Ihadnobusinesssittingacross from a serial killer, but I needed answers only he could give me.
The room was cold and smelled of stale sweat and body odor. I’d had to call in a few favors with the prosecutor to get this meeting. Amos Anderson wasn’t really allowed visitors.
When he looked at me, I forced my muscles not to tense. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I was at all uncomfortable.
Two guards stood against the wall behind him, looking bored. I hadn’t spoken face-to-face with the killer in over a year. He used to contact me regularly, and at the time, I humored him, curious as to what he might want with me.
When it was clear he wanted nothing more than to play with me, I’d ended my side of the communication. My entire being revolted at the idea of sitting here, but it was necessary.
“Doctor Ramsey,” Amos purred.
I held completely still, face impassive.
“It’s been too long since you’ve come to see me.”
I ignored the comment. It had been three days since Quinn’s attack. Detective Whize had very few leads. There were no security cameras at the library. No evidence at the scene.
Jake had been questioned, but there was nothing physically connecting him to the crime—unless he confessed, and he hadn’t.
The trail was going cold, and it was eating me alive.
So, I went to the only person in Ember Hollow who might know something, and the one I least wanted to see.
“I need to ask you some questions,” I said, my tone as cold as the cinderblock room.
His expression went stony. “Oh?” he said with forced indifference.
“It seems your counsel is having a hard time being welcomed into the town.”
“My counsel?” The arch of his brow twitched. “You mean Ms. Carpenter?” He lifted a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “She’s always seemed perfectly reasonable to me. A bit…rigid, perhaps, but you can’t deny she’s quite the beauty.”
I fisted my hands under the table. I hated him even speaking about her.
The fact that he saw her privately every week made me sick. He was the one who wanted her to stay in town until the trial. He’d personally requested that she meet with him alone. That couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Someone attacked her,” I said bluntly, trying to gauge his reaction. He didn’t give much away, which in itself told me something. He had been prepared for that. He had known.
“Attacked?” he echoed, forcing a frown.
“Let’s stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about,” I snapped. “You wanted her here. You know what this town thinks of you. She’s seen as an extension of you, and the tensions have been high since the moment she set foot in Ember Hollow.”
His lips curled over his white teeth. “It’s hardly my fault how the town treats her.” He looked around the room. “After all, I’ve been stuck in here. You can’t blame me for wanting to see a pretty face every week, can you?”
“Do you know who hurt her?” I snarled, unwilling to engage in the games he wanted to play.
The killer’s eyes sparked. I couldn’t tell whether it was anger igniting or humor.
“Doctor Ramsey.” He tsked, lifting his shackled wrists. “What makes you think I could have anything to do with this attack? On my own counsel, no less?” He shook his head. “That makes no sense.”
“Kidnapping women to murder them and mutilating their bodies makes no sense either. And yet, you did that.”
“Accusation is not guilt, Doctor.” He sneered. “That is something Ms. Carpenter will defend with her life, I’d wager.”
I shot him a glare. “She won’t be dying for you,” I spat.
His eyebrow twitched again, and he leaned forward. “My, my,” he said, gliding his tongue over his teeth. “Have you caught feelings for the young counselor, Doctor?”
“No.” But I said the word too quickly, making me sound defensive.
