Page 81 of Daddy's Arms

“Um, yes. I…came in to catch up on some paperwork.”

“Why are you calling me on your cell?”

“I have them on the office line. They’re sitting in the driveway, waiting on someone.”

“Fuck! Seriously? I have an open house; I can’t meet them now.” Who the hell called on a Sunday, anyway?

“I’m sorry, but they said it has to be today,” MaryAnn squeaked out.

“Okay. Okay.” Closing her eyes, Olivia focused on the problem at hand. “It’s definitely a couple? Did you speak to the wife?”

“Um, yes?”

“Good. Let them know I’m ten minutes away. Then, call James and let him know where I’m headed and see if he can’t find someone to meet me there.” James was going to have her ass, but this was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“O-okay.”

“Thanks, MaryAnn. I appreciate all the hard work you do for us.”

She ended the call, cutting off MaryAnn’s stuttering and grabbed her purse. The Petersons’ place was just a few neighborhoods over, so she was there under the ten-minute mark. A somewhat battered SUV was parked in the driveway, and a tall man climbed out when she pulled up beside it.

Unease pooled in her belly, but she chided herself for passing judgment based on the fact that they drove an older car.Lots of people keep the same car for years, Liv. Don’t be a snob.

Putting on her best realtor smile, she hopped out of her car. “Good afternoon! I’m Olivia Monroe.”

The man smiled, and while it was perfectly charming with no hint of malice, she couldn’t seem to shake that uneasy feeling as he shook her hand. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Nathaniel Cooke. Everyone calls me Nate.”

“Well, Nate, it’s nice to meet you.” Leaning around him, she searched the interior of the car. “Is your wife with you?”

“Oh, no, it’s just me.” Again with the perfect, charming smile that made Olivia’s stomach turn.

“I see. Will she be joining us?”

“No, she’s out of town on business. I’m actually leaving in an hour to meet her, which is why I wanted to go ahead and see the house. I really think it’s perfect for us.”

What the hell, MaryAnn?“Well, it might be better to wait until your wife can tour the house as well, don’t you think?”

The charming smile cranked up a notch, but Olivia couldn’t help but think it made him look a little crazy. “My wife trusts my opinion, Mrs. Monroe. I would like to see the house now.”

Taking a step backward, Olivia froze when he shifted and the sunlight bounced off the barrel of the gun he’d stashed beneath his long coat. Ice skittered up her spine. The smile he wore now had lost all of its fake charm, revealing the deranged killer underneath.

“We should go inside, Olivia. People will start to talk if we linger.”

Her mind raced as she searched for some way to get out of this mess she’d landed herself in. She could scream, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t just shoot her and leave. She could fight, but he had a good foot in height and at least fifty pounds on her.

Which really only left her with one option. Giving him a curt nod, she turned and walked up the driveway, praying he had enough sense to wait until they were inside to kill her. If she could stall long enough, someone would show up. Probably James himself, once MaryAnn told him she’d gone to the house alone.

At the front door, she gathered her courage and turned to face him. “Why are you doing this?” Even if he killed her today, she at least wanted to know that much first.

“We can talk about it inside. Open the door.”

Rapidly running out of options, she punched in the code for the front door. It swung open, and Olivia nearly fell to her knees. The last shred of hope she’d clung to slipped through her fingers.

There in the entryway, looking even more nervous than usual, stood MaryAnn.

“Olivia Jane,I swear to God if you don’t answer your phone or text me back in the next five minutes, sitting comfortably will be a fond memory. Call me.Now.”

Doing his best to ignore the dread forming in the pit of his stomach, James hit the button to end the call. It was the fifth time he’d called her in the last twenty minutes, and the third voicemail he’d left.

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