“How did you find me?”
“Micky.”
I nod. It hadn’t occurred to me not to send my uncle my address. Henry already knew where I was, and Andrew knew I was in New Orleans. I guess I’d assumed Uncle Micky wouldn’t share the specifics. It seemed out of character. “He told you?”
“I looked on his phone.”
I close my eyes and push my temper away. “Why?”
“You need to understand. If I thought you’d actually find Tess, I’d have obstructed you more. Let this go, Juliana. Let her go. She’s safer this way.” He stares at me as he speaks, and fear starts to fill me. Fear of Andrew. “Right now, she’s alive, but if you lead him to her—”
“You know her. Teresa. You know the woman who could help me catch the Creeper.”
Andrew nods.
“And the Creeper watches me, you know that more than because of the letter, don’t you?”
Andrew holds my gaze. “I tried to stop it.”
He steps toward me.
I back up. I can’t help it. The secret Andrew has been keeping, apparently, is that he knows more than he’s admitted about the monster who’s killing women and leaving their bodies for me to tend.
“I’m not him. I wouldn’t do those things, Jules. You know me. You may not love me, but you know me.”
“I thought I did.” I fold my arms over my chest. “You know Teresa.”
“It always feels weird to call her Teresa. She hates that name. She went by Tess when we met.”
He smiles in a way that’s more revealing even than his words. Whatever she was to him, it wasn’t simple friendship. There’s love in his eyes. It’s painfully obvious that Teresa matters to him enough that he’s known where she was and hidden it, hidden her, even as other women died. He did so even when he knew the killer was watching me. For now, that’s all my mind can process. The bigger thing—the fact that he knows more about the killer—is too much.
“You don’t understand, Jules. If I told you, if we went to Tess, he’d find her. He’s watching you—”
“Because of you.” I step backward again, moving closer to the building.
I scan the street, looking for the killer. I don’t know what he looks like. I’m not sure I’d even be able to tell if he were here, watching me. I clutch the keys in one hand and reach into my jacket pocket to grip my phone with the other. “He found me because he was watching you.”
Andrew sighs, but his gaze doesn’t falter. He doesn’t look away. “Yes.”
I don’t know whether to run or lock myself in the rental or call Henry. I don’t know what to think or do. I trust Andrew, or rather, I used to trust Andrew. Right now, I’m somewhere between furious and terrified.
“He thought I knew where Tess was,” Andrew adds, as if that explains anything.
I exhale, watching cars as they drive past us on Esplanade. Even if the Creeper isn’t on the street, he could be in any one of those cars. I’m assailed by memories of graves, of bodies, of cataloguing the injuries that were obviously pre-mortem.
I look away from traffic to fix Andrew in my gaze. “You knew where she was and did nothing.”
“I know,” Andrew says gently. “You have to understand, though. Tess can’t be found. She shouldn’t be. She’s lived here for years, and the best thing I could do was to hide her. I don’t go anywhere because I didn’t want him to think that was where she was. I haven’t visited her, but I know she’s not well.”
I can’t help but ask, “Physically?”
He shrugs. “She’s an addict, but she’s not sick in other ways. No cancer. Nothing like that.” He steps toward me and lowers his already quiet voice. “She survived some horrible things, Jules. She’s would not do well testifying or anything. She’s . . . just not well. I had to protect her.”
I push away the very real fact that he chose to protect Teresa at the risk of my safety. I don’t discount the things she undoubtedly suffered. I’ve seen the bodies of the women who didn’t escape. I don’t want Teresa to suffer more, but the police could’ve protected her. There are victim support programs. Hell, there’s Witness Protection. He had information to stop a killer, to save lives, to protect me too, and he chose to withhold it.
“Tell me why you know her. Tell me you’re not . . . tell me you’re not a killer, Andrew.”
“Jules . . .” He shakes his head. “Do you honestly think I could do those things? I’ve seen the pictures, too. Do you think I’m capable of that?”
“Yesterday? No. Today? I’m not sure.” I scan the street again. If the Creeper was watching him, watching me, he knows we’re here. I pull out my cell phone. “I need to call Henry.”
Andrew lurches at me and grabs my phone. “I’m sorry, but you can’t do that.”
I fight for it, grab his wrist and twist it away from him. The phone drops, and I dive toward it. Andrew shoves me aside with one hand and stomps on my phone, shattering the screen.
“I can take you to her, Jules. If that’s what you want, I’ll take you to see Tess.” Andrew stares down at me. “You can come with me, or you can walk away.”
“And you?”
“I’m going to her. I helped her disappear once, and I can do it again. If you want to talk to her before she goes, you can, but that’s it.” He holds a hand out to me.
“What about . . .” I can’t make myself finish that sentence though.
“Us?” Andrew laughs in a way that I’d rather have not heard. “You’re not the first woman who didn’t think I was good enough. Tess never loved me. She just needed me to think she did so she could use me.” He squats down in front of me. “I forgave her, and I forgive you. It’s okay, Jules. I enjoyed what we had, even though I knew I was never really the man you wanted. I do love you. I love her still, too.”
I can’t move as Andrew reaches out and cups my face in his hands. He leans in and kisses me, and for a moment, I don’t pull away. That passes quickly, and I crabwalk backward.
Andrew stands and holds out a hand again. “Come with me to meet her. You can ask your questions before I take her away.”
I stand, ignoring his outstretched hand, and brush myself off. “Henry could help you both into witness protection. You don’t have to—”
“Tess isn’t an innocent, Jules. They wouldn’t let her go free, not if she spoke to the police, and I’d rather she and I both die than see her become a prisoner again.” He smiles. “I know you. You follow the rules. You won’t be talking about helping her once you realize the things she’s done.”
He starts walking.
“Wait.”
Andrew looks back. “Come or stay. It’s your choice.”
I picture Henry’s face. He’d likely be furious if he knew what I’m about to do, but I don’t want to ignore the best clue we have. The woman who has the answers to help us find and stop the Carolina Creeper is in reach, and she’s about to disappear.
And Andrew? He knows far more than he’s admitted so far. He has information that he’s withheld. I’ll get it. Meet her. Suggest Witness Protection to her. It’s that or wait on Henry. My mind fills with the images of the dead women—and a small voice I don’t like to admit whispers that if I’d have been braver when I saw the signs that Darren was a threat to Sophie and Tommy, if anyone had been braver, my sister and nephew might be alive.