“Just give me a name,” Sarah urged. “If you think you know—”
“He’s watching me.” She suddenly advanced those two steps she’d retreated. She went nose to nose with Sarah. “He’s watching you, too.”
“You’re saying it’s Pope?”
Matilda shook her head, looked confused. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m confusing all the talk and what I feel.” She banged her hand against her chest. “But I can feel the evil the same as I can see you.” She searched Sarah’s eyes. “You feel it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Sarah recognized the feeling for what it was. She’d sensed something here ... someone here. “I feel it.”
“Then find him. I keep dreaming about the ocean. I think it fuels him. Makes him feel powerful. That’s why he can’t leave. He needs to be here.” She looked past Sarah again, her eyes went wide. “I have to go—”
Sarah looked back at the parking lot’s dispersing crowd. “I want to—” She turned back to Matilda.
She was gone.
Sarah’s heart hammered. Matilda was scared as hell. She was definitely confused. But her instincts were humming.
Just as Sarah’s were.
But she needed more than the ramblings, however heartfelt, of a teenager before casting suspicion on a man like Pope.
“You want to go have coffee?”
At the sound of Conner’s voice, Sarah wheeled in that direction.
Irrationally, her frustration heightened. “I’m not in the mood for crowds.”
“Who said anything about a crowd?” He searched her eyes, his saying all that needed to be said.
Sarah’s attention shifted to the last of the people drifting aimlessly down the church steps.
The Popes climbed into their regal Infiniti. Jerri Lynn hugged Tamara, then dashed over to join her family.
Rachel Appleton, her husband, and two sons drifted into Sarah’s line of sight.
Rachel turned, and for one fleeting instant she looked directly at Sarah. That ache Sarah couldn’t seem to banish swelled. She watched the family walk to the waiting car and settle in. The car drove away.
Sarah blinked, then blinked again, severing the painful bond. “Yes,” she said to Conner. Determination and undeniable desperation bursting inside her. “We’ll go to your place. We’ll have coffee and then we’ll have sex.”
When she would have turned to her car, he snagged her elbow, drew her close. “We’ll go to my place. Have coffee ...” He put his face close to hers. “And we’ll make love.”
She pulled free of his hold and stalked to her car without looking back.
Didn’t have to.
He would be right behind her.
He could call it whatever he wanted. Sarah would fortify herself with what Conner had to offer and then, by God, she would find the killer.
For Valerie and Alicia and their families.
For Matilda.
They barely got inside the door of his house before she was tearing his clothes off.
Sarah couldn’t explain it. Didn’t try.
Thinking was out of the question right now.
