Page 56 of Aftermath
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“Keys,”I said, holding out my hand.
We’d taken an unexpected detour back to Len’s apartment.
I tried not to show how much the call had shaken me. A trained FBI agent should have a better handle on his emotions, be able to put aside how he feels and act rationally in the face of a threat. Instead, my mind was racing, and I hadn’t stopped replaying the call.
Len was packing to stay with me until I was able to say with certainty her apartment was safe again. I was not taking no for an answer.
Fine. Maybe I would have, because I wasn’t going to kidnap her and keep her hostage.
But I would have fought with everything I had to convince her to change her mind. I was thankful when she’d barely argued. It was almost too easy, but I saw the way Len’s face paled at the call. Whether she’d admit it or not, it’d gotten to her as well.
Len poked her head out of the room and tossed keys at me. I barely had time to register it and catch them.
She ushered her cats into little carriers she had for them. I picked up one and realized I was carrying Birdie. She meowed up at me, and I gave her a slight smile. No one could convince me cats weren’t too smart for their own good.
It didn’t take long before we were back at Len’s car. This time, I had the keys and jumped into the driver’s seat before she could protest. She safely placed both cats in the backseat and made sure they were secure. I heard her mutter something about my driving skills to the felines before she put her seat back up and join me in the front.
I drove through town, and it took us a bit longer to get to the rental, having to sit in the small town’s tourist traffic. It was Saturday, which meant many tourists were leaving and just as many were coming into town.
Len kept tapping her fingers on the center console at every stop, the small sound pulling my attention away from the road. I tried to drown it out, but I couldn’t ignore her growing anxiety.
It worked once before, which meant it could work again.
I reached out to place my right hand on hers. “We’ll find them,” I promised her.
“You can’t possibly know that,” she said.
“I have an IQ higher than anyone else in the FBI. I’ve won more awards than any other agent my age and have been on more cases. I memorize every fact I see and read. So listen to me when I promise you, we will find them. I won’t leave until I do,” I assured her.
Her fingers stopped fidgeting under my touch, and after a second, she pulled her hand away. I let her. It had only been to calm her down, an easy strategy used to bring someone back to reality, nothing more.
We sat in silence the rest of the ride until we made it to the rental house.
More colorful flowers bloomed in the front yard, and I watched Len stare out into the back as she got out of the car. I could hear the waves crashing against the cliffside.
“You coming?” I asked Len, her eyes distant as she stared out into the water.
“In a second,” she said softly.
I followed her gaze and watched the waves as they rolled. Salty air reached us easily this close, its presence somehow calming. Off to the left, I spotted a tall, white lighthouse in my peripheral vision. I hadn’t noticed it the first day, but I’d also been distracted when I arrived.
Len’s movement snapped my attention back to her. She grabbed the cats out of the back of the convertible and made her way toward the house. I grabbed the large duffel bag she packed and carried it inside.
“You can take the room, and I’ll stay in the living room,” I offered.
She looked like she was about to argue but decided against it. Dark half circles sat under her eyes, and I noticed just how worn down she’d become. Len barely got any sleep the night before, and I dragged her around town. Beyond that, she must’ve been mentally exhausted. The Coastal Killer was back, and the killing would most likely start again.
My gut clenched, remembering just how gruesome and gory each kill had been the first time around. Most of the victims were left cut to bits, barely recognizable, and a ring shoved down their throat.
I’d seen some horrible things in the field, but this, by far, was one of the worst.
I carried Len’s bag up to the room and quickly packed my stuff into my suitcase to bring back downstairs with me. Len walked into the room behind me.
“Why don’t you rest?” I suggested. “You didn’t sleep well.”
