Fear For Me: A Novel of the Bayou Butcher(65)

“Please…” Julia’s voice stopped him as he headed for the door.

He glanced back at her.

“I don’t want to bury my husband.”



The interview was over, and Lauren felt exhausted. Her stitches ached, her head ached, and her heart hurt.

I don’t think we’re going to find Hamilton alive. She wanted to have hope, but she didn’t.

“Come with me.” She turned at the sound of Anthony’s voice. He led her back into the station and pulled her into the conference room that the task force had been using.

As soon as they were inside, he shut the door. A glance to the right showed Lauren that the profile board had been moved. She knew Cadence had ordered it be removed for the time being, because she hadn’t wanted to risk any reporters sneaking inside for a look.

Even though the board was gone, Lauren still shivered, remembering all of the faces.

Jenny’s face.

“Matt and I are going to meet up with Paul and Wesley at Hamilton’s fishing cabin.”

Her heart started to beat faster. “Did Paul find—”

“No, it’s a hunch. My gut is telling me the place would sure as hell make a perfect kill site.”

She flinched.

“Jim has orders to stick with you.”

He was leaving her behind. Her brows climbed. “I thought we were a team on this.”

He brushed back a lock of her hair. The back of his palm lingered on her cheek. “I can’t hunt him if I’m worried about you. You need to stay here. Where you’re safe. Where there are a dozen cops right beside you.” He bent and brushed his lips over hers. “You’re hurting, don’t you think I know?”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m not taking you back to the swamp. I won’t put you in his path again.”

“You didn’t put me there before.” She didn’t want him blaming himself. “I did that all on my own.” Apparently, she’d been in Walker’s path for years—long before the trial. Back when she’d just been a kid.

“Stay with Jim. Let him and the cops keep watch—”

“I have to go back to my office.” She needed to check in with her staff. Make certain the cases they had to prosecute were set. Walker wasn’t the only killer out there.

His lips tightened. Well, tough. She had a job. People who needed her. She wouldn’t let Walker destroy everything she had. “I have to go.”

“Fine, but then Jim goes, too. So does a patrol.” He was adamant. “I won’t have you unprotected. I can’t do my job if I think you’re unsafe.”

She nodded. “I’ll take Jim and the patrol.” She wasn’t stupid and she sure didn’t have a death wish.

His forehead rested against hers. “I can’t get you out of my head.”

She had more of a problem keeping him out of her heart.

“No one else has ever been like you.” His confession could have been hers.

She swallowed and whispered, “Go.”

He pulled back and studied her with a guarded gaze. “Even when I catch Walker, this isn’t over.”

The words sounded like a warning.

He left as Jim eased into the office and gave her a weak smile. “I promise, ma’am,” he said, with a little nod, “you can count on me.”

She was in a police precinct—the safest place on earth. She wasn’t afraid for herself right now.

It was Anthony she was worried about.

Her gaze slid after him.

Come back to me.



Walker shoved the knife hilt deep into Hamilton’s chest.

Blood soaked Pierce Hamilton’s shirt. The life drained from his eyes, and his head hung forward, sagging toward the gaping wound in his chest.

“One more down.”

It was becoming something he now had to do. He walked toward the old desk, found a slip of paper, tore it in half, and made the perfect size he needed.

“What are you doin’?” Jon’s partner asked.

“Leaving Lauren a message.” With blood still staining his fingers, he scrawled, The blood is on you.

If Lauren had just died like she should have yesterday, he would have left this rat hole town already. Hamilton would have gotten to keep living. Sure, he’d thought about killing the judge, and he’d sure enjoyed trashing the guy’s office, but Lauren was the one he really wanted.

Only she’d gotten away. So he’d had to take other prey. Had to slake the thirst for vengeance that grew and grew inside of him.

He folded the paper and stalked back toward Hamilton. The judge didn’t look so high and mighty anymore. If it took the cops a few days to find him, he’d be rotten. Stinking. Decay and garbage. Exactly the end he deserved.

He yanked the knife from the judge’s chest. “Open wide,” he muttered and then he sliced the bastard’s throat. His fingers jammed the piece of paper into the bloody opening.

The floor creaked behind him. His partner came closer. A hard hand landed on Jon’s shoulder and yanked him around. “That’s not how it’s done.” Rage darkened his partner’s eyes.

“That’s how I do it.” Jon had learned from this man before. Done everything his way. For so many years. Too many.