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The line to the funeral parlor rings, filling the foyer with the shrill jangling of the downstairs phone. I shriek and nearly leap out of my skin.

It’s him, I think, staring at the phone in the foyer like it’s a venomous snake. It’s been there for years, and I always thought of it as a decoration. But it’s hooked to the same line that goes to my office.

I could let it go to voicemail. Ishouldlet it go to voicemail, just like Ishouldhave called the police as soon as I got those pictures. But how the hell was I going to explain the part about the guard dog? Or about getting away the first time?

No, I made that decision weeks ago, when Nameless killed my attacker, and I just let him go. When Ifuckedhim instead of turning him in.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I snatch up the phone and press the receiver to my ear. The line buzzes.

“Hello?” I whisper.

“Abilene? Is that you?”

It’s a normal voice. Not modulated or distorted. Male, crisp, professional.

“Yes.” I straighten my spine and try to calm my breathing. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Sorry, the line sounded weird for a second there. This is Rick Contreras, by the way.”

The detective from Olivia’s case. I hold my breath, waiting for him to say it.

“I’m afraid we had another murder.”

Blood pounds in my ears. I don’t know how to act normally about this. How to act like I didn’t know it already happened. I swallow.

“Is it—” My voice wobbles. “Is it like Olivia Pearce?”

“Yes,” Rick says gently. “Abilene, I need you to listen to me. He went after Heather Staunton. We found her this morning. Set up on Pier Fourteen.”

I close my eyes, my heart hammering up in my throat. Fuck. The same place Nameless left Julian Bernet. Another fucking message, as clear as the faxes I received this morning.

Nausea swirls around in my stomach, and I know Rick is waiting for my reaction.

“No,” I whisper, hoping to god I sound convincing. “No, that can’t be?—”

“I’m afraid it is.” Rick clears his throat. “Abilene, one murder is a tragedy. Two, like this, is a pattern. And I’m worried about your safety.”

I stare at the empty foyer, imagining the dark lump of my attacker’s body on the floor. How Nameless pulled off his stocking, and it was no one. A stranger.

I thought I was safe.

I was so, so stupid.

“Yes, I can’t disagree,” I say carefully.

“That being said,” Rick continues, “you know this is a joint investigation. With the Magnolia department. And the Rosado Sheriff’s Department.”

I close my eyes.

“Kaplan wants me to bring you in. Just to talk.”

I laugh, sharp and shrill. “Why? Does he think I fucking did this?”

“He’s an asshole,” Rick says. “That’s why. As far as I’m concerned, your statement is a formality. If you don’t want to come in, and I don’t really blame you, I’ll send someone over there to you. You need a security detail anyway.”

“That’s not necessary,” I spit out—too quickly. The last thing I want is some bumbling police officer sitting outside my house when Nameless comes around tonight.He’smy security detail.

Rick sighs. “Are you sure?”