Scream For Me: A Novel of the Night Hunter (For Me 3)

They pushed open the station’s doors. The questions flew at them.

“Is it true one of the victims helped the killer commit his crimes?”

Not just one of the victims. Two had.

“Detective McKenzie, have you found your sister?”

Kyle didn’t even slow down. He figured someone had leaked that tidbit to the press.

“Was Detective Marsh the killer?”

The SUV’s doors slammed closed. Kyle pulled away from the station.

Silence.

Cadence stared down at her hands. She wished she had been at the station when Susannah arrived.

Could she have saved her?

Maybe.

Or maybe Susannah had just been ready for death.

Maybe she’d been ready since she woke up, locked in a tomb deep within the ground.

“It consumed me,” Kyle said.

At his rumbling words, Cadence glanced over at him. His words had seemed hesitant, when he was never the sort for hesitancy.

“Finding her was all I had. It kept me going for years. The thought I’d bring her home.”

He drove easily through the twisting roads, following the GPS instructions as they filled the interior of the SUV.

“Then I met you.”

He never took his gaze off the road.

“Something else started to consume me.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Kyle.”

“I don’t know how you feel about me. But I wanted you to know. Cadence, sometimes I feel like I’m not even f**king alive if you’re not near me.” His hands had tightened around the wheel. “Love is supposed to be easy, isn’t it? Kind and good. The way I feel about you…it’s dark. Sometimes, I worry it’s closer to obsession.”

They were leaving the small town. Heading for the outskirts. Heading to Susannah’s home.

“If you want to get the f**k away from me, hell, maybe it would be for the best.” He shook his head. “But I’m not even sure I could let you go. I feel like I’d spend the rest of my life—”

He broke off, but she knew what he’d been going to say.

Looking for you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kyle.”

Her hand touched his.

He slanted her a fast glance.

“I’m right where I want to be,” she told him. Beside the man I want to be with.

“I’m going to let go of the past, Cadence,” he promised her. “I know it’s time. I want a present. I want a life, with you.”

That was what she wanted, too. Hope beat inside of her, warming her when she’d felt cold for so long. Kyle had always been the one to push them forward, to keep hoping for the victims. Cadence had been afraid to hope. She’d seen too much death. Been forced to tell too many grieving families that their loved ones would never come back.

But Kyle had taught her to see past the darkness. No, he’d taught her that even in that darkness, hope still lived.

“We’ll tie up the loose ends. Then we’ll put this town, this whole place, behind us.”

A new start. Together.

Cadence nodded. Her breath seemed to ease, and the shadows of the past that had weighed her down for so long suddenly didn’t seem quite as heavy.

They didn’t speak again during the drive.

The beeping of the smoke alarm reached Heather Crenshaw’s ears. She frowned, then glanced around the station.

She inhaled and caught the scent. Smoke. Fire.

She could hear the crackle of flames.

She raced down the hallway and threw open the door to the small room Dani had been using for her work at the station.

Fire raced around the room. The videos were melting—all of the tapes, the CDs, everything.

Breath heaving, Heather shouted for help. Two other cops ran inside. One had a fire extinguisher. They doused the flames.

But…

The evidence was ruined.

The tapes. The victims. Gone.

“What the hell happened here?” the captain demanded as he came up behind her.

She could only stare at the remains and wonder…what had happened?

Someone had just destroyed their evidence. But the killer should have already been dead.

And dead men didn’t start fires.

It looked as if no one had actually lived in the little cabin beside the county line. There were no pictures. No mementos. No little knickknacks inside.

A small, scarred wooden table.

Two chairs.

The den consisted of a brown couch. A TV.

No magazines. No books.

The bedroom was organized in the same spartan way. A double bed. Blue comforter. A chest of drawers to the right.

Susannah’s clothes were all hung up, nice and neat, in the closet. No, not Susannah. Shelly. Shelly Summers.

“She lived here for five years, and this is all that’s left behind?” Kyle shook his head. He’d never seen a woman live so sparingly. Never seen a man do that, either. This place, there was just—

Nothing.

Cadence glanced above them. “She liked the light.”

Frowning, Kyle glanced up and he realized those weren’t ordinary bulbs. They were too bright. Too strong.

He went back into the den. The small kitchen. The same bulbs with the powerful wattage were in those rooms, too.

He looked at her front door. Extra locks. He’d had to break those locks to get inside.

“There are just as many locks on the back door.”

“She was still afraid of him.” So afraid that she hadn’t ever gone to the cops. Until today. When she went in with a gun.

Cadence nodded, then she went back to Shelly’s bedroom. She started opening those drawers. Going through them, one by one.

“It doesn’t look like there is anything here.” Why wasn’t there anything personal in the whole place?

Susannah was dead, and the cabin already felt like a grave to him.

“Heather, come out back with me for a moment.”

The captain’s voice floated to her. Most of the others had already cleared out of the station because the smell of smoke was so strong. The firefighters had come in, making sure no flames remained.

There was no more fire. No more evidence, either.

“Sir.” She hurried away from her desk and followed him outside. The fresh air felt so good when it hit her. Heather inhaled greedily.

“I want to know the truth.” The captain’s voice was gruff. The hard note in it had her whirling toward him. “Did you start that fire?”

Shocked, Heather could only shake her head. “Of course not!” Why would he even question her?

“You were the first one in there. The others told me—”