Seconds to Live(83)

“No it won’t.” Stella caught her sister’s eye in the mirror, hating the doubt and sadness she saw there. “Addicts don’t just hurt themselves.”

Morgan’s smile was sad but she swallowed. “Now that I’ve played Debbie Downer, let’s go see your hottie.”

Stella stopped in her bedroom and put on a thin blazer to conceal her weapon.

Morgan lifted the hem. “Your gun is wearing a hole in the fabric. My seamstress can reinforce the inside panel of your blazers so that won’t happen.”

Leave it to Morgan to think of her clothing.

They walked down the hall to the family room. They could see Mac and Grandpa cleaning guns on the patio table.

“Holy hell. He looks even better up close.” Morgan sucked in a breath and leaned close to Stella. “I assume that is what kept you out all night.”

“Yes.”

“What’s your relationship with the hunk?”

“I don’t know,” Stella said.

“Well if you don’t want him . . .” Despite her teasing, the interest in Morgan’s eyes was mild. She wasn’t even ready for a job yet, let alone a man.

“Dibs.” Stella played along. Her sister wasn’t anywhere near ready to date, but humor was a big step forward. When she’d first moved back home, she’d spent too many nights sitting on the deck alone in the dark, crying.

“That’s what I thought.” Morgan steered Stella out onto the deck. Then her sister went down the steps to the yard to hug her girls.

At the table, Mac was reassembling her AR-15 with practiced movements.

“You should see how fast he fieldstrips a weapon.” Grandpa tossed the gun oil into the cleaning kit. “Where did you learn how to do that?”

Mac wiped the exterior of the gun with a clean rag. “My father was an army colonel. Other families had family game night. We fieldstripped weapons.” He handed her the rifle. “Ready?”

“Yes, thank you.” Stella took it. “Do you want me to clean your wound? Your shirt was soaked.”

“It’s fine,” Mac said. “What does the rest of your day look like?”

“I need to stop at Gianna’s on the way to the station.” Stella picked up her clean Glock from the table and put it in her holster. “I have to call the ME.” She took out her phone and called. Frank wasn’t available. Instead of leaving a message, Stella chose to be connected with his secretary, who told her that Dena’s autopsy was finished. She ended the call. “I have to go to the medical examiner’s office.”

“Do you want me to find Gianna?” Mac offered.

“Would you?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want to borrow my car?” Stella asked.

“No. I don’t want it recognized. I can take my bike.”

“What if it rains again?”

“I’ll survive.” Mac was definitely a survivor.

“He can borrow my car.” Grandpa offered Mac a set of keys. “You might not mind a motorcycle in the rain, but that sick girl would.”

Mac took the keys. “Thank you.”

Morgan came back up the steps. “Stella, is this yours?”

Stella’s gaze dropped to her sister’s hands. The pale blue scarf sent fear rippling cold across her skin. “Where did you get that?”

He knew where she lived. He’d been to her home.

Near her family.

Morgan held it out. “The girls found it outside tied to a tree.”

“What’s wrong?” Grandpa stepped forward, his eyes sharpening.

Stella lowered her voice. “We’ve held back this fact from the media, but both dead women wore pale blue scarves.”

“No.” Morgan’s gaze darted between the scarf and her girls.

“I’m getting my gun,” Grandpa said.

Panic bloomed hot in Stella’s chest as she took the scarf and held it by the corner. She reached for her phone to call the chief and Brody. “It looks like you’re going to get that surveillance camera.”



Fighting the urge to stay and protect her family, Stella drove to the ME’s office. She’d left forensics at her house, but they wouldn’t be there long. The scarf had been left outside so it was unlikely that fingerprints, tracks, or trace evidence had survived the storm. The chief had sent a patrol car to sit in the driveway. Still, Stella didn’t want to leave, but she knew the only way to neutralize the threat was to find the killer.

She wavered between terror and fury. How dare this creep violate her home, threaten her family. She wasn’t going to rest until she’d stopped him.

She went inside the ME’s office. At the secretary’s direction, she headed for the locker room. She checked her phone for messages even though she knew it was too soon for Mac to have found Gianna. Shoving her purse into a locker, she donned a protective gown, booties, and face shield and pushed through the doors into the autopsy suite.