was simple and quiet.
It reminded him of Ravenswood, the rehabilitation clinic she’d been admitted to after her mother’s murder, the place he’d visited her only once before her agonized screams had chased him away, resolved never to come back. And it wasn’t at all what he’d imagined for her.
Even at sixteen, Lily Cantrell had been complex. Colorful. Unpredictable. Dark, soulful eyes. A crease in her left cheek that never quite developed into a dimple when she smiled. A quick laugh and quicker temper.
She’d been more complex than her staid, generic home revealed. She still was.
And she was more beautiful than ever.
Her face was a mix of her father’s Anglo background and her mother’s Asian roots, pale skin with freckles and slightly slanted eyes. She still had shiny dark hair and a petite frame, but she’d gained enough weight to give her luscious breasts and hips where before she’d had none.
Her mouth seemed different, too. Less innocent. More sinful. Soft and full.
Rolling his shoulders, he closed his eyes. He’d hoped the passage of time and his current assignment would create some kind of natural barrier against any lingering feelings they had for one another, good or bad. He should have known it wouldn’t happen.
He’d always felt a strong connection to Lily. She’d been the ultimate good girl and he the neighborhood bad boy, but they’d been drawn to one another, first by the friendship between their mothers, then by the sheer pleasure of each other’s company. Eventually, he’d trusted her in a way he hadn’t even trusted his own family. Years ago, when his girlfriend Stacy Mitchell had accused him of dealing drugs, he’d told Lily the reason she’d done it—to hide the fact that she’d been doing it herself. That her father hit her and her uncle had done far worse. Wanting to protect Stacy despite what she’d done, he’d cautioned Lily not to tell anyone. She’d believed him and refused to give up their friendship, causing enormous strife between her and her parents.
Lily’s relationship with her cop father had suffered the most, leaving Lily particularly vulnerable when Chris Hardesty, a homeless man who had started hanging around at a nearby park, befriended her. Eventually, it was that friendship that had led Hardesty to Lily’s mother, Tina.
John reached for his cell phone and dialed the office number of Deputy Attorney General Lucas Thorn.
“Hi,” he said when the man answered. “This is John. I just saw Lily Cantrell and she wasn’t happy about it. Don’t be surprised if you get a call from Judge Cantrell fairly soon.”
“Damn. I was hoping she’d cooperate. Doesn’t she get we’re trying to speed Hardesty’s execution along, not stall it?”
John frowned at Thorn’s choice of words. He wasn’t trying to speed anything along, just trying to make sure both The Razor and Tina’s murderer were brought to justice, regardless of whether they were the same person or not. He knew Thorn wanted the same thing—he was probably just frustrated that the governor was taking Hardesty’s claims about The Razor seriously. “Did you tell the governor that a patch of Sandy LaMonte’s hair had been shaven, too, just like the girls before her?”
Thorn sighed on the other line. “I did. He doesn’t see it as a significant deviation from how Tina died. She was stabbed just like Tina. And as you already pointed out yourself, LaMonte looks even more like Tina than the victims before her.”
More like Tina. And more like Lily, John thought. Which was the only reason he was here. Once again, he stared at Lily’s door, as if doing so would give him another glimpse of the young girl who’d turned into a beautiful albeit mistrustful woman.
Had he been wrong to believe Lily’s life was in danger? Or had he simply used his fear to justify seeing her, when he’d sworn long ago to leave her in peace?
But it was Thorn who’d asked John to look into Tina Cantrell’s case. Thorn who hoped John’s findings would mollify the governor and rule out any connection with The Razor. And contrary to jumping at the opportunity, John had even expressed reluctance at first.
“But I knew the Cantrell family. We were neighbors. Our mothers were friends,” he’d said.
Only Thorn hadn’t seen that as a problem. It was a long time ago, and he trusted John to look at the evidence objectively. Besides, Thorn reminded him, looking into Tina’s murder was just a formality. It wasn’t as if anyone actually believed Hardesty was innocent.
Still, John hadn’t wanted to dig up old memories or the pain that came with them. Plus, looking into the case meant probably having to interview Tina’s family, including Lily. Better to let a stranger handle it, right?
But then something had struck him….
Inside his car, he reached into his satchel and shuffled through the photos until he had the right one, the one of The Razor’s latest victim, LaMonte.
Like the other victims, neither her purse nor the jewelry she was wearing had been disturbed. And she looked startlingly like Tina Cantrell and her daughter, Lily.
The Razor’s other victims had been dark-haired and petite, too, something he’d registered, of course, but it wasn’t until he’d put all the photos side by side that he saw just how much each subsequent victim looked more and more the way Lily had at sixteen.
It had to be coincidence. After all, if The Razor had killed Tina, why had he waited so long to kill again? Granted, they couldn’t know for sure he hadn’t killed other girls in other locations, but still …
In the end, logic hadn’t mattered. In that moment, he’d feared Lily was in danger. He still did.
Even after all the separation and regret, he wasn’t going to walk away. Even if it meant having to face her and their past, he wasn’t taking any chances. Lily had implied he was trying to hurt her and her family, but all he wanted to do was make sure they were safe, her most of all.
Fifteen years ago, she’d offered her love to him and he’d done what he’d thought was best. But in doing so, he’d hurt her. Terribly. Keeping her safe now was the least he could do.
Thorn’s comment about speeding along Hardesty’s execution once again echoed in his mind. It had just been a poor choice of words, John told himself. Thorn’s caseload had gotten intense in the past few months, which had to have contributed to his breakup with Carmen. It still pissed John off, especially when he saw how badly Carmen was taking the breakup, but he knew Thorn was hurting, too. It was obvious any time Carmen’s name came up. Plus, he’d worked with Thorn for years. He trusted him. He was a good guy.
Too bad Lily no longer trusted him.
Chapter 2
It was barely past dawn when John strode up to the El Dorado County Sheriff’s Satellite Office. Despite the prominent flagpole with the state and national flags in front, the squat tan building looked like a strip-mall dental office. Still, he loved working here, only about an hour north from where he’d grown up. The South Lake Tahoe scenery was idyllic—lush green trees, sparkling water, and snow-capped mountains. The pace was slow. The people relatively peaceful. It was a constant challenge that so many acted immune to the dangers of larger cities.
The murder of local girl Sandy LaMonte and the others before her proved they weren’t.
