Till Death

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Even though I’d already been down this road more than once, I told them everything I remembered, taking breaks to sip my water. It wasn’t until I was finished telling them about discovering Angela’s missing house key did I remember what I’d suspected from earlier.

  “I think I might’ve figured out who took Angela’s key. I could be wrong—”

  “Let us be the ones to determine that,” Myers said.

  I glanced at the men. “I think it might’ve been Coach Currie. It’s why I called you earlier,” I said to Tyron. “The emblem that I’d told Derek—I mean, Officer Bradshaw about? I think it was the bulldog—the high school mascot. I know thousands of people could have that baseball cap and shirt, but . . . I heard he was being questioned this morning, and that was what triggered the fact the emblem on the hat seemed vaguely familiar.”

  Tyron arched a brow, but didn’t, thankfully, ask how I knew Currie had been questioned. “Do you have any type of relationship with Coach Donnie Currie?”

  “No. I mean, he was coaching at the school when I went there, but that’s the extent of how I know him.”

  “But he was around during the time of the Groom,” Rodriquez stated. “You haven’t seen him since you returned, other than when you believe you ran into him at the inn?”

  “I haven’t seen him. At all. I’ve only gone out once really, and that was to a restaurant down the street with my friends.”

  “Which restaurant was that?” Rodriquez asked.

  “The steakhouse a few blocks down,” I explained, giving them the name. “That was a week ago.”

  Myers shifted in his seat. “Anyone else who you’ve talked with? Tyron here has told us you’re seeing Cole Landis.”

  I nodded once more. “Yes. We . . . um, we dated before I left, and we just reconnected.”

  “You didn’t stay in contact during the years you were gone?”

  Looking at Myers, I shook my head. “No. I only stayed in contact with my mother and my friend Miranda.”

  “But you two are together so . . . quickly?”

  The tips of my ears tingled. “Once he heard I was back in town, he came to see me and the rest . . .” The rest was really none of his business. “We reconnected.”

  “Huh,” murmured Myers. “Just like that? Interesting.”

  Tyron’s eyes narrowed.

  My breath caught. “Yeah, just like that. What are you insinuating?”

  “Not insinuating anything, ma’am.” Myers moved on. “Anyone you’ve met that you might’ve thought was acting strangely?”

  One person came to mind, and it was possibly the most awkward place to bring it up. “There has been someone, but it’s going to sound crazy. When I went out to dinner, I ran into the mayor.”

  “Mayor Hughes?” Tyron questioned.

  “Yes.” I told them about the mayor’s odd behavior and his second visit. “I know he’s worried about me possibly stirring up the past, but it just, I don’t know, feels like more than that.”

  The two agents shared a look and then Rodriquez said as he scribbled something on a piece of paper, “Anyone else?”

  I shook my head. “There is no one else. I’ve thought about this. There isn’t anyone else that I know of.”

  “How close were you to Angela Reidy?” Myers asked, suddenly shifting topics quick enough to give me whiplash.

  “Not that close,” I responded truthfully. “I’d just met her last week, but I know she’s been working at the inn for a while.”

  The door cracked open and a younger officer stuck his head in. “Conrad, you got a second? There’s something I need you in.”

  Tyron nodded and rose. “I think it’s Miss Reidy’s family. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, thinking I had it so much easier than what Angela’s family was experiencing right now. I watched him leave and then faced the two agents.

  Myers’ dark eyes met mine. “Did you two have any arguments?”

  “What?” Shock splashed through me, locking up my muscles.

  “It’s just normal line of questioning,” he replied.

  I glanced at Rodriquez. His expression was impressively blank. “I didn’t know Angela well enough to have an argument with her. From what I know of her, she’s really nice—was really nice,” I corrected myself with a wince. “Actually, really sweet. She’s someone I would call bubbly and talkative.”

  Myers cocked his head to the side. “So, you barely knew her, but she’s dead and her finger—”

  The door swung open with force and suddenly Cole was storming into the room, his eyes like glacial ice. Relief poured into me.

  “What the fuck?” Cole demanded, walking around the table.

  Rodriquez leaned back in the chair, dropping his pen on the table as Myers rose. “This is not even your department, Landis. You have no reason to be in on this interview.”

  “Doesn’t have anything to do with me?” He stopped in front of Tyron’s empty chair and planted a fist on the table. “You haul my woman into the damn police station to question her about a murder she just found out about?”

  Myers’ face flushed with anger. “It’s protocol, and you damn well know that.”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck if it’s protocol or not, you have my number, you should’ve called me,” Cole fired back, straightening. “I know how you work, Myers. That shit isn’t going to happen here.”

