Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle #12)(30)

“Jeremy came in and found them. He retrieved his handgun and shot Fran. Once. Then called us.”

“Where is he? And the kids?”

“His parents came to get the kids, and he’s at the police station, giving a statement and being evaluated.”

I walk out of the bathroom, unable to look any longer at the holes in Karen’s head where her eyes should be.

Fran is on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Lifeless.

“I arrested her two days ago for stalking and harassment. She bit the hell out of Anderson, sending him to the hospital.”

“I know,” Matt says. “She posted bail yesterday morning.”

“And came here seeking revenge.”

“Looks that way.”

“She was one fucked-up woman. You’re not going to charge him.” It’s not a question, and Matt shakes his head no.

“It was self-defense.”

“Agreed. God. How can I help?”

“I’ll need copies of your reports, and Jeremy asked to speak to you. So, if you don’t mind going to the office and talking with him, I’d appreciate it.”

“Done. What do you say to someone whose pregnant wife was literally gutted in his bathroom?”

Matt just shakes his head. “I’m so fucking pissed off, I would kill her myself if he hadn’t finished the job. And that makes me a shitty cop.”

“It makes you a good cop and a good man. You have a wife.”

“And a baby on the way,” he says. “I can’t imagine it.”

“The medical examiner on the way?”

“He’s outside. I asked him to wait until after you got here. I’d also like you to take a look around, make sure nothing is different from two days ago when you were here. I don’t want to miss anything.”

“I’ll look around on my way out, but aside from the blood, nothing stands out.”

He nods, and I walk out, checking through the rooms I was in before. It doesn’t look like Fran was in there. Nothing is broken or moved. Nothing seems suspicious.

But when I turn to walk outside, one word is written in red on the back of the door.

Mine.





Starla

I’ve gone over this line sixty times, and I just can’t get it right. I don’t love the melody, and I certainly don’t like the lyrics.

I lean my forehead on the piano. I’ve been at it too long. I’m tired, which is unusual for me at midnight, but I can’t go to bed.

I haven’t heard from Levi all day. I knew he was busy at work, so I didn’t try to text or call until after six, but he never responded.

And that’s not like him.

I didn’t want to seem like the crazy girlfriend, so I didn’t try again, but I’m worried now. And maybe a little crazy.

So, I try to call again, but it goes to voicemail.

I know he keeps the ringer on for work, so either something’s wrong, or he’s ghosting me. Both options give me anxiety.

I decide to throw caution to the wind and call Lia.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Starla. I know it’s super late, so I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” she assures me. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I haven’t heard back from Levi all day, and I’m kind of worried. Have you guys talked to him?”

“I haven’t, but let me ask Wyatt.” She doesn’t cover the phone when she turns her attention to her husband, who must be sitting close by. “Have you talked to Levi tonight? . . . When? . . . Is he okay?”

“What did he say?”

“He said he talked to him earlier this evening. Levi was at home.”

I stand and march to my handbag, grabbing it and my keys.

“What’s his address?”

She rattles it off. “Oh, you can park under his building in one of the guest slots.”

“Perfect, thanks.”

“No problem.”

She hangs up, and I hurry to my car, pull out of the driveway, and head toward town, following the instructions on the GPS on my phone.

I notice that the cop who’s been parked outside my place all day follows me, but I don’t care.

The least Levi could have done was text me back to tell me that he was okay and just needed some time alone. Hell, I understand needing some space. Needs space is my middle name.

But ignoring me? That’s not okay. And, yes, I see the irony here. If this is half as bad as he felt when I didn’t reply to him after our first night together, I feel even worse about it now. That was a bitchy thing to do, and I’ll regret it forever.

I find his address, and just like Lia said, I pull under the building and find an empty space marked guest. I hurry to the elevator and punch in his floor.

When the doors open, I hurry out and down the hallway to his door, pounding on it when I get there.

It takes about thirty seconds for him to answer. Maybe he was asleep? I don’t know, but when he pulls open the door, I scowl at what I see before me.

Levi’s hair is disheveled, his face is dark with stubble, and he’s only wearing boxers.

“If I interrupted you with someone—”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, taking my hand and pulling me inside. “No one is here, Star.”