“It appears you have a letter from Billy Poe.”
CHAPTER15
LONG AFTERDETECTIVEHALL LEFTwith the letter, Lydia sat at the table, numb. No,numbwasn’t an adequate description. A maelstrom of emotions—fury, guilt, grief, fear, and more she couldn’t put names to—twisted and knotted her insides so tightly that she doubted she’d ever eat again.
Marcus scooted the cup of tea she’d shoved aside back in front of her. “At least drink this. Your father said it would help.”
More like send her into oblivion. But she didn’t deserve that. No, she deserved this misery. For all her life, she would remember Billy Poe’s words. They were seared onto her memory like a cattle brand.
My dearest Lydia,
When I first read “Shadow in the Night,” I knew we had something special. With your pen and my sword, we can right the wrongs of Cincinnati. Do not fear for your safety. I am near and diligently protecting you. When the time is right, I will retrieve you, and the future we’ve longed for will be ours to create. Together.
Ever yours,
Billy Poe
Acid burned in Lydia’s throat.
This man truly believed himself to be a purveyor of justice—and the sword toherpen.
Detective Hall was right.
She was responsible. Her words had corrupted a soul.
And now some madman believed they belonged together like some bizarre pairing of wine and rat poison.
Marcus lifted the cup nearer her face.
The sweet aroma of Papa’s concoction filled her nose. She gagged and pushed it away, sloshing the green-tinged liquid onto the table.
Marcus set the cup aside. “Please, Lydia. I know you’re worried for your safety, but I won’t let anything happen to you. None of us will. Even Detective Lawson has vowed to ensure you are safely transported elsewhere. No one is going to harm you.”
For a man who edited fiction for a living, Marcus had a severe lack of understanding of this situation. Of course someone was going to try to harm her. The only question was who would get to her first—Cincinnati or Billy Poe?
Billy Poe might have delusions of love now, but once she condemned his actions, would he turn on the creator of his vigilante world and writeherending? Would he stab her to death with a pen? Or perhaps he’d slice her with a million paper cuts and then douse her with vinegar so her agony would be drawn out. That might be extreme, but if her mind came up with it, would his? What if he didn’t believe her denouncement of his actions? Would he enact the plot of her romance books and kidnap her to make her his bride? Would he even recognize he fulfilled the villain’s role instead of the hero’s? There were so many ways she could write this, and none of them were experiences she desired.
And what would he do while he waited to kill or kidnap her? Four books still remained for him to choose from to enact her version of justice. Four men whose lives were at risk because she had deemed they should die. She was going to vomit again.
She swallowed the bile and rose from the chair. “Thank you for coming, but you should go.”
Marcus clasped her hand. “You know I couldn’t stay away, not once I saw what Clemens published. I knew those people would come for you.”
Those people.
She shivered. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d watched their veiled figures picket her stoop. Had it really been only a few hours? She no longer heard the chants echoing down the hall, largely thanks to Detective Lawson. Detective Hall had skedaddled from the house as quickly as his feet would carry him, under the guise of taking the letter back to the station as evidence. But not before he’d interrogated Marcus like he was Billy Poe.
Lydia studied Marcus for herself. With brows furrowed deep enough to plant corn in, hazel eyes pinched with anxiety, and lips downturned, he didn’t strike her as a murderer. His large hand encompassed hers with a firm, protective grip—so much like the heroes she’d created. He couldn’t possibly be guilty. He was too kind and far too worried about herbecauseof the threats Cincinnati and Billy Poe posed. Delivering the letter did not make him a villain.
Neither did it make him a hero.
She slipped her hand from his. “Thank you for your concern, but my family will be safe. We’re staying with—” She bit down on the information. He might not be Billy Poe, but she didn’t want anyone to know their new location. She’d put her family in enough danger.
Marcus frowned. “With whom? I can be sure to check on you there.”
“I’ll contact you when I can. You understand that I cannot take any unnecessary risks for the sake of my family.”
“It’s only me. I won’t divulge the information to anyone else.” When she continued to hold back, hurt edged the earnestness in his face. “I kept your secret about Dupin for three years. Do you not trust me?”
