Jamie’s eyes widened in fake shock and she darted out of the family room. He began chasing his daughter throughout the house.
He laughed at her shrieks and caught up with her in her bedroom.
He swept Jamie off her feet, and she squealed and shouted, “Mommy, Mommy help me!”
“No one’s going to save you from the Daddy Monster,” he said, tickling her stomach.
They paused when his wife called up the stairs to announce some of the kids for Jamie’s birthday party had begun to arrive.
“They’re here!” Jamie’s eyes shined with excitement.
He widened his eyes in mock surprise and gasped. “Then you’d better hurry!”
Jumping out of his arms, Jamie rushed down the stairs.
He stood in his daughter’s rainbow-colored room, drawing in a deep breath.
He’d strained his side a bit during the scuffle he had with the FBI agent. He still hadn’t been able to figure out how they managed to find where he worked out of, but now he needed to find another location. He decided it was best for him to lay low for a couple of weeks. He would use the time to find somewhere else, find another victim, then the surprise he had for Agent O’Reilly would come in effect.
Over the next few days, he would watch the agents carefully before returning to the house. There was something he needed to retrieve. Something special he planned on giving Agent O’Reilly. He wasn’t worried, though. There was no way the agents would find the album. He hid it somewhere they wouldn’t even think to look.
Pushing the pain from his side out of his mind, he made a beeline for the living room. He saw a small group of kids, including Alice, had arrived, and were playing in the backyard. The parents were hanging around in the family room.
“Hey, how are you doing?” he said, slapping a few of the men on their backs. He leaned in to hug the women in their lives. “It’s so wonderful to see you again. Thank you for coming.”
He listened in on their chatter. As the party of people grew in attendance, he overheard some of the women talk amongst themselves about the recent murders.
He frowned as he joined in the conversation by the party table.
“I really hope they catch this guy soon,” he told the group. “I hate knowing my own wife could be in danger.” He glanced at his wife, who went to answer the door for more arrivals. “And with work, I can’t always be here to protect her.”
He dished out a ladle full of red punch she had made earlier while he was at the other house and sipped it.
“Oh, I know it,” one woman said. She put a consoling hand on his elbow and patted him. “It’s scary knowing the killer can be standing right next to you, and you don’t even know.”
He took another sip.
Yes, it is quite scary, isn’t it?
He continued making his rounds amongst the guests, and when it was time, he put eight candles on the cake and lit them.
He brought it to the picnic table outside. They joined in chorus, singing “Happy Birthday.”
“Now make a wish, pumpkin.”
He watched as his daughter closed her eyes and blew the candles out with one breath.
43
After Monroe was debriefed, she insisted both Shaun and Aidan go home for the night. Aidan resisted because he wanted to get back to work and find the offender now more than ever.
It didn’t matter to Aidan that the pain in his knee was taking its vengeance, but in the end, he was forced to cave.
He was spending the remainder of the night with his leg iced and propped on pillows as the EMT originally ordered. Cheyenne hadn’t said anything about his injuries, but he was sure the time would soon come—he could see it in her eyes.
Aidan had received a text an hour and a half ago from Agent Douglas saying they had brought Thomas Blake in for questioning. According to him, he’d rented the house to a man named Ron Heady.
Thomas claimed to have never met Heady personally—only over the phone.
Heady had wanted to rent the place off the books, and because Thomas loved money more than background or credit checks, he went along with it.
Douglas ran the background check and learned Heady was an eighty-three-year-old man who had died of pneumonia two years prior.
Aidan made the suggestion to Douglas to go after Jordan Blake for more questioning.
It was making sense to him that his instinct was wrong, and Jordan Blake could easily be The Carnations Killer. After all, he lied numerous times. It didn’t take much to believe he could easily use his uncle’s house to murder the women.
Aidan used the free time to watch various news stations, but primarily WJFX.
Surprisingly, Jordan Blake hadn’t been reporting anything in the last few days.
He had texted Agent Douglas to see whether or not they’d made contact with him. The answer came that Jordan seemed to have vanished. His uncle wasn’t being helpful with his nephew’s whereabouts, which made Aidan all the more suspicious.
Thomas had gone from being helpful to silent.
Did he think Jordan killed these women? Was he trying to protect him?
“Do you need anything?”
Cheyenne stepped in front of the couch where Aidan was lying and looked at him. He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.
“Yes,” he told her. “I need you to sit.”
She frowned. “Aidan, we’ve got to talk.”
The doorbell interrupted them, and Aidan let out a soft curse, which resulted in the famous Cheyenne glare.
“Why does it seem like every day I need to tell
