Pretend you’re doing surveillance, Ellie.
Yet it felt different conducting it on her own house. Not house, herhome, where she wanted to escape the violence and chaos and evil of the world.
But in her job, there was no safe world.
That thought infuriated her. No one messed with Ellie. And no one was going to make her fear entering her own sanctuary.
Shaking off Cord’s warning, she pulled her gun, eased the car door open, checked around her and headed up the drive, careful not to step on the damn feathers.
TWENTY-NINE
Cold panic seized Cord as he whipped his truck onto the road into Ellie’s neighborhood. The bastard who’d killed Minnie Benton and possibly hurt or abducted little Iris had been to Ellie’s house.
He’d left a message loud and clear. No words needed.
Another monster was loose.
There was no doubt in his mind now that Minnie was murdered.
Cord’s tires screeched as he spotted Ellie’s Jeep at the edge of the driveway. His pulse raced as he searched to see if she was inside the vehicle or if she’d done her usual storming the scene without backup.
Hands clammy, he slowed, parked on the curb and reached for his door handle. Damn the stubborn woman. He’d asked her to wait for him, but the front door was slightly open.
Was she inside?
Pulling his flashlight, he stepped from his truck and scanned the driveway first. The black feathers formed a pattern straight to her front door. Son of a bitch!
Breath tight in his chest, he quickly surveyed the street for cars that looked out of place. The houses were set far enoughapart that the neighbors’ driveways were obscure, but he’d make it a point to ask Ellie to take note of her neighbors’ vehicles for comparison purposes in the future.
Satisfied he didn’t see any vacant vehicles, or a car pointed in Ellie’s direction watching, he almost called out as he headed up the drive but stayed quiet. If the asshole was here, he didn’t want to warn him.
He carefully stepped around the feathers, noting blood droplets on the steps.
Was the killer waiting inside to ambush Ellie?
Or was that Ellie’s blood?
THIRTY
Ellie held her gun at the ready as she inched inside her house. She usually left her hall light on when she was gone but just like the exterior, the interior lights were off and the house was pitched in darkness.
The back of her neck prickled with unease as she surveyed the foyer then her living room and kitchen. Nothing looked out of place. Still, she paused to listen for signs of an intruder.
A faint whiff of some scent she didn’t recognize clogged the air, something like a cloying musky cologne, indicating someone had been inside.
Was he still here now?
She glanced at the back door and saw it was slightly ajar. Dammit. The lock looked busted. Even as the furnace kicked on, cold air swirled around her. She crept down the hall, checked the guest bath and bedroom then inched toward the master.
Perspiration beaded her upper lip as she gripped her gun, scanning the room. She didn’t see anyone inside.
She started to breathe out in relief, but the dead crow in the center of her bed stopped her cold. Blood streaked her white comforter. She almost gagged.
Footsteps echoed from down the hall, and she quickly stepped to her bathroom and glanced inside. Her vanity was just as she’d left it, messy and unkempt.
“Ellie?”
Cord’s voice.
