“I slipped a tracker in here when I broke into the house,” he said.
My mouth fell open. “That was you?” Another stab of betrayal shot through me.
He stepped back like the question physically hit him, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Anger flashed across his face, sharp and defensive.
“You think I wanted to do that?” he spat. “You think I wanted to set those fires, too?”
Nolan slapped a hand to his chest and returned to pacing, like he couldn’t stand still. “I didn’t have a fucking choice!” he snarled. “Amos Anderson is a bastard. I—I couldn’t let him ruin my life. Not after all these years.”
My mind reeled.What was he talking about?
Before I could ask another question, a sound cut through the room.
The office door opened.
Nolan halted his nervous steps, his body going more rigid. A man entered the room.
“Come on now,” a calm voice said with a hint of amusement. “You have to admit…it was a little fun, wasn’t it?”
The man walked farther inside, his head tilting toward Nolan as if he were studying something mildly interesting.
“Like old times.” The man grinned, and then his gaze shifted, landing on me.
Ice flooded my veins as recognition struck. I knew those eyes.
The hair that had once been mostly silver was dyed completely black. A thick beard hid most of his jaw. His skin was strangely smooth, almost shiny, like it had been pulled too tight across his face. His lips were fuller than they should have been.
But those eyes. I’d seen them in every documentary. They’d been in every old news report and crime scene breakdown that had featured his picture.
Amos Anderson. The Shadow Stalker.
He was looking directly at me.
I stiffened more as he walked closer. I wanted to scoot away, but there was nowhere else to go. I would fall off the desk if I tried. Part of me wouldn’t mind as long as I could get some distance from that stare.
He tsked under his breath, a cold smile parting his lips. “Looks like I’ve caught another little butterfly.” His head cocked to the side. “What ever shall I do with such a pretty, delicate thing?”
My entire body shuddered. And as he came ever closer, so close I could almost feel the heat from his body, there was only one thought in my mind. One name I shouted over and over inside my head.
Roman.
43
Roman
Ididn’tremembergettingbackto the bed-and-breakfast.
One minute, I was standing in my office at the station, staring at the horrible photo on my phone, and the next thing I knew, I was in my mother’s kitchen. The familiar smell of coffee and wood polish did nothing to ground the violent storm tearing through my chest.
Apparently Fox and Graham arrived at the fire station just in time to stop me from grabbing my keys and leaving to go find Palmer. I vaguely remembered Graham blocking the doorway and Fox taking the phone out of my hand while I fought him for it like a damn animal.
After that…everything blurred together.
Now I was here.
But Palmer wasn’t.
The thought slammed into me, hard enough that my stomach clenched. For a second, I thought I might throw up.
