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This wasn’t how it had been before.

Laura remembered. She’d been watching past this point before. She’d seen the waitress serve the table to the right—but now, instead, she turned and greeted her sister, the two of them embracing inside the café and someone else taking over the table.

It had changed. The vision was different this time around. They were together, not apart. And the killer wasn’t expecting it, because now he was casting around, trying to figure out what was going on just like she was. She couldn’t read his thoughts, but she could read his movements, the sharp way he lifted his head to watch them and ducked it whenever they seemed to look in his direction.

They were discussing something with what had to be the manager, and the waitress was taking off her apron. She folded it onto the counter and disappeared for just a moment, returning with a purse slung over her shoulder. Then the sisters left the café, walking out and down the road together.

Laura finished—no, the killer finished his coffee, setting the empty cup down and gathering his things in a measured way, as though he’d simply finished his drink and wanted to move on. No hurry, no rush. But he was in a rush. He needed to keep up with them.

He moved down the street, and Laura followed too. The girls walked arm in arm, clearly taking comfort in each other’s presence. They moved to a subway station and walked inside, and he followed at a short distance until he could watch them go through the ticket barriers.

Then he lounged back, like he was satisfied. His movements didn’t speak of frustration at having lost them. He hadn’t.

Laura realized, with a jolt, that he knew where they were going. He turned around toward the exit and—

Laura found her eyes closed, opened them forcibly to see the pile of papers in front of her sitting on her desk.

“It changed,” she breathed, just a sliver of a voice, and Nate cocked his head at her.

“What did you say?” he snapped.

Laura looked at him, blinking. She’d almost given away more than she’d meant to. She doubted he would have understood that as anything more than a cryptic statement, but still. She felt like she was spiraling out of control. His constant questions. The stress and worry about Amy, about Lacey’s custody hearing, about the case itself. The feeling of frustration toward her visions that had been building more and more lately.

She needed a drink.

No. She needed to solve this case.

“We made a mistake,” she said. She didn’t look at Nate. She hoped he would just hear her, instead of getting angry again. “The press conference. We just made it easier for him.”

“What are you talking about now?” Nate asked.

“The killer,” Laura insisted, frustrated that he didn’t just understand. “We told all the twins in the city to make sure they weren’t alone tonight. And what are they going to do? They’ll go to each other, of course. We’re so stupid! Why wouldn’t they rely on each other? And now all we’ve done is make it easier for him. Don’t you get it, Nate? We’ve encouraged them both to put themselves into the same location—into one of their homes—the exact place that we already know he can get to them!”

Nate stared at her for a moment and then shook his head, throwing his hands up into the air. “I just can’t win with you right now,” he said, muttering it almost under his breath.

And to her shock—he simply walked away.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

He watched them go into the subway and then turned, feeling lighter. He knew exactly where they were going now, didn’t need to follow them. All he had to see was which platform they were going to, and he’d known.

They were going to the waitress’s house. How strange. They normally spent the evenings apart on weekdays. He hadn’t caught sight of anything, overheard any plans. The waitress was often so talkative with her customers, telling them what she was getting up to that night.

She hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing her sister.

It was almost strange, watching them together. He hadn’t had the chance yet. They avoided each other, as they should. They had separate lives. One of them a bank teller, already

on the rise in her career. The other one nothing but a waitress. Surviving on tips, just trying to get by.

And yet now, here they were. And they’d even embraced one another when they met! Stranger things had happened, he knew. People were nice to others, even when they hated them. It was a human thing. To pretend. To avoid conflict.

But they seemed so close now, walking down the road. How could she stand to touch her sister like that? To be so close to her? Was she doing this under duress? He hadn’t heard what the banker had said when she walked into the café. Maybe she was strong-arming her sister into being like this.

The waitress was the weaker one. The one who put more stock in feelings, in people and relationships. Of course, she would be susceptible to it. He hadn’t been immune to that kind of pressure himself in the past. Ending up spending time with people who were nothing but bad for you.

He turned and headed for his car, knowing he could cut them off and arrive before they did. The time of day was good—less traffic on the roads. They’d both left work early, maybe to beat the rush hour on purpose. And he knew where they were going.

The train was fast, but they’d have to walk on the other side. He could drive there, pull up a couple of streets away, and jimmy that old, rotten back door he’d spotted before they got back. He hadn’t quite worked out where he would hide, but the plan had to change now, and he had to think on the move.


Tags: Blake Pierce Thriller