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