“Yeah, so?” Rafer prodded.
“Listen to me, dammit,” he growled. “They lived in separate areas, in separate homes, and Rafer’s parents were here at the ranch more often than not.”
“Yeah.” Rafe rubbed at the back of his neck as Logan leaned forward, watching Crowe silently.
“Before, there were odd accidents, nothing too serious, but enough to cause them to become concerned for their children and move into the one house that Logan’s parents owned—”
“But what they did was allow the killer to focus on one location, and on our families as a whole,” Rafer guessed.
“Exactly.” Crowe could see now exactly how they could further strain the enemy’s resources. Especially if the enemy was limited in manpower. And the Stalker would have to be limited in manpower. The more people were involved, the greater the chances of discovery.
“Logan.” He turned to his middle cousin. “Get your stuff together and move into the house on Rafferty Lane.”
He turned to Rafer. “You’ll stay here on the ranch while I make it appear I’ve moved into the cabin on Crowe Mountain.”
Logan snorted. “Like you haven’t been living there for years anyway whenever you’ve come back.”
Crowe smiled with slow, easy mockery.
“But they didn’t know when I was due to return,” he reminded them. “So, they never knew when I was home, allowing me to move about freely whenever I did leave the mountain, as long as I stayed in the shadows.”
“Because you weren’t where you were supposed to be,” Logan said thoughtfully.
Crowe inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“So, once again, we won’t be where they expect us to be,” he told them. “We’ve always stayed together whenever we’ve returned. This time, we separate. Let’s make it harder for him. We wire all three places with cameras and sound and see who comes visiting.”
“You scare me, Crowe,” Logan murmured.
“I’m sure I do,” Crowe grunted, catching the sarcasm in his cousin’s voice. “Now, why don’t you scare me and actually get your shit and get the hell out of here. We’ll start wiring your place tonight. Rafe and I’ll slip in after midnight and work till daylight.”
“Hey, don’t forget about that heated path along the base of the mountain behind the house,” Logan reminded him, the widening of his eyes indicating his sudden memory of the path.
Crowe realized even he had forgotten about the geothermals their fathers had found and piped into.
They had created a path a few degrees above body temperature, allowing them to slip in and out without being seen should anyone attempt to use surveillance equipment.
“Hell, I’d forgotten that myself,” Rafer admitted.
“I don’t even think Clyde knew about the path. Let’s make sure no one else finds out about it, either,” Crowe murmured, finally finding a chance to sip at the coffee Rafer had carried to the table.
Finally, something in their favor.
For twenty-two years he’d felt as though they were constantly two steps behind whoever the hell shadowed them and the families that disowned them.
“We’ll survive this,” Rafer said, his voice curiously hollow as he made the statement.
“Damned right we’ll survive it,” Crowe told him.
“While we’re surviving, let’s try to make sure no one else suffers.” Logan was the one to bring their deepest fears to the surface. “Because God help me, but I’m tired of watching innocent women die.”
He wasn’t by himself.
But what Crowe feared the most was that the Slasher would discover the one secret he’d fought so many years to hide.
The secret of the woman who held his heart.
The key to his destruction.
CHAPTER 1
Two years later
Sleep wasn’t happening.
Too many memories haunted her, the knowledge of too much blood and betrayal echoing through her soul.
Amelia had known her father was cruel. She’d known he was a bastard. He’d proved it over the years in so many ways.
In ways that would scar her soul forever. Yet there were days, and nights such as now, that she thanked God he’d never treated her as though he loved her, that he’d never fooled her into trusting him.
If she had trusted him—
A swift, hard strike of terror had her breath hitching at the implications of such a mistake. At what she could have lost, when she had already lost so much.
When she had lost—
“What happened to your room, Amelia? It used to have life in it.”
Amelia swung around, her heart in her throat, her breath suddenly trapped there, threatening to strangle her as she stared back at the man, standing so strong and sure as he slipped past the balcony door.