  “Oh, you know how I work?” Myers snorted. “How about you go—”

  “Finish that sentence and that’s the last thing you’ll be doing with your mouth for a while,” Cole warned.

  “All right. Everyone chill the hell out.” Tyron appeared in the doorway. Over his shoulders, I saw a couple of blue uniforms. “No one needs this shit right now.”

  Cole drew in a deep breath as he pinned a stare on his friend. “This shouldn’t have happened this way. You know that.”

  “And that’s why I called you the moment I knew they were heading to talk to her,” Tyron responded.

  “Fucking A,” muttered Myers, sitting back down.

  Surprised, I glanced up at Cole, but he was still eyeballing Myers like he wanted to put him through the wall. I was sensing there was definitely a past between the two of them that was not friendly. Cole had to have sped like a demon to get from Baltimore to here.

  Rodriquez lifted his chin. “You know we had to talk to her.”

  “And you know what she’s been through,” Cole shot back. “You do not pull her into the station like she’s a damn suspect.”

  Myers pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s connected to this. You know that. I know that.”

  My stomach dropped, and even though I’d figured that out the moment they told me that they believed the severed finger belonged to Angela, I’d had literally no time to process this.

  “We need to find out what the connection is,” Rodriquez said, voice carefully even. “That’s why we’re talking to her.”

  “You don’t do it this way,” Cole responded. He turned to me, his hand curving around the nape of my neck. Our eyes met, and it was the first time he’d looked at me since bursting into the room. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered, because I figured saying something other than that would not be wise in the moment.

  His eyes searched mine for a moment and then he looked over at Rodriquez. “Do you all need anything else from her?”

  He shook his head. “We pretty much got what we need.”

  “Which isn’t much,” snapped Myers.

  A muscle flexed along Cole’s jaw and he opened his mouth to respond, but I beat him to it. “If I can be of any help, I will be. I’ve told you everything I know, and if that hasn’t been of any help, then I’m sorry.”

  “So, nothing else?” Cole asked, tone hard as he slid his hand to my shoulder. When they didn’t answer, he said, “Let me get you out of here.”

  Glancing at the agents, I grabbed my purse off the floor and stood. Tyron m
oved out of the doorway as Cole folded me into his side. We walked out of the room, and into the narrow hall.

  Cole’s arm around my shoulders tightened as we walked toward the back door. Tyron followed us out into the fading afternoon sun.

  “Hold on a sec,” Tyron said, waiting for us to stop. He glanced at Cole and then looked down at me. “I’m sorry that they pulled you in there. That conversation could’ve happened at the inn.”

  I folded my arms across my stomach. “It’s over. It’s whatever, but . . . someone really is copying the Groom, aren’t they? That’s what’s happening here.”

  Tyron placed his hands on his hips. Wind stirred the white dress shirt he wore. “We aren’t a hundred percent sure yet.”

  Cursing under his breath, Cole lifted his gaze to the sky. “What else would be going down? Someone out there is following in that dead son of a bitch’s footsteps. And you and I both know what’s coming next.”

  Tyron didn’t respond, but he knew. So did I. If there was someone out there copying the Groom then that meant . . . that it was already too late for the next victim.

  Because if this person knew enough about the Groom and was following the Groom’s pathology, then the next victim was already taken.

  * * *

  The woman had no idea why it was her, why she was here in this cold place that smelled of dirt and death. Angela had known. She’d known the moment she’d opened those pretty eyes and seen where she was.

  Angela had cried.

  She’d begged.

  Like they all did, and there was nothing wrong with that. If they hadn’t pleaded for their lives, then what life did they have?

  Angela had known who to blame. She’d known whose fault all of this was as the blade cut deep into her finger, severing it. She’d known when she took her last wheezing breath that she’d still be alive if she hadn’t come back.

  But this woman, in her plain white blouse and one-size-too-big black pants, had no fucking clue. It was perfect, really. Angela would be bad enough, but this one . . . oh yeah, this one was the icing on the fucking cake. This woman was someone who simply had the poor luck of crossing paths with her.

  This one would prove no one was safe.

  Chapter 23

  Snow fell, dotting the night sky and blanketing the ground below. From where I stood in my living room, looking out below, I couldn’t tell how much was out there, and I had no idea when it would stop, but there was nothing more beautiful than freshly fallen snow. It was one of the things I’d missed most when I lived in the South.

  When Cole and I got back from the police station, Mom had returned, and I told her and Jason what had happened.

  It had been horrible.

