think the cops know that isn’t your phone,” Victoria quietly told Connie. It’s Melissa. And I hope the cops can realize that Lucas isn’t the man they’re after. But before Victoria could say anything else, a cop led the crying blonde away. But at least the guy’s touch was more careful now, as if they’d all realized Connie and Lucas weren’t the terrible criminals they’d suspected.
While Connie was secured in the back of a patrol car, Dace stared down at Lucas, and Victoria could see the uncertainty in his eyes.
“Branson.” Dace’s voice was softer now. “Can anyone verify that you just arrived at this house?”
Lucas nodded. “N-Neighbor. Over there . . .” He pointed to one of the neighbors who’d come out to gawk at the scene. “Mr. Morris saw me and Connie pull up. Stopped to talk to us . . . said he’d—” His head snapped back as he stared first at Wade, then Dace, with wide eyes. “Said he’d seen some guy in Connie’s backyard.”
Victoria’s gaze shot to the neighbor even as Dace ordered a uniformed cop to bring Mr. Morris over for questioning.
“Lucas needs to get cleaned up,” Victoria said, her heart still aching for him.
At her words, Lucas turned to focus on her. “You found Kennedy.” He’d risen to his full height, but his shoulders were hunched, his body wavering a bit unsteadily.
She nodded.
“He . . . hurt her?”
He already knew that truth, and she found she couldn’t say it again. “She’s not hurting anymore.”
His eyes closed and tears tracked down his cheeks. Dace swore. She thought the detective had fully realized what she knew—that the killer had just played them all.
He planted that phone here. One last bit of torture for Lucas Branson. One big screw-you to the cops. The killer didn’t make some overconfident mistake.
He played us like a pro.
“THE NEIGHBOR BACKED up the story,” Dace said, his voice gruff. “He said Branson and his girl arrived just moments before we did. But the trace we got identified the call as coming from this location. It wasn’t on the move, it was stationary.”
Wade watched as uniformed cops continued to sweep the scene—Connie’s house. “Did the neighbor get a good look at the man he saw in the backyard?”
“No, just said he was some guy wearing a black hoodie. He called out to him but the guy ran.”
“He ran because he was done with his job.” Planting the phone. Throwing us off the trail. And that worried Wade. He crossed his arms over his chest as he faced Dace. “The perp kept tabs on Branson over the years. He knew the guy had a fiancée, he knew where she lived, and he also knew when they’d both be gone.” The creep knew when they had an appointment with a caterer that would keep them out of the house—his perfect drop time. And that created a whole new problem. Wade wanted Sarah brought in on this case, ASAP. Because the guy they were after here—he was one twisted sonofabitch. “He wanted the cops to think that Branson had hurt Kennedy. He wanted this whole scene to go down exactly as it did.”
But . . . something was nagging at him. The killer could have just called Dace directly. He could have just called the police station with his fucking taunts.
He hadn’t. He’d called Victoria instead.
His gaze slid toward her. She was talking softly with Branson’s fiancée. Victoria always said she wasn’t good with the living, but she sure seemed to be doing a fine job of comforting Connie. She didn’t give herself enough credit.
“Why the hell would the guy do this?” Dace wanted to know.
Wade didn’t get into the minds of killers, not the way Sarah did, but he had his suspicions. “Torture. Pain. That’s his thing.” He nodded toward the patrol car. “He made sure that even at the end, when Kennedy finally was back, that her lover suffered more.”
Dace swore. “I made him suffer. I did exactly what the asshole out there wanted.”
“But it’s not happening again. You’re going to get him. We’re going to get him.”
Dace stepped closer. “You know my captain is going to fight having you on this case. Kennedy—yeah, that one he could let LOST cover. But Melissa? He’s going to see her case as his domain from here on out.”
“Let him.” Wade shrugged. He wanted the cops involved. That didn’t mean he was going to stop searching. “We were already hired by Jim Porter. He wanted us to