“You did the best you could.”
“No. He outsmarted me. I should have done better.”
I knew it might be out of bounds, but I took a chance. “What was she like, Nancy?”
He sucked in a long breath. “She was once the light of my life.” A second tear started down his cheek and he wiped it away. “Once.”
When he didn’t say any more, I decided it was time for me to zip my big mouth. This was a depressing subject for both of us. I looked out the window at the dreary buildings in this part of town.
Switching gears, I mentally went through my wardrobe to decide what I’d wear for my first date with Zane.
He’d said to dress up.
A first date called for a little black dress, but I didn’t own one. I had one that was gray with a deep scoop neckline. I’d gotten it when I thought I’d apply for a job tending bar. It was shockingly short. Perfect for getting tips tending bar, but would it be appropriate for wherever he was taking me?
Zane and Peyton—I liked the sound of that. Wait a minute, should I change back to using my legal name of Leighton? I didn’t know what the procedures were in California for legally changing my name to Peyton.
But then I’d be Peyton Clarke. Did I like that? It would be symbolic of my moving on to a new stage in my life, and I wouldn’t have to explain to people the whole change my name to run away from a killer thing.
Would Zane like it? He was used to it, which was a plus.
At least we had something normal to talk about over lunch. Zane had said the strangler was in my past and I had to remember that.
As we passed a Thai restaurant, I wondered where he would take me tonight. Dinner made sense, or would he choose something corny like bowling? No, you didn’t dress up for bowling.
Even though Zane and I had made love, the idea of a mysterious first date still sent a tingle up my spine. And, the fact that he’d suggested the date was sweet. My life really had taken a turn in the right direction for a change.
Zane was perfect, and things were going so well now, I might wear out my smiling muscles today.
The car bumped as we turned into a parking lot, and I stopped day-dreaming.
The building was dingy. O’Connor drove us around the side to the back of the building.
The parking area in back was empty except for two other cars.
And except for a homeless guy taking a leak against the back fence. No, this was not the best part of town.
Looking around, something didn’t compute. “Zane said we need to go to LAPD for the interview.” I felt my heart beat faster.
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know my way around this city. I just go where they tell me.”
He turned off the car, and we both got out.
A wheel squeaked as the homeless guy pushed his cart along the back.
O’Connor pulled out a phone, checked it and shrugged. “This is the address they sent me.”
Something was wrong. He’d said he’d forgotten his phone. “Can I borrow your phone? I need to call Zane.”
Instead of an answer, he urged me toward the rusty metal door.
“No.” I stopped. This didn’t feel right.
The door opened.
Bile rose in my throat as I recognized the hulking man who emerged. “We meet again, sweet thing.” It was Buzzcut, one of my attackers from that first night.
I backed away. “We have to go.” Something was terribly wrong.