  Because I recognized the look in my mom’s eyes as the news of Angela’s fate processed, as she worked through the details of what had happened to the poor girl and what that meant. She had stared at me like she had when she said she almost wished I hadn’t come home. Now I don’t think she “almost” wanted that.

  It was a definite.

  Jason had sat down, his gaze far off, and he remained at the kitchen table; the only thing he’d said for about an hour was, “She was just eating cookies.”

  Here one moment, gone in the worst way the next.

  Miranda had come over in the evening, and by that point, what happened to Angela had hit the evening news, and it was all the newscaster spoke about. We’d sat quietly, and then we’d tried to change the subject. Miranda talked about Coach Currie and the rumors flying around about him.

  When we lapsed into silence again, I immediately jumped on another subject, wanting to hold back other darker, more troubling thoughts. “Can I ask you something?”

  Her brows rose. “Uh. Yeah.”

  “Is there something going on between you and Jason?”

  “What?” Her head whipped toward mine so fast I was surprised she didn’t hurt herself. “Why would you ask that?”

  “Well, you two seem really close.” I nudged her arm. “Like I get you guys have stayed friends this whole time, but . . .”

  “But what?”

  “But there’s just something there,” I said, grinning when she sighed heavily. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I—”

  “We hooked up,” she interrupted me, and when my eyes widened, she smacked her hands over her face. “It was a couple of months ago. We went out. Both of us were drinking. We weren’t super drunk, but one thing led to another, and yeah, we hooked up.”

  I twisted toward her. “Wow. Okay. I suspected something, but wasn’t a hundred percent sure.”

  She lowered her hands. “We haven’t really talked about it. He’s still technically married even though he’s separated, but . . . yeah, it hasn’t been weird or anything. And I don’t think he’s getting back with Cameron.”

  I processed all of that. “Do you like him, as in you want more than just that one random, not entirely drunk hookup?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, untypically unsure. “I mean, I like him. I really do. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I don’t know, there’s just something cute about his nerdiness. And that man’s got a body under those dress shirts and slacks.”

  Holding my hands, I warded all the info off. “I really don’t want to think about Jason’s body, because that would be weird for me.”

  Miranda laughed.

  “Why don’t you talk to him, be up front about wanting to see how things go?” I asked.

  Her lips curved up on the corner as she tucked a braid back behind her ear. “Maybe I will, but I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. I couldn’t deal with that, you know?”

  “Yeah.” I pressed my lips together. “But I think you should think about it. He seems to really be into you and you seem to really like him more than just a friend.”

  She nodded slowly, but I had a feeling that she wasn’t ready to broach that conversation with Jason. I didn’t blame her for that.

  Miranda had left before it got too late, and I made her text me when she got home. She hadn’t balked at the idea, and I’d relaxed when I got the message from her saying her “ass was in bed.”

  Tugging the ends of my heavy cardigan together, I shifted my weight to my other foot. It was late, well past two in the morning, and I’d long since given up on trying to sleep. The respite from the restless nights hadn’t lasted long, because even with Cole slumbering next to me, I couldn’t sleep. Not wanting to disturb him, I’d slipped out of the bed and made my way out to the living room. I watched the snow fall, my mind caught up in the twisted memories of the past and the horror of what was happening now.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Angela and her family. This shouldn’t have happened to her. This shouldn’t happen to anyone, but it had to her, and I knew deep down it had also happened to the poor woman from Frederick.

  Should’ve known better than to believe in coincidences.

  Now a nightmare from the past was back, and I had to believe this was happening. Someone was out there and they’d already killed one woman, most likely two, and I knew that if the person was following the behaviors of the Groom, he already had someone else.

  Stomach churning, I closed my eyes. It could be anyone. Not necessarily even someone who’d lived here ten years ago. You could find anything on the Internet, including sites dedicated to serial killers, where they were talked about as if they were celebrities. Their sick predilections discussed with enough information that you could recreate every murder down to the last detail. Someone from anywhere in the world could’ve decided they were going to introduce the world to the Groom, round two.

  But why—why the Groom out of all the serial killers with higher body counts and who were more well known? Why did it start when I returned? Actually, it had started right before I returned with the woman from Frederick. Did it—

  So caught up in my thoughts, I gasped when I felt strong arms circle my waist from behind.

  “Sasha.” Cole’s deep voice rumbled in
my ear. “How long have you been out here?”

  I relaxed into his embrace. “Not too long. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “Babe.” His chin dragged along the side of my neck. “If you can’t sleep, you wake me. I’ll help you get back to sleep. You talk to me about what’s on your mind that’s keeping you awake, and if