Fear For Me (For Me #2)(61)

“We’re going to search for signs of foul play because of the Walker case,” Paul continued, his voice staying calm and low. “But ma’am, if the judge willingly left the city, there isn’t anything that can be done.”

Julia’s narrow shoulders hunched. “I gave him so many years. I let him screw around with those whores, and this is what he does? He leaves me?” She ripped the handkerchief in two. “Let Walker get him. I don’t care! If the bastard dies, it will be better for me.” Her breath was ragged. “Better to be a widow than the fool he left behind.”





*


Pierce Hamilton slowly opened his eyes. His head hurt. It throbbed. He squinted as he tried to see around him. Where the hell am I?

“Waking up, are you?” The voice was taunting. “Sure as f*ck took you long enough.”

With effort, Pierce turned his head to the side.

Jon Walker smiled. “Did you think you were running somewhere?”

Pierce’s memory flooded back. He’d left the courthouse in a rush, but his car had been nearly out of gas. He’d filled the thing up a day ago, so it should have been able to go for miles. He’d found himself drifting into a small, rundown station on the edge of town. He’d started to fill up his tank…

Then someone had slammed his head into the side of his BMW, hard enough to break the f*cking window.

“I went to so much trouble to get back to you and Ms. Chandler.” Walker shook his head. “Did you think I would just let you walk away?” He took a step toward Pierce. The knife in his hand glinted. “You and I…we have some unfinished business.”

Fear rose in Pierce’s throat, nearly choking him. “I’m not the one to blame! I was just doing my job!”

“If you had done your job, you would have paid attention to the letters you got. Those damn letters said I should go free.”

His heart was about to jump out of his chest. “How do you know about those?”

“I know plenty.” Walker glanced around. “Like the fact your fishing cabin was empty, sitting all alone up here, waiting for someone to stop by for a nice little visit.”

Pierce’s eyes widened. This was his place. He hadn’t been here in at least two years. Julia hated the cabin, so he’d found other entertainment to keep him busy. But the antlers on the wall, the bear rug, the gleaming wood furniture—

Mine.

“Never would’ve guessed you loved to hunt and kill so much, Judge,” Walker drawled. “Looks like we have more in common than I thought.”

“We’re not alike! We’re nothing alike!” Pierce strained at his bonds. He was in one of the kitchen chairs. Behind him, his hands were wrapped with what felt like duct tape. He looked down and saw the gray line of duct tape around his ankles. He was trapped. Helpless.

The knife was so close to his skin.

The Bayou Butcher. He’d seen the crime scene photos, seen everything during the trial. He knew just how Walker liked to torture his prey. He also knew—

“You don’t kill men,” Pierce blurted, because what the hell else did he have to say? But it was the truth. Walker liked to hurt women, not men. It was part of the profile that had been revealed in court.

Walker laughed. “Tell that to the prison guard I gutted on my way out of Angola.”

Pierce shook his head. He wasn’t stupid. He’d had plenty of shrinks in his court over the years, so he understood more than most about the minds of killers. “It was fast, though, right? You don’t enjoy it when you kill men. Just women.” He licked his lips. “You would have enjoyed it if you’d gotten to kill Lauren.”

Walker’s face hardened. “I will kill the bitch.”

“Yes, yes, you will.” Pierce spoke quickly. “Call her, tell her I’m here, that you have me, and she’ll come running.” She’d also better come with that marshal who seemed glued to her side.

Or with the detective she’d screwed once upon a time.

Walker glanced down at the knife in his hand. “Women have softer skin. The knife just slices right through it.”

Sick freak.

“I sliced your girlfriend.” Walker glanced up with a sly smirk on his face. “Didn’t realize who she was to you, not at first. Just thought she was some dumb bitch friend of Lauren’s. And any friend of Lauren’s can damn well find herself under my knife.”

Pierce jerked at the duct tape. Don’t think about Karen.

“Karen, right? I found out her name later. I just called her bitch when I was slicing her.”

Pierce’s hands fisted.

“She started screaming that she had a powerful boyfriend, a judge who would give me anything if I let her live.” He laughed. “So stupid. She was your side piece. You wouldn’t give up anything for her.”

Pierce thought of Karen’s laughter. Such a sweet sound. He thought of the way she’d made him feel, like he should do more than let his life fade away. Like he should have dreams again.

“Call Lauren,” he managed to say, swallowing heavily. “Tell her—”

“I’m not calling anyone.”

Hell.

Walker stood directly in front of him now. “I was in that prison for eighteen hundred and sixty-five days. While I was behind those bars, in that f*cking tiny room, you were out. You were screwing your whore, riding in your fancy car, eating your fine dinners.”