Page 17 of He Sees You
He's up and at the window instantly, hand moving to his service weapon.
The gesture is so automatic, so practiced, that my chest tightens.
How long has he been this afraid?
"Probably just a hiker," he mutters, but he's already pulling out his phone. "Johnson? Yeah, check the tree line behind my house. Fresh tracks... No, she just noticed them... Right."
The sedan down the road starts up, and I catch a glimpse of a young officer I don't recognize heading toward our backyard.
"Protection detail?" I guess.
"Just a precaution."
"Because of the murders?"
He turns from the window, and for the first time, I see real fear in his eyes. "Because the last victim had a page from one of your books with her."
The coffee mug slips from my hand, shattering on the worn linoleum.
Hot coffee spreads across the floor like blood.
"What?"
"First page of your first novel. Laminated, placed under her hands like—like some kind of offering." He grabs paper towels, starts cleaning up my mess with the efficiency of someone used to dealing with chaos. "That's why I didn't want you coming home."
My mind races. Someone's reading my work. Someone who kills.
"Which page exactly?"
"Celeste—"
"Whichpage?"
He sighs. "The one where your heroine meets the villain. The part about him looking at her like the universe had already decided they belonged together."
I remember writing that line.
Middle of the night, halfway through a bottle of wine, trying to capture that feeling of inevitable doom disguised as destiny.
Now someone's turned it into a crime scene.
"I need to see the file."
"Absolutely not."
"Dad—"
"You're here to write, not play detective." He throws the coffee-soaked towels in the trash. "Promise me you'll stay out of this."
I cross my fingers behind my back, a childish gesture he taught me to never use. "Promise."
He doesn't believe me, but Officer Johnson appears at the back door before he can press the issue.
"Tracks lead into the woods, Sheriff. Lost them about thirty yards in. Looks like size eleven, maybe twelve. Male, based on the stride."
"Recent?"
"Within the last hour."
