Releasing a slow breath, I stared up at the clock on his kitchen wall. Shouldn’t he be back by now? At least five hours had passed.
As if I’d conjured him, I heard the lock on the front door turn and I rushed out into the living room to see Theo enter the flat. His expression was drawn, his shoulders hunched with exhaustion as he closed the door behind him.
He looked haunted.
I rushed across the room and pulled him close. His arms bound tightly around me as he buried his head in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply.
We didn’t say anything for what felt like a long time. Eventually, Theo released me, stroking a thumb tenderly over my cheekbone.
“What happened?” I finally asked.
Stepping back, Theo shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the hooks by the door. “They have a primary suspect.”
My heart jumped. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
Theo scrubbed a hand down his face, his fingers scratching over his stubbly cheeks. “Hopefully. His name is Quinn Gray. They found his DNA on the skirt belonging to Helen, the last victim. He’s in the system for stalking a girl at university a few years back. His parents died in a car accident when he was eighteen. It was not seen as suspicious at the time. He stalked that girl a few years after the accident, but she moved abroad after graduation, so she, thankfully, escaped him.”
“What happens now?”
“The police are gearing up to release a statement. There will be a manhunt for Gray. And we need to find him fast because …” Theo squeezed his eyes closed, his expression drawn. Whenhe opened them, there was that haunted look again. “Sarah, I spoke with their team of analysts. They told me what their expert psychologist thinks, and it lines up with the thoughts I shared with DCI English. The last two victims in my show were the father and the stepmother. Gray has neither, but he will find an alternative to fit the sick narrative he’s playing out. And they—we—need to figure out who he might hurt next.”
My stomach twisted with dread. “We? Theo … you know this isn’t up to you?”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “I wish that were true. But I feel responsible for flipping some fucking switch in this bastard. Sarah … you didn’t see what I saw today. The horror and the pain … and it was so eerily similar toKing’s Valley. Seeing that inflicted on real women, human beings with lives and families …”
“Sweetheart,” I whispered, reaching for him.
He hugged me hard again. “We have to find him.”
I was afraid we did. I was afraid if Theo didn’t have some part in bringing Quinn Gray down, he’d never let go of the guilt.
Thirty-Three
THEO
The shock of my visit to police headquarters had worn off a little. Now that Quinn Gray’s name was out there and the public knew who he was, I had relaxed marginally. It was hard to hide these days, and I hoped someone would see him and call the police. The public rage toward him was terrifying but ultimately useful in this case.
People wanted him caught. They were tired of being scared.
I wanted it over. For the victims’ families, for the public, for myself, and Sarah.
I’d just signed the contract on the deal for Juno McLeod and sent it to Sarah for completion. Colleen was gearing up to sell the idea to Skylark with the actor Olivia Jones attached to play the role of Juno. Just a few short months ago, I was impatient to get to this point, and now I was nauseated. It didn’t feel right to put a crime series into production that followed a subplot about another serial killer.
But I couldn’t disappoint Sarah, and this was my job.
Sarah stirred beside me in bed and I sat up, swinging my legs out, elbows braced on my knees, head buried in my hands.
Gentle fingertips skimmed my naked back. “Are you all right?”
I couldn’t voice my doubts aloud. I … I’d already let her down enough. So much so, she still couldn’t bloody well tell me she loved me.
Instead, I surprised even myself by announcing, “I think it’s time to face my father.”
At her silence, I glanced over my shoulder. She stared up at me, sleep-rumpled and wide-eyed. “Are you sure?”
It was as good a distraction as any.
Moreover, I was afraid. I was afraid if I didn’t try to let go of my bitterness toward the old man that Sarah was right. I’d eventually fuck up what was between us because of it. And what she and I had was the only bloody thing holding me together right now.
