I cursed. “How the hell are we supposed to find this creep?”
“We have to hope he starts to get sloppy.”
But what harm could he do before that happened?
Aspen’s red hair caught my eye as she made her way through the tables with a tray of drinks. She stopped at the table next to ours, setting down two mugs and a couple of scones for the couple there. “Here you go,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you.” The woman stared at her for a moment. “It’s crazy. You look just like that woman who got murdered in Mississippi. The one whose husband went down for it. But lots of folks think he didn’t really do it—”
“Sally,” her husband clipped.
“What? She does.”
Aspen had gone an unnatural shade of white.
“Sorry,” the man said. “She’s got a crazy true crime obsession. She thinks everyone could be a serial killer.”
Sally glared at her husband. “They could be anywhere.”
Aspen forced a laugh. “It’s okay.”
But I didn’t miss the tremble in the tray as she moved to our table. “Hey, Caden.”
“You okay?” I asked.
That unnatural smile widened. “Of course. Here are your coffees. Just flag me down if you need something else.”
She was gone before Nash or I could get out another word.
“Caden?”
I turned at Nash’s voice. “Sorry. What’d you say?”
“How was Grae last night?”
Memories of those alarms going off and Grae’s pale face filled my mind.
Nash straightened. “That bad?”
I shook my head. “She had low blood sugar for a lot of the night.”
Nash cursed. “Those nights are rough.”
I gripped my coffee mug. “They happen a lot?”
“I don’t know about now since she keeps that stuff pretty close to the vest, but growing up, they would happen every so often. Scared the hell out of our parents.”
“Scared the hell out of me,” I admitted.
Nash studied me for a moment. “You dealing with this okay?”
I glanced out the window to the water across the street. “I’m dealing.”
I had to. Because I wouldn’t lose Grae. Not again.
29
GRAE
