Matthew nods his head. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
I sit there stunned, rooted to my seat, as Jake walks over to me. He places both hands on my arms and kisses my forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay? Ana?”
I shake myself out of it and nod. “Yes, yes of course. You go. I’ll be fine here with Matthew. I’ll help him unpack and get him something to eat.”
He squeezes my arms and grabs his car keys from the bowl. I hear the distinct sound of the alarm, so I know it’s armed. The thought of another girl murdered fills me with horror. What else do we have to endure until we catch this son of a bitch?
Matthew offers me a hug and tries to tell me everything will be okay.
Somehow, though, I have a feeling that it won’t be.
18
The afternoon goes by quickly—which is kind of welcome. I keep myself busy by making Matthew a sandwich and helping him to put all his stuff away from his trip. I also load up the washing machine and get some much-needed ironing done. It’s all done swiftly as Matthew’s anxious to get a shower, get on with any last-minute homework, and prep for school the next day.
It’s seven by the time I’m sitting down with my feet up, watching Marley and Me. I’m so busy crying my eyes out at the part where Jennifer Aniston’s character loses the baby that I almost don’t hear Jake’s car pulling into the garage.
I dart up, running to the toilet to grab some tissues and dry my eyes. I don’t like people to see me cry over movies. In a flash, I run to the kitchen and start putting on some spaghetti, so I can make us a quick bolognese. As I’m heating the water up, Jake walks in. When I turn, I see how crushed he looks. Running into his arms, I breathe him in. He squeezes me to him, inhaling the scent of my hair. He’s only been away a few hours, so it’s frightening just how much I had missed him. My stomach curls when I remember all too quickly why he had been gone.
“Tell me. Please. I can handle it—honestly.” He sighs, letting me go, so I sit on the bar stool and wait for him to start.
“I won’t lie to you. It wasn’t pleasant. The scene I found when I got there was horrific. She wasn’t strangled this time; she was stabbed multiple times in a frenzied attack. She had been left there since early Saturday. They say time of death was between one and five in the morning.”
This is getting worse. Much worse. “How do they know it is our killer then?” I ask.
He looks pained. “She fits the description. Blonde hair, blue eyes, in her twenties. But that wasn’t the most damning part. There was another note. We know it’s him.”
I brace myself for what he’s about to say next. “What did it say?”
He sighs. “It was only one word, but it was the same paper, same writing. They’re going to examine it for sure, but we’re fairly certain it is the same guy.”
I wait, but nothing’s said. “Jake, please. What did it say?” I grab his hand to try and pull him out of it.
“Bitch. It said bitch.”
I look up, startled, not knowing what all of it means. Does he mean that I am a bitch, or that the poor girl he stabbed to death was a bitch? One thing is certain: he’s angry. Why? What’s changed to make him so pissed?
“Was that agent there?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes, along with Tom and Michael.”
“What were his thoughts?”
“He asked how you were doing. Then he warned me how grim the scene was. Tom and Michael both looked sick. That was the first time I’ve ever seen that smug look off of Tom’s face, to be honest. The bottom line is he’s pissed, so something has changed. We’re all concerned it has made him more dangerous. He’s changed his M.O., and it has made everyone nervous. We have to bring in more men on this to nail him ASAP. He has to be stopped.”
I nod, cupping my hand on his face and kissing him gently. “He’ll be caught soon. I know he will.”
Trying not to picture the awful scene in my head myself, I get up to grab some spaghetti from the pantry and start loading some in the pan. I take some meatballs from the fridge and start lightly frying them up. I’m in the middle of stirring the meatballs, when I feel a set of arms wrap around me from the back. Jake kisses my neck, and I make a light humming sound in my throat. We stay like that for a while, but then Matthew comes breezing through the door. Matthew clears his throat, making Jake jump out of his skin. He moves quickly and guiltily away from me. I start laughing, setting Matthew off.
“Wow, Dad, what a way to look guilty. Did I interrupt something?”
He winks at me, making me blush. “Don’t tease your father. He feels a little delicate about all this.” We both laugh again while Jake just stands there, looking shell-shocked.
“Well, I’m glad you both find me so amusing. This is all new to me. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act.”
Matthew sits himself down on the stool. “Dad, I’ve told you, I’m fine. It’s okay. Honestly. Take a chill pill.”
“Take a what?” The look on Jake’s face is priceless. I shake my head with a smile, all the bad forgotten. I can’t let this arsehole rule my head.
Matthew and I laugh again, and eventually Jake relaxes, letting out a little chuckle himself.
I grab the sauce for the meatballs and get some parmesan cheese out of the fridge. “Matthew, take a seat, mate. Dinner’s nearly ready.”
He salutes me, taking a seat. “Alright, Governor.” I give him a stern look for his mickey taking, but he just giggles at me.
After a few minutes of stirring everything, I gather three big bowls and start dealing out the portions. Jake grabs some cutlery as we sit down to eat.
They both make appreciative noises. “This is good, Ana. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Matthew smiles, and I say my thanks. Jake touches my hand and smiles tenderly at me. If Matthew wasn’t here, I would have dribbled some of this sauce on my chest and requested that he lick it all off.
My, my. I really do have it bad.
“You know, Clive really has the hots for you. He wouldn’t stop going on about you and how much he wishes you were his stepsister and what a lucky … um … person I am.” He glances at his dad, obviously trying to choose his words carefully in an attempt to avoid aggravating him. “Boy, is he is going to be angry when I tell him what’s been going on while we were away.”
Jake places his fork down. “I think it would be best if you didn’t tell anyone anything until we’ve caught this killer.”
Matthew sucks on a piece of spaghetti. “So what happened earlier? Has there been another murder?”
Jake nods his head. “Yes, another girl in Reston. Forensics is sweeping the scene right now, so we’ll probably know more in the morning.” Jake isn’t going to say anymore, and Matthew doesn’t push. He knows he won’t get more info out of him other than what he has already divulged.
Rising up from his seat, Jake moves to the cabinet and grabs two glasses. I watch in appreciation at his movements towards the fridge, the way he leans in to grab a bottle before pouring out some wine into the glass. He places it on the table for me before grabbing a drink for Matthew. It’s fascinating to watch the way he walks and the way his hips sway slightly—those same hips which know all too well how to drive me crazy.