Page 42 of Little Twisted Things

“Stop it.” I playfully slapped his chest. “We can’t, and you know it. You have your students, and I have the gallery.”

“Dahlia, it’s a kill fest here.”

“Alex, we already talked about this.” I climbed off the bed and slipped on my robe.

I went downstairs for a glass of wine. Alex followed me. “I’m worried, Dahlia. And I shouldn’t have to be. I don’t understand why the police haven’t caught this guy yet. Bodies are piling up all over Key West.”

“They’re doing everything they can,” I said.

“No. No, they’re not.” He shook his head. “From what I’ve read, they have zero leads on who’s doing this. This Last Chapter Killer has been doing this for years and still hasn’t been caught.”

“How do you know he’s been doing it for years?” I asked.

“I read about it in an article. The FBI can’t catch a break when it comes to this guy.”

“Alex, just stop!” I shouted. “I’m not leaving Key West.”

“I have no idea why you’re yelling at me, Dahlia. I don’t like it. I’m going home. Call me when you’ve cooled off.” He went upstairs to get dressed.

I followed him and stepped into the room.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked.

“I don’t like being shouted at. You have no reason to yell at me. I’m only looking out for your safety.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me, Alex. I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah. Apparently, you can.” He grabbed his wallet from the dresser and shoved it into his back pocket. “Like I said. I’m leaving. Call me when you cool down.”

I stood there with my arms folded as he left the bedroom. What the hell was his problem? The one thing I couldn’t stand was someone’s whining. And that was exactly what Alex was doing. Whining about leaving Key West because of a serial killer. If he only knew.

The following morning, I stepped inside the gallery and saw Tess talking to a man who stood about six feet two with dark brown wavy hair, dressed in jeans and a polo.

“Dahlia, this is Detective Luke Larson. He has some questions.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“It’s nice to meet you, Detective Larson.” I lightly shook his hand.

“I’m looking for a woman. She’s approximately five feet seven with auburn hair cut into a bob-style and green eyes. Her name is Scarlett Tisdale. Perhaps she’s been in your gallery?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I can’t recall anyone coming in here that fits that description,” I said.

“What’s this about, Detective Larson?” Tess asked.

“We’re just following up on a lead.” He reached into his pocket and handed Tess his card.

“If she happens to come in here, call me,” he said.

“We definitely will,” Tess said.

After he left the gallery, Tess gripped my arm.

“Do you think The Last Chapter Killer is a woman?”

“Female serial killers are rare. Maybe Detective Larson is working on a different case.”

“Maybe,” she sighed. “Anyway, when are you inviting me over to meet Alex?”