in the years since Makaela’s disappearance. Although he was painfully aware of how his sister had died, the dream never played out to that end. He always awoke before it could, his body drenched in sweat and his heart beating as if it would tear its way out of his chest. Today had been no different.
He closed his eyes again, waiting for the pump of blood to slow. He hadn’t experienced the terror of the dream in a long time, but he knew he shouldn’t be surprised it had happened now.
He was closer to Makaela’s murderer than he’d ever been before. He knew that with a certainty for which he could offer no rational explanation. He simply knew it.
Just as he had known outside Jenna Kincaid’s office two nights ago that the man he sought was also there. So near he could feel his evil. Could sense it in the air around him.
This was a smaller city than the ones the killer had chosen before. A limited population spread over a relatively contained geographic area, bound by the narrow valley that ran between the two mountain ridges in which the original settlement had been made.
Not only was the hunting ground here more contained, thanks to the friend Sean had made on the FBI task force, he’d gotten in on this spurt of homicides early. While the bastard was feeling invincible. Maybe this time…
Feeling his expectations rise to a level experience had taught him was premature, Sean released a slow breath, deliberately focusing on his plans for today. One step at a time. He had learned long ago that was the best way to keep the images from the dream, as well as those that represented the fulfillment of his quest, out of his consciousness.
After a moment, he held his wrist up so that despite the artificially darkened room, he could see the hands of his watch. It was 3:30 p.m. Which meant he would have time to shower and shave and maybe get something to eat before Jenna Kincaid left the office.
It would all get easier once he’d completed his move into the vacant unit in the building below hers, which might take place as early as tomorrow. The apartment he’d chosen wasn’t directly across from hers, but it did have a view of both the front entrance and the expanse of glass in Jenna’s living room.
He could only imagine how she would react when she discovered he was there. As much as he’d like to, there was probably no way to prevent her from finding out, which would almost certainly mean a confrontation with the local cops.
He wasn’t overly concerned about that. He had his own resources within the law enforcement community, people who would be willing to speak to the locals on his behalf.
And he wasn’t breaking any laws. Not by moving into an empty apartment. Nor would he be by sitting outside in the parking lot.
From now on, he was going to keep a very low profile. The only way he had any chance of finding the man he’d come here to kill was to fade into the background of Jenna Kincaid’s world, so that when the real stalking began, the man he was hunting would never know that he, too, was being stalked.
“Hey, sport. Whatcha doing?”
“Watching Wiggles,” Ryan said.
His nephew’s voice was so soft Sean had to strain to hear the words. If he hadn’t already known the probable answer, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher it.
Sean had long ago learned to keep his feelings about the boy’s choice of TV shows and books to himself. The kid didn’t need criticism, not of any kind. Especially not from him.
His day-care teachers all praised Ryan’s sweet nature and gentle disposition, assuring Sean that his nephew would eventually grow out of his shyness. Of course, none of them knew the kids’ backgrounds. He had figured that the fewer people who knew about Makaela’s murder, the better.
“You have a good day at school?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Not much longer now,” Sean said, allowing his voice to rise teasingly at the end.
“Till Christmas?”
“That’s right. You getting excited?”
“Are you coming home?”
Sean swallowed the lump that hopeful question created. He knew he was their security blanket. Knew and accepted that that was his role. They were his family. And he was theirs. Literally all they had.
The problem was that he had also undertaken another role. One he took just as seriously. One he was far more suited to than playing mama and daddy to a couple of youngsters.
“As soon as I can,” he said, being careful not to make any promises he couldn’t keep.
“Before Christmas?”
“I don’t know, Scout. I hope so.”
“I got you something. Me and Cathy.”
“Yeah?”
“Something good. You’re gonna like it.”
“I know I will.”
“Cathy don’t think we’re getting a puppy, but I asked Santa.” They’d been over the dog thing a dozen times. Ryan had been told over and over again that it wasn’t possible. The lease didn’t allow it. Besides, it was hard enough to get someone good to live in and take care of the kids while he was away. If the job required cleaning up after a non-housebroken animal in the bargain—
“Uncle Sean?”
“I’m here. Look, we talked about the puppy. Maybe next summer. If we can find a house with a fenced-in yard—”
“That’s what she said.”
“Well, she’s right. I explained all that.”
“I still asked Santa. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
Sean closed his eyes, wishing he weren’t several hundred miles away. Wishing he had answers for that kind of question. Wishing most of all that this wasn’t the kind of fucked-up world where somebody could murder a little boy’s mother.
Makaela would have known how to respond to that wishful tone. She would probably have been able to juggle a full-time job and a puppy. When all he seemed able to manage—
“Uncle Sean? You still there?”
“Yeah. It’s okay to ask Santa, Scout, just as long as you’re prepared for him saying no.”
“Like when you pray.”
“What?”
“That’s what Maria says. It’s okay to pray for something, but that don’t mean you’re gonna get it.”
“Doesn’t mean,” Sean corrected.
“Doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it. Santa’s like that, too?”
“Something like that.”
“But sometimes you do.”
Get what you pray for, Sean thought,
