I was just there, and she didn’t say a wor—”
“She didn’t send me. Not exactly. And I know you were just at her house. I followed you there...and back. I’ve been following you for days.”
“Why?” She managed to tamp down the sudden fear his revelation triggered. So she wasn’t crazy. She had been followed.
He removed his Stetson as if he’d just realized he was still wearing it. Then ran his fingers through the hair the hat had flattened. “Because the McCays hired me to find you.”
“What?” She barely breathed the word.
His face took on a grim cast. “I’m a private investigator, Holly. The McCays came to my office a week ago. They spun me a cock-and-bull story about you, which I almost swallowed hook, line and sinker. Almost.” He looked as if he were going to add something to that statement, but didn’t.
“Let me guess. I’m an abusive mother, and they want to rescue Ian and Jamie from my clutches.”
“No.”
A wry chuckle was forced out of her. “Well, that’s a change. That’s the story they told the court when they tried to wrest custody of my boys from me after Grant died.” Curious, she asked, “So what was their story this time?”
Chris glanced down at the Stetson in his hand and ran his fingers along the brim. “You’re the trustee for the boys’ inheritance from their dad,” he said when he raised his eyes to meet hers again. “You wanted to use the money on yourself instead of for the boys’ benefit, and you took Ian and Jamie away from their loving grandparents so no one could call you to account. And you won’t let the McCays even know where you are...where the boys are. Won’t let them be a part of your children’s lives.”
Holly closed her eyes for a second, laughed again without humor and shook her head. “All of that is true, except for one thing,” she admitted. “I am the sole trustee. And I did run with Ian and Jamie—three weeks before Christmas, did they mention that?” Chris nodded. “And I haven’t told the McCays where we are...for a perfectly good reason. Because—”
“Because they’re trying to kill you.”
Stunned, Holly asked in a breathless whisper, “How did you know that?”
One corner of Chris’s mouth twitched up into a half smile. “Because I’m damned good at what I do, Holly. Because the minute I found out you were friends with Peg, I knew the McCays were lying through their teeth, and I wanted to know why. I hate lies and I hate liars. But even more than that, I hate being taken for a sucker. So I did a little more digging...on them. And found out a hell of a lot more than they want the world to know.”
“I can’t believe you believe me.”
“It’s not so much a matter of believing you, it’s putting the facts together and believing the story they tell—no matter what that story is. No matter if the story seems incredible on the face of it.”
Holly buried her face in her hands as emotion welled up in her. For months she’d had no one she could confide in about her suspicions. No one she could share her worry with. She hadn’t even told Peg. And this man, this stranger, was telling her she’d been right all along.
When she finally raised her face to his, her eyes were dry. She wasn’t going to cry about this, not now. She’d cried enough tears over the McCays, almost as many tears as she’d cried over Grant’s death. Her lips tightened. “That means I’m doing the right thing taking the boys and leaving town.”
Chris shook his head. “I didn’t tell them I located you. And I won’t.”
“But don’t you see? Even if you don’t tell them where I am, if they hired you they know I’m in this area. And the next PI they hire might not... What I mean is, not everyone will suspect their motives. Not everyone will believe the truth.”
Chris stared thoughtfully, then nodded. “You’re right. But I can’t let you run away again. Not knowing what I know. I’d never be able to forgive myself if...” He seemed to reach a decision. “I think the best thing would be for you and your boys to check out of this rooming house...but stay where I can keep an eye on you until we can set a trap for the McCays.”
Holly shook her head vehemently. “I can’t do that to you and your wife—put you in danger that way.”
All expression was wiped from Chris’s face in a heartbeat. “My wife is dead.”
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered eventually. “I didn’t know. You said Peg’s your sister-in-law, and since you and she don’t have the same name, I assumed...” Her words trailed off miserably.
“Peg never mentioned her younger sister, Laura?” Holly shook her head again. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Chris said. “Peg and Laura were particularly close. She took Laura’s death hard.” He didn’t say it, but Holly could see Peg wasn’t the only one who’d taken Laura’s death hard. But that closed-off expression also told her this wasn’t a topic of conversation Chris wanted to pursue.
Is that why Peg bonded with me so quickly? Holly wondered abstractedly. Because she saw in me the little sister she’d lost?
“So you’re not putting my wife in danger,” Chris said, drawing her attention back to the here and now. “Most of my family is in some kind of law enforcement, too, and I can recruit them to help me set a trap for the McCays. Of course, everyone’s focused on capturing the Alphabet Killer right now, so the McCays aren’t going to be a top priority. Especially since there’s no concrete evidence against them. In the meantime, though, I want you and your boys in safekeeping.”
“Ian and Jamie aren’t in danger,” she was quick to point out. “Just me.”
“Are you so sure?” Chris’s eyes in that moment were the hardest, coldest blue eyes she’d ever seen. “If the McCays are willing to kill you to gain custody, who’s to say they wouldn’t eventually arrange ‘accidents’ for the boys, too, once they had them in their control?”
“Their own grandchildren? I can’t believe—”
Chris cut her off. “Believe it. Once you’ve taken the first life, the next one is easier to justify in your mind. And the next.” A bark of humorless laughter escaped him. “I should know. My father is Matthew Colton.”
Holly’s brows drew together in a frown. “I don’t think I—”
“Mathew Colton, the original bull’s-eye serial killer. He was infamous in his day. The Alphabet Killer is a copycat of sorts, marking her victims the way he did.” His face hardened into a grim mask. “My father killed ten people twenty years ago. Including his last victim—my mother.”
“Oh, my God!”
Shock was obvious on Holly’s face, followed quickly by the emotion Chris hated the most—pity. He’d had a bellyful of pity in his life—from the time he was eleven and became a quasi-orphan, right up through Laura’s death almost two years ago. He didn’t want pity and
