Page 29 of Little Twisted Things

It was a dangerous thing to mess with a killer’s story and signature. And now, this copycat should be worried about whether I’d find them first and take care of them before the police did.

A faint smile crossed my lips. The police weren’t the only ones asking questions now. And unlike them, I wasn’t interested in proving a theory. I was interested in finding out who had the audacity to write my name into a story that didn’t belong to them.

Now, I wasn’t just hunting young women to give them the perfect ending I believed they deserved. I was hunting something far more dangerous. Another serial killer. Someone who had stepped into my story without permission. They thought they could borrow my legend. They were about to learn the difference between writing a story and becoming part of one.

15

Dahlia

With two coffees in my hand, I tapped on the gallery door with my foot to get Tess’s attention. She ran over, unlocked the door, and opened it quickly.

“No drink carrier?” she asked, taking a coffee from my hand.

“They were out. What coffee shop runs out of drink carriers?” I asked.

I set my coffee on the counter and set my purse in the cabinet underneath.

“I’ve decided to have a few friends over for dinner tonight, and I’d love for you to come,” Tess said.

“Tonight?”

“Yeah. I know Alex is in Fort Lauderdale, so you don’t have an excuse not to come.”

“Dinner sounds great. What can I bring?”

“Just yourself. I have everything else covered.” She smiled. “I saw on the news this morning that Lawrence Gearheart was having an affair with that realtor who found him on his boat.”

“Oh really?” I acted surprised.

“Same with that history professor friend of yours. Did you know he was having an affair?” she casually asked.

“I had no idea. I was shocked when I found out.”

“So sad.” She shook her head. “And scary. I hope they catch whoever is responsible.”

“I’m sure they will.” I smiled.

I brought a key lime pie. I stepped onto the porch of Tess’s house and rang the doorbell.

“Yay. You’re here.” She smiled.

I handed her the white box with the pie in it as I stepped inside.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Key lime pie.”

“You didn’t have to bring this. But thank you.” She grinned.

We stepped into the living room, where three ladies were talking and holding wine glasses.

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet Dahlia. Dahlia, this is Cara, Nadine, and Tori.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dahlia,” they all said.

“Tess tells us you’re a genius at selling art. She said her sales doubled since hiring you,” Cara said.

“I wouldn’t say genius. I’m just very passionate about art.” I smiled.