Chapter 13
I sat upright in bed, my heart pounding, the remnants of the dream lingering with unsettling clarity.
I turned, surprised to find Giovanni awake, eyeing me with concern. “Are you all right? You were talking in your sleep.”
“I’m worried about Mia.”
That got his attention.
“I just had one of those dreams I have, the ones that are like hints or messages from beyond,” I said. “Wren was there. She said something was about to happen.”
Giovanni nodded as if sensing my concern. Then he threw the covers back and reached for my hand. “Let’s drive over and make sure she’s all right.”
We moved fast, changing our clothes and rushing to get out the door. I grabbed my firearm from the nightstand drawer, checking the chamber out of habit before sliding it into my handbag. Giovanni grabbed his gun as well.
Two minutes later, we were out the door and on our way to Mia’s house.
It was late, but I tried calling anyway.
There was no answer.
The roads were empty, the kind of quiet that always existed in the middle of the night, when the rest of the world had shut down. I sat there, nervous, my mind replaying the dream.
The key.
The warning.
Something about to happen.
We pulled up to the curb several houses away, killing the engine and letting the darkness settle around us. There were no lights on inside Mia’s house, no movement, and no signs of anything to be concerned about.
For a moment, doubt crept in.
Maybe I’d overreacted.
Maybe it had just been a dream.
But if it was, why was I still so unsettled?
A text message popped up on my screen from Mia, which I showed to Giovanni.
Mia: Did you just try to call me?
Me: I did. Is everything all right?
Mia: Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?
Me: I just want to make sure you’re safe.
Mia: I’m fine. Is this about your theory again? Can we just drop it for now?
Me: Sorry I called so late. I hope you can get some sleep.
I set my phone on the dashboard, and Giovanni said, “What would you like to do now?”
“Would it be okay if we sit here for a while? I’m not sure if Whitlock was able to speak to Foley about having a couple of officers patrol the neighborhood, but
I can’t shake this feeling I’m having.”
“We can stay as long as you like.”
Ten minutes passed and then thirty, and nothing changed.
An hour in, Giovanni yawned and shifted in his seat, looking at me. “Are you feeling any better?”
“I’m starting to second-guess myself.”
“I’ve seen how accurate your instincts can be. I know better than to ignore them.”
Another fifteen minutes passed and then I saw something I didn’t expect … movement.
“Do you see that?” I whispered.
Giovanni followed my line of sight.
Several houses down, I spotted someone dressed in black, a hood pulled low to conceal their face. They moved along the sidewalk with deliberate caution, pausing every few steps to watch the surrounding homes. A moment later, they stopped and turned, scanning the street.
“That doesn’t look like someone out for a late-night stroll,” Giovanni said.
I agreed.
As the figure walked toward Mia’s house, we slid lower in our seats.
Three houses away.
Then two.
Then one.
I moved a hand to the door handle, ready to make a move, and the figure stopped. Then they did something I didn’t expect. They turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, disappearing around the corner.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
We jumped out of the car and hurried toward the end of the street. By the time we rounded the corner, the person was gone. The road stretched empty in both directions. Giovanni and I stood there for a moment, both of us struggling to understand what had just happened.
“He must be around here somewhere,” Giovanni said.
“If the person we’re looking for is a ‘he,’ we’ve lost him, for now.”
Disappointed, we headed back the way we came. As we neared Mia’s house, I saw something disturbing, and I looked at Giovanni, pointing. “I swear I just saw a shadowy figure moving inside Mia’s house.”
A feeling of unease coursed through me, and we ran toward Mia’s home, guns raised.
I reached the front door and pounded on it. “Mia, open the door!”
A scream came from inside the house, followed by the sound of Coco barking.
Giovanni stepped past me, raised his gun, and fired, shattering the glass on one of the front windows. We climbed through, making our way through the dark to Mia’s room. I pushed the door open and saw Mia sitting upright in bed, clutching the sheets, her eyes wide with terror.
“Someone was just … someone was here,” she gasped. “Standing right there, right where you’re standing now.”
“Which way did they go?” I demanded.
“As soon as you started pounding on the door, they ran. I think they went out the back.”
I rushed down the hallway, through the kitchen, and into the backyard. But I found nothing and no one.
Behind me, Giovanni stepped outside. “Do you see anyone?”
“No.”
He swore under his breath.
I turned back toward the house, frustrated. Giovanni suggested he drive through the nearby streets again while I stayed with Mia, but it wasn’t long after I went back inside that he joined us.
“Our front tires have been slashed,” he said.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, my pulse hammering in my ears. At last, everything clicked into place. Mia had been the target from the beginning. Wren’s death hadn’t been the end of anything. It had been a mistake. And tonight, the killer had returned to correct it.