He uncrosses his arms and takes the towel from my hand. “That’s some good advice. You should share it with your twenty-eight thousand followers,” he suggests.
His comment makes me perk up in a jiffy. Because the only reason he would know my follower count is that he also looked me up.Oh my god, he researched me!Hope blooms in my chest, washing away all my earlier self-doubt.
“You know what? You’re right. I will share this on my page,” I say cheerfully. “I better head out and let you get back to your schedule.” I grin.
“That would be greatly appreciated.” Travis nods.
“I hope you like the cookies,” I say as I turn away from him to walk out of the kitchen. Part of me wishes he would stop me. He follows me through the foyer and toward the front door, where my eyes are drawn to three large bottles of bleach.Wow, that’s a lot of bleach.
“Doing some spring-cleaning?” I point toward the bottles.
“Something like that,” he answers just as we get to the door.
I reach for the knob and twist, pulling the door open. I don’t really want to leave, but I step outside anyway.
“See you around, neighbor,” I chirp over my shoulder as I walk down the front steps.
“We’ll see,” he challenges, making me giggle.
I hear the door closing behind me as I make my way down his driveway with a smile on my face. He doesn’t know it yet, but we will see each other again soon ... very soon.
Chapter Five
Travis
Today is the day. After studiously watching every move Kevin has made over the past week, I’m confident I know his schedule almost as well as my own. Well, that might be hyperbole, but I’m feeling particularly jubilant knowing what’s to come tonight.
The high before a kill is almost as intoxicating as the act itself. It’s what I love about this. The planning, the prep work, meticulously making sure every step I take is perfectly executed. The routine of it is titillating.
Even so, my nerves are on edge. Ineedthis. All I can think about is the look that will be on Kevin’s face as my knife slices into his flesh. I can hardly wait another minute. I don’t know how I’m supposed to wait until nightfall.
I guess I could make myself some herbal tea to calm down a little. I walk into my kitchen and boil some water. While I wait, I get the cup ready with my favorite overpriced tea. When the water boils, I pour it into my cup and look at the time above the oven. It reads 03:15:35, which means the tea will be done at 03:18:35.
I keep my eyes trained on the timer, but my mind keeps going back to killing Kevin. I’m so excited about tonight I can barely contain myself. Too excited, because it’s not long before I realize I’ve zoned out, and now the timer reads 3:18:46, which means it’s steeped eleven seconds too long.
“Unacceptable,” I murmur to myself before pouring the still-steaming cup down the drain. I look as the hot liquid disappears, and somehow I feel like it betrayed me personally.
With a huff, I walk back to my office. Just as I sit down, my phone chimes. If I don’t answer it, nothing will stand in my way of finishing my plan tonight. I don’t want anything stopping me.
It chimes again, the vibration rattling against the reclaimed wood of my desk.For fuck’s sake. What the hell is it now?
I suck my teeth as I grab my phone and look at the text message ringing through. Peter Dawson?
I got an alert for an uptick in your name being searched, the text reads. Attached is a screenshot of the alert, with a timeline of how frequently my name has been searched. Being the public figure I am, there is a reluctant amount of notoriety that comes with the territory.
Even considering that, it doesn’t take long for me to put the pieces together.Juniper Sage Featherstone.
Ever since forcing her way into my life, she’s been interrupting me in ways she can’t even comprehend. I’m certain it’s her. More of an annoyance than a threat, but I can’t risk something slipping through the cracks. I pay too close attention to everything I do to let her ruin my plans. I pick up the phone and press the call button by Peter’s name and wait for him to answer.
“Is this anything I should be concerned about?” I ask, not sparing a moment for useless pleasantries. Peter has been working with me as my PI long enough that he knows what to expect.
“Depends on how nervous you’re feeling,” Peter replies, his North Carolina drawl hanging on each word as it slowly leaves his mouth. I can already feel myself getting impatient. “They’re searching for information about you and an Amelia Banks.”
My blood runs cold at the mention of her name. There’s a long moment of silence between Peter and me as my brain works furiously to figure out what’s going on.
How does Sage know about Amelia? She couldn’t possibly have the resources to find out anything about her.
“Travis?” Peter says on the other end, waiting for my reaction.
