Page 154 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

Christmas was only a few days away and Nikki hadn’t yet put up a single strand of lights, nor had she found a little tree to dress up her apartment. It would be a difficult season this year, without her father, with her mother still recovering.

It was Saturday and she felt lazy, finishing her first cup of the day. Jennings was curled on his perch upon the bookcase, Mikado at Nikki’s feet and the monitor of her computer screen said nothing but Page One.

The beginning of her novel.

About the Grave Robber, a tortured soul who had named himself The Survivor, according to the police. Joey Legittel, a boy who had suffered at the hands of Chevalier before snapping and killing his family and framing the man who had tormented him. From there it had been foster homes and an adulthood that had been filled with no relationships and piecemeal jobs usually at video stores where he had purchased the movies of vengeance.

It was all so horrid. He’d even realized that his last name was an acronym for Gillette and had scribbled her name and his all over his scarred table where he’d kept a scrapbook of the trial.

Now, the exterior steps squeaked and Mikado began to bark and run to the door. “I think it’s someone you know,” Nikki said just as a sharp rap on the door caused the dog to go into conniptions.

Her pulse quickened as she scraped back her chair. The cat stretched as if bored and Mikado twirled crazily.

After rescuing her from the coffin, Reed had held her close and insisted she go to the hospital. For most of the night he’d been with her, at her bedside, only taking time off to fill out reports or converse with the other cops. His own wound had been virtually ignored.

The Grave Robber was no more.

He’d died that night. Morrisette had put him away before he’d had the chance to kill Reed with the very knife that he’d used to butcher his family twelve years before, a knife he’d somehow hidden, then retrieved and held in a drawer in the lair the police had found, a small dugout room with recording equipment, televisions, movies, and a bloodstained bureau wherein underwear from his victims had been stashed. The lair was in the home of an elderly woman who’d paid him to house-sit. He had barely used the rest of the huge manor deep in the heart of Savannah. But now he was dead. After having taken so many lives. Including Simone’s.

Casting off the brutal memories, Nikki reached the door and pulled it open.

Clean shaven, in jeans and a sweater, Reed stood on her porch. He was juggling two cups of coffee and a bag of pastries and his eyes lighted as he spied her. “Mornin’,” he drawled.

Mikado launched himself at Reed’s legs and Jennings shot outside, escaping.

“Back at ya, Reed.” Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips across his beard-roughened cheek. “Come on in. What brings you up here?” she teased.

“Just doin’ my duty, ma’am,” he drawled.

“My ass.”

“And a fine one it is.” Lifting a dark eyebrow he took an exaggerated look at her bottom though she was completely covered in a thick bathrobe.

“Always nice to know.” She took the sack and cups of coffee from him so that he could pet the dog for a few minutes as she cut up the pastries—a cinnamon roll and honey drizzled croissant.

“So, how are you, really?” He was suddenly serious. “I know it’s been a couple of weeks, but you haven’t really said.”

Which was true. Since the murders they’d kept conversation between them light. Teasing. Getting to know each other.

“Traumatized, of course, but I think I’ll survive.” Hearing her words, she cringed inwardly. Joey Legittel had also survived—once. Only to end up a serial killer who’d terrorized her and this town.

“And your mom?”

“She went home two days ago, but a nurse stops in daily and I visit every day. So do Lily and Kyle.” Nikki sighed and leaned a hip against the counter. “I don’t know if Mom will ever be right. She saw such horror and she was frail to begin with. Lily and Phee, my niece, plan to move into the house for a while, and Sandra’s there to help out with the cooking and cleaning, so we’ll see how it goes. It’ll take time.”

She wiped the knife clean with her fingers. “So, your theory is that Joey Legittel not only killed Chevalier, but his mother, sister and brother as well because they didn’t protect him.”

“Yep. He was the youngest and thought everyone had sold him out. He was beaten and forced to do unthinkable acts as well as have them performed on him. With members of his family. The only way to free himself from Chevalier was to set him up. So he killed all his family, and tromped through the blood in Chevalier’s boots, even managed to slice his own arms, legs and shoulder without hitting anything vital and somehow hid the weapon, then claimed Chevalier was to blame.”

“But to kill your own mother, and your siblings.” Nikki felt a chill as cold as death.

“They were the enemy. They didn’t protect him. He contacted me, sent me up to Dahlonega to get my attention and throw us off. I was the junior detective who had collared Chevalier, but I didn’t have enough evidence to send him to Death Row. Neither did your dad or the other jurors.”

“And he accused me of nearly causing a mistrial.”

“Right.

“So, does this mean you and Morrisette get big promotions for exposing him?” She placed the plates on her small table and shoved her laptop to one side.

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