Scream For Me: A Novel of the Night Hunter (For Me #3)(13)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Maria McKenzie. Cadence opened the file with a click. Date of birth—May 17. Cadence hunched over the laptop.

Maria had been so young.

Cadence clicked on the attached images. Maria’s face filled her screen. A beautiful girl, with hair a shade lighter than her brother’s but with eyes just as blue.

Beautiful, and lost.

Cadence started clicking through the file.

Date of disappearance—August 23.

She’d seen the date before, back when she’d been vetting her new partner. But that date hadn’t meant anything to her, not over a year ago.

The date certainly meant something now.

Her breath froze in her lungs. What. The. Hell.

He should have told me.

No wonder Kyle was reacting this way. Going hard-core on her in the field. His sister had vanished fifteen years ago, exactly fifteen years ago, to the date of Lily’s own abduction. Two a.m. Cadence’s gaze slid to the clock as a shiver went over her. Lily had been abducted at two a.m. on August 23.

What are the odds? Kyle had asked her that question.

Now she knew…no odds are that high.

She also understood just why her partner seemed to be breaking apart on her.

He was reliving the nightmare from his past.

As soon as he’d found out about Lily’s disappearance, it must have made Kyle relive the nightmare of his sister’s abduction. He was still reliving that nightmare, and she wanted to help him. Wanted to give him some peace.

But there was no peace to offer. Only another victim, one who could still be alive…or who could already be dead by the perp’s hand.

The FBI was in Paradox. Little Paradox. And that FBI agent, the one leaning over the bar and glaring at those around him—

I know you.

Kyle McKenzie was back in town. The guy must think he was some kind of big shot. His face was sure splashed in the papers often enough. A profiler, hunting dangerous killers.

But you’ve never caught me. All these years, and you’ve never even come close.

Sharon handed the agent another beer. She was talking with him. Crying.

Like the bitch really cared about Lily. No one had cared about her. No one but me.

He eased toward the back door. The FBI agent wasn’t even looking his way. He wanted to smile. Wanted to laugh.

But he held it back, because he didn’t need to draw any attention to himself.

Then he was outside. The hot night air hit him as he glanced toward the back of the building. Lily’s parking spot was empty.

It would stay that way.

He headed for his own vehicle. The cops weren’t out hunting through the woods then, so it meant he had time to go and visit his favorite girl.

He knew Lily would be happy to see him.

She’d better be.

If she wasn’t, then he’d hurt her. Sometimes, even good girls had to be punished.

He climbed into his car, then saw the agent come out of Striker’s. The man’s body was tense. Angry.

Emotion seemed to roll from McKenzie.

The agent jumped into his SUV. Hurried from the lot. Never even glanced over at him as he waited in the dark.

I’m right here.

The FBI agents thought they were something special. They weren’t. They had no clue about what was happening in this town. What had been happening, for so long.

It’s time they knew. It was time the whole world knew.

The Bayou Butcher. The Valentine Killer. Those bastards were the ones getting the attention. They couldn’t even come close to his power. They were in his shadow. Always would be.

McKenzie pulled away.

He hesitated. Lily was waiting. He needed to go to her. Touch her. Remind her that he was there for her.

But the agent with all the rage boiling just below his surface…I need to watch him.

He cranked his car. Followed behind McKenzie.

Lily had never realized he was behind her. So many hadn’t. Folks just didn’t bother to look back. Would the agent be any more aware?

He turned on his radio and got ready to enjoy the hunt.

Kyle braked in front of the motel. The No Vacancy sign flashed. He stared up at their room, trying to see if the light was still on. He’d thought the beer might take the edge off for him.

It hadn’t.

And to make his mood even worse, he’d run into Marsh at the bar. The cop had seemed a little too interested in Cadence and her dating status.

Hell. Now he had that cop sniffing around Cadence. Not that she’d be interested in a guy like that. Marsh was too rough. Not her type at all.

But what the hell is her type?

He headed up the stairs.

The blare of a car’s radio reached his ears. He turned, frowning, but all he could see were taillights as they disappeared down the road. Taillights and the lingering beat of hard, driving music.

He finished climbing the stairs and hesitated when he reached room 207. He lifted his hand, thought about knocking, then realized—hell, it’s my room, too. He’d been gone plenty long enough. Cadence should have been finished with her shower and dressed by that point.

Though she really hadn’t needed to dress on his account.

He unlocked the door and found the room dark inside. The only light spilling in came from the weak bulb just outside the door.

He eased into the room, trying to be quiet. For her. A quick twist of his wrist locked the door. Then he stood a moment, trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, before realizing a small glow drifted from her laptop. She’d left the laptop open, just a few inches, and it sat on the small desk near the TV.

As for Cadence—he could see the outline of her body in the narrow bed.

I want to be in that bed with her.

But she sure hadn’t been issuing any invitations to him.

He eyed the floor. There was a pillow down there and what looked like the lump of a blanket. Talk about giving a guy a hint. His lips hitched up in a grim smile.

He’d take the hint. For now. But one day Cadence might just be asking for more.

Begging for it.

Ah, nice fantasy.

Kyle headed into the bathroom. When the door shut behind him, he flipped on the light and looked at his reflection. Stubble covered his cheeks, the lines near his mouth seemed deeper. But his eyes—

Rage.

He knew he had it inside. Building, twisting him. But he would contain the fury. He’d kept it contained for years.

He could keep doing it.

Being back in this place, fifteen years to the f**king day—his hands fisted.

Fifteen years.

I don’t need a babysitter.

His sister’s voice drifted through his mind as Kyle squeezed his eyes closed.

His response played through his head just as easily. Yeah, well, Mom says you can’t take a trip like that by yourself. So guess who’s going shotgun?