Chapter 18
K ane waited until Beth darted to the kitchen before he opened the door enough to eye the eighty-something-year-old man on the other side. “Can I help you?”
Jerry eyed him up and down through his wire-framed glasses. “Are you Beth’s new boyfriend?”
“Yes, sir. Lieutenant Kane Darren.”
“Good to meet you, son.” Jerry scratched his bald spot. “The wife and I were afraid she’d never date again.” He pulled a plain white envelope from his pocket. “I saw my mailbox was open, so I went out to close it and found this.” He held out the missive with Beth’s name typed on it.
Kane’s skin tightened as he opened the door farther and took the delivery. “Did you see who left it?”
“Nope.” Jerry reached out his hand. “Thank you for your service. Be good to our Beth.”
“Will do, sir. Thank you.”
Beth emerged from the kitchen and ran to his side. Her hand shook as she took the envelope from him. Fuck, he hated to see her scared .
“Let me.” If he could take every burden from her, he would.
He opened the envelope. The color drained from her face as she stared at the white sheet of paper with the number four typed in a big, bold font in the center.
The names of the three men in the graveyard rattled in Beth’s head like a death roll.
Matthew—One
Conner—Two
Danny —Three
Kane—
Oh, hell no, Kane would not be her fourth victim.
She waved at the door with both hands. “You have to go. Call Nic. Or Linc. I don’t care if you call Chris and Scarlett to babysit me. Just leave.”
In a move as quick as when he’d subdued the liquor store hoodies, he pinned her hands at her sides. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re number four, Kane.” She struggled against his hold, trying to edge him to the door so she could push him out. “Your life is in danger because of me. You need to go.”
He pulled her to a recliner tucked next to the fireplace and nudged her to sit. “I survived getting my leg blown off and crawled through the sand to save my life. I can handle a stalker who doesn’t have the balls to show himself when he threatens a woman. Now tell me what the number four means.”
Panic sizzled in her veins.
Her bones.
Her heart.
An earsplitting alarm pealed in her mind. “It’s a threat that won’t remain on paper for very long, and that threat isn’t to my life. It’s to yours.”
He leaned forward and rested an arm on top of the cushion behind her. “Start talking. Now.”
“No, I can’t tell you.” Her whisper held a hysterical pitch that scared her. “I have to show you.”