Page 128 of Whispers and Wildfire
But he couldn’t always be there.
Taking a deep breath, I moved back. “I don’t know why I’m letting this get to me.”
“Because you’ve been through something similar. Of course it’s going to bother you.”
“Yeah, but whoever this guy is, he doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“Still. We’ll be careful.” He kissed my forehead.
I loved it when he did that.
We walked back to his garage, and as we went inside, the rush of cool air washed over me, making my skin prickle. It helped, as if the chill grounded me in reality. This wasn’t LA eleven years ago. It was Tilikum. And whatever was happening out there wasn’t going to touch me.
Still, I dug through my purse, making sure I did have my pepper spray. Maybe I’d get a few more. I wasn’t going to take any chances.
CHAPTER 30
Luke
A few daysafter the murder victim was found, it was confirmed that law enforcement believed the perpetrator was the same. Garrett said it looked like he was escalating.
Without much of a description, and very few clues, I had no idea how they were going to find the guy. He’d attacked women across three towns, leaving them in different places each time. Two had been taken at night, two in broad daylight. No one knew how he was doing it without being seen.
It made me want to stick to Melanie like glue.
She’d be going back to her regular job sooner rather than later, and I was dreading it. I wanted her with me, where I could protect her.
I walked up the sidewalk in the heat, on my way to the Copper Kettle. I’d decided to run out and grab lunch for me and Mel. I went inside and the diner was packed. There seemed to be more than the normal bustle of staff and customers. Some people were eating at booths or tables, but the entire lunch counter was dominated by a knot of people, some sitting, others standing. It looked more like they were having a meeting than eating a meal.
Absently, I rubbed my midsection. My ribs were healing well, but I could tell when I’d overdone it or slept wrong. They’d been aching all morning.
Heidi, the hostess, came to the front. She was young with a bouncy dark blond ponytail and a Copper Kettle name tag pinned to her shirt.
“Are you with them?” She gestured to the men and women buzzing around the counter.
“No, I was just going to grab a to-go order. Who are they?”
“The SPS.” She didn’t elaborate, as if that were self-explanatory.
“What are they doing?”
Her eyes widened. “Don’t you know about The Whisper?”
“The what?”
“Not a what, a who. The man attacking women. There was another one, you know.”
“Please tell me you don’t mean there have been five.”
“No, four. But the last one…” She winced.
“Yeah, I heard. I think everyone’s heard by now.” My brow furrowed. “What did you call him? The Whisper?”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone is calling him. It’s because he whispers in your ear when he gets you.”
“What are the SPS doing?”
“A whole bunch of stuff. You should go talk to them. I bet they could use your help. Oh, do you still want to order?”
