Chapter 42
Mince Pie
CALLIE
Shane’s a serial killer.
All these years I’ve been married to a murderer. And then, just as I’m trying to escape the criminal world, I go ahead and fall in love with a serial killer.
Shane kills women and girls. The worst kind of criminal. But Wes is a different type of serial killer. He kills bad guys like Shane. And yeah, I hear myself trying to justify Wes’s actions. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should stick to my plan to start over. Finish whatever the fuck is happening here at Noah’s cabin and then leave.
But there’s no way I’m doing that.
I love Wes.
I’m in love with him.
Wes leads me to the sofa in the family room and sinks down next to me on the comfortable cushions.
“How do you like your tea?” Noah asks from the kitchen, clicking his kettle on. His cabin setup is different from Wes’s. There are nooks and crannies and hallways leading off the main kitchen and family room area. This cabin is bigger andquirkier than Wes’s more straightforward two-bedroom square floor plan.
“Milk and two sugars,” Wes answers for me. I can’t even manage a thank you when Noah hands me a steaming mug of tea a few minutes later. I look into the milky liquid and sip gratefully, the burn on my tongue a reminder that this is all real. Noah settles on the single chair next to the coach, presumably waiting for me to say something.
“You’re sure he’s Joe Killer?” I glance between Wes and Noah.
“Yes.” Noah presses his lips together and furrows his brow.
“Noah doesn’t make mistakes about things like this.” Wes stares at me intently. “Callie, we got here as fast as we could. I’m sorry it wasn’t faster.”
“You got there in time,” I say. He came for me. I begged the universe to send Wes to save me, and he appeared. I’d be dead if he hadn’t come to that barn when he did.
The way he looks at me. The times he’s saved me. Chosen me.
I should never have sent him away.
Because I think this man might love me like I love him.
I’m getting ahead of myself, and also, I don’t want to think about the implications for my future if I decide I want to be with Wes. The way my entire life plan is sinking to the bottom of the frozen lake.
Before any of those conversations can take place, we need to deal with the man duct-taped and secured to a chair in Noah’s creepy murder room.
“Joe Killer’s murders have gotten more frequent. A year ago, it was once every three months. Six months ago, it was up to every other month. And the past six weeks, it’s almost one a week. Which is why I’ve been so anxious toget things moving.” Noah gives a pointed look at his brother.
“That’s around when Shane moved to NYC.” My stomach drops out as Noah moves to sit on the other side of me with his laptop and points at a map of New York City, indicating where Shane was living and where the fight club is, then where bodies have been found over the past year.
It basically forms a circle around Shane’s apartment.
“How’d you know where to look for Joe Killer’s car?”
“Scorpion,” Noah says, and when I give him a confused look, he continues. “I have a contact online who drops me tips.” Noah shrugs.
Quiet descends on our weird little trio for a few beats. I get caught up in memories of the last year. How often did Shane disappear, and I assumed it was a work trip, but he was off murdering some poor homeless girl?
“He’d go away on business,” I hear myself say. “It was supposed to be for my dad or stupid fucking Jones.” I shake my head. “It became more frequent.”
“It’s a newish fight club.” Wes shrugs. “He probably was going to New York to help set things up even before he left town.”
Noah slams his laptop shut and stands, heading back to the kitchen with it. Wes puts his arm around my shoulders and squeezes.
