Page 85 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“All right,” she said, wiping her hands carefully. “Since we have an agreement, there’s something I should show you. I was going to take it in to the station tomorrow morning anyway, but…” She lifted a shoulder, then reached into

her purse. She withdrew several sheets of paper, all of which were encased in plastic. “These were delivered to me.”

Reed snapped on the interior light and his blood turned to ice as he read the first note:

TONIGHT.

Then the second:

IT’S DONE

And finally, the third:

WILL THERE BE MORE?

UNTIL THE TWELFTH,

NO ONE CAN BE SURE.

The air froze in his lungs. The notes were from the killer. There wasn’t any doubt. The first two were on the same kind of paper, the same exact handwriting of the notes he’d been receiving. The last communication was obviously an E-mail.

“When did you get these?” he demanded, his entire body tight. The killer had been communicating with Nikki Gillette as well as with him. Why?

“A couple of days ago.” As he listened, Nikki explained about receiving the first note on her windshield and the second in her bed. The third came via E-mail.

Reed was beside himself. Fear clutched his gut. “The maniac was in your house, in your bedroom, and you didn’t go to the police?”

“I am now.”

“But the killer was in your home!”

“I’ve had my locks changed and I’m going to call a security company to place alarms and sensors in the apartment.”

“You need to leave that place. Move. Get away.” His mind was racing, panic driving it. “This is no game, Nikki, the guy’s bad news. Major bad news. How did he get into your apartment?”

She told him that the door hadn’t been forced and gave him a rundown of what had happened when she arrived home, how the gate was unlatched, the cat outside. Immediately, he thought of Roberta Peters’s tabby and how she’d ended up buried alive.

“You should have called the police,” he growled. “By changing the locks you might have inadvertently destroyed evidence! This guy is focused on you, for Christ’s sake. You can’t go back there.”

“Then I’m not safe at work or anywhere else.”

“Probably not.”

“So what? You think I should have round-the-clock police protection?”

“Absolutely.”

“Slow down, Reed,” she said, her hand touching his sleeve. “Are you volunteering for the job?”

“See, you are a smart girl.” He wadded up the rest of his sandwich in its wrapper and threw the leftovers into the cooler. With a flick of his wrist, he fired the ignition.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Back to your place.” He reached for his cell phone. “We’ll meet the crime scene team there and if you insist on staying, I’ll stay with you. Otherwise you’re at my place.”

“Wait a minute—”

He gunned the engine and headed inland. “That’s the way it’s gonna be, Nikki. Do we have a deal?”

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