Ryan McCall flipped open the manila envelope. “Do you know this woman?”
Alice stared at the woman in the photo. Dark hair. Wide smile. Heart-shaped face. She looked a little like Alice. “N-no…”
Ryan’s mouth tightened. “Her name is Vicki Sharpe. She was in the SUV, too.”
“Wh-what?”
“Her dead body was found in the rear of the vehicle. After the fire was extinguished, we discovered her. She’d been stabbed in the heart, just like all of the other Secret Admirer’s victims. Because most of the fire was centered near the vehicle’s engine and front seat, Vicki was still in fairly good condition for the ID.”
A dull ringing filled her ears. Had he just said the dead woman had been in “good condition”—wait, no, surely not. Surely, he hadn’t just said that a woman had been in the rear of the vehicle. And there was no way the agent had said that she’d been stabbed.
Her heartbeat came faster. Even harder. Alice struggled for breath. “I don’t understand…”
He slid another photograph toward her. “Do you know her?”
Another woman with dark hair. Blue eyes. A small mole near her lips. “I-I saw her on the news.” Alice was shaking now. “M-Mary Ellen—”
“Mary Ellen Jones. Another victim of the Secret Admirer.”
The killer who’d been in the news. The killer who’d terrorized the Savannah area for the last year. He abducted women, all dark-haired, blue-eyed, unmarried women in their mid-twenties. He kept them for a while…torturing them, then when he was done playing with his prey, the killer would stab his victims in the heart before he dumped their bodies.
The Press had dubbed him the Secret Admirer because a reporter had gotten a tip from an unidentified FBI source—that tip had revealed that the guy stalked his victims before he took them. That he sent them flowers. He talked with them online. He seduced them, and the women willingly left with him. But after he got them, after he took them away…
The women never escaped him again.
More photos were slid toward her. Three more women. “Why are you showing these to me?”
“Because we found jewelry belonging to all of these women…in your fiancé’s house.”
Alice shook her head. “That’s not right.”
It couldn’t be right. Please, don’t be right. Please.
“We found blood. The weapons he’d used on them.”
Alice put her hand to chest and pressed hard.
“Did you know?” Agent McCall’s voice seemed distorted. As if it had come from a great distance.
Alice couldn’t look away from the photos. All of the women looked like her. Too much like her.
“Did you know that the engagement ring you are wearing belonged to Mary Ellen Jones? It was her grandmother’s. Mary Ellen always wore it on a chain around her neck.”
Alice’s stomach twisted. She could feel bile rising in her throat.
“The ring is evidence, and I’m going to be taking it.”
She was already fighting to get the ring off her finger. Only it wouldn’t come off. It had always been a little too tight.
“Did you know he was a killer?”
Her gaze snapped up to lock on the FBI agent. He stared at her with a cold fury.
“Because that’s what I can’t figure out about you yet, Ms. May. You were closer to Hugh Collins than anyone else.”
She could barely breathe.
“Did you know what he was doing to those women? Did you know he was torturing them?” His questions battered at her. “Were you covering for him? Were you helping the sonofabitch?”
Chapter One
She didn’t look like a killer.
Zander Todd swept his gaze over his neighbor, knowing that his sunglasses would hide the direction of his stare. Alice May didn’t realize that he was watching her. She didn’t know that he was cataloging every single detail about her appearance.
Her long, thick, dark hair.
Her heart-shaped face. Her red lips. Her high cheekbones.
Her golden skin.
Her long legs.
Alice May was a looker, a woman who seemed to exude sex appeal. And, if the stories were true, if the FBI was right with their suspicions, she was also a killer. One who had managed to get away with her crimes so far.
“What do you think, Zander?” Alice asked as she stepped away from her flower bed, brushing her hands across her hips. “Does that look okay?”
“Fantastic.” He put an edge in his voice, one that she wouldn’t be able to overlook. Slightly flirtatious. Admiring.
She immediately jerked her gaze toward him. Her eyes went wide. Her little pink tongue gave a nervous swipe over her lower lip. She was good at that. Good at pretending to be innocent. Uncertain.
But the FBI brass didn’t think she was nearly as innocent as she seemed to be.
Alice May’s fiancé had been the infamous Secret Admirer. A man who’d murdered five women before he’d been killed.
The case should have been closed. Hugh Collins had died a year ago.
But two months ago, the Secret Admirer had claimed another victim.
Zander stepped closer to Alice. Her scent—light jasmine—teased him. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
He’d asked her out three times before. And every single time, Alice had shot him down. She hadn’t dated anyone since Hugh had died. Zander knew that for a fact, because the FBI had been watching her. Very, very closely.
Alice sucked in a sharp breath and her deep blue eyes widened. “I…don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’re seeing someone else. I get it.” But she wasn’t. Would she lie?
Alice shook her head. “No.”
“It’s me?” He flashed her a smile. He’d been told he had a good smile. Hell, most women found him charming. Alice didn’t seem to be like most women. “Just not that into me, huh?”
“No—you…um, you’re very handsome.”
He laughed at her words. Zander couldn’t help it. She’d just sounded all polite and courteous, like she was worried she’d hurt his feelings. She hadn’t. But she was making things difficult. His assignment was to get close to Alice. To get her to trust him. To get her to reveal details that she had never spilled during all of her interrogations.
“Did I say something funny?” A faint furrow appeared between Alice’s brows. She wiped her dirty hands on her faded jeans. Jeans that fit her like a second skin and showed Zander that Alice was one very, very sexy woman. Long legs. High breasts. Killer smile. Not that she smiled a lot. In fact, in the two months that he’d been working as a “handy man” in the area, Zander had only been able to coax about three smiles from her full lips.
He stilled his laughter. Gave a rueful shake of his head. “A woman as gorgeous as you probably has men lined up for miles, just waiting for her to give them a second glance.”
“I don’t date.” Her words held a brittle edge. “I…had a bad experience once.”
That had to be the understatement of the century, but Zander kept his expression controlled. “I’m sorry.” He made his voice gentle. “I didn’t mean to—to make you uncomfortable.” Time for his exit. If he pushed her too hard right now, Zander knew he’d lose her. He’d come out to her cabin to fix her sprinkler system. A system the FBI had sabotaged while she’d been stocking up on groceries the day before. The fix had taken all of three minutes, but it had given him an excuse to see her. To chat with her.
Spring had finally come to the little mountain town of Sky, North Carolina, and Alice had been eager to start her planting. She’d wanted colors. Flowers. She couldn’t have any of that without her sprinkler system…The FBI made her need me again.
Zander inclined his head toward Alice. “Have a good evening.” Then he turned on his heel. He made his steps slow and certain as he headed away from her. And he counted in his head…Five, four, three—
Her footsteps rushed behind him.
“Wait!” Alice’s fingers pressed to his arm. A fast touch, and then she hurriedly pulled back.
But he whirled toward her. “Something wrong?”
She rocked onto the balls of her feet. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t, Alice.” Shit, now he was feeling bad. It’s just a job. Sometimes, though, when he looked too deeply into her eyes, he could forget that. And he could get lost only seeing…her. “Look, I’m not the kind to pry. Something happened in your past, and you don’t want to date. That’s your business. I understand.”