look directly at him. He jumped back and then he relaxed. She couldn’t see him in the darkness. He was the one with the advantage. His grin broadened.
The woman’s face shifted, contorted, features fading in and out of focus. It couldn’t be. He pressed against the eyepiece wishing away the image he saw. Mother? Painful cramps seized his stomach muscles. Dropping his camera in the grass, he dry-heaved into the bushes. It’s not my mother. A low, animal-like keening filled the night air. Did that sound come from me? A second wave of nausea twisted his gut and memories of his childhood bombarded his mind. He trembled with intense hatred.
He tried again to see through the window. He held the camera to his face. Steady. Steady. The woman appearing in his camera lens this time wore the softest expression. Innocent. Loving. Liar. I know what you are. He moved deeper into the darkness and sat on the ground. Get hold of yourself. You know she’s not your mother, idiot. You killed her with your bare hands. Now calm down and stop acting like a moron.
“Don’t call me a moron!” he hissed into the night, twisting his neck, looking behind him, beside him, searching for the taunting voice. “You don’t have to be so mean.” Only silence answered.
He raised the lens again and took another look at the scene inside.
See. It’s the boy’s mother, idiot. Not yours.
He moved farther into the darkness as the woman walked back onto the porch with the man. He patted her shoulder and then bounded down the stairs. She waved goodbye as he hurried down the sidewalk. Go ahead, fool him but you can’t fool me. He wanted to snatch her and end it now.
Wouldn’t it be a delight if he waited for the cops to leave and grabbed her tonight? They wouldn’t be expecting it. The thought of making fools out of the police was almost more than he could bear. But he had to wait. There was another child who needed him and he’d already committed himself to help. But he would return. Soon. Very soon.
He wiped sweat from his cheek. Or was it tears? He had waited long enough. It was time.
Tony sat in his car and stared at the brightly lit house. He knew Erin was safe. Police were everywhere. But still he hesitated to leave. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. The sweet smell of her breath. The flush of her skin. Her green eyes wide with expectation and something more. Something he didn’t want to recognize or admit.
He flashed back to the moment he heard her address coming across the scanner. Adrenaline laced with fear had raced through his blood and remnants of terror caused his pulse to gallop. She could have been killed tonight. This was not a random burglary by a kid high on dope. Erin was a target. And that knowledge took his breath away.
Tony turned the key in the ignition. The last thing in the world he needed was an emotional entanglement with a single mother and her kid. He was a cop, and proud of it, but it’s not a job for a family man. Family man? Where had that thought come from? No way. Not him. He slid the car away from the curb.
He had been holding his emotions in check, refusing to get too close, care too much, because someday he might find himself in danger. He never wanted to cause another person that fear or pain. Tony grimaced at the bitter irony of the situation. Who would have believed that Erin would be the one in danger?
A serial killer? Lord, isn’t this a lousy way to teach me that cops aren’t the only ones who can be in danger? Not that I’m second-guessing You or anything. I know You see the whole picture of our lives and I can only grasp a piece at a time. But, Lord, please help me. How am I supposed to keep this predator away from her door when he has already slipped in right under my nose?
The thought sickened him. He shook his head. Erin. His heart ached thinking about her. She needed him. She needed his expertise. His strength. His protection. She needed him to be the best cop he knew how to be.
But what about his needs? When had those needs started to include her presence in his life? He paused at the Stop sign and looked at Erin’s house in his