My phone lit up yet again, and I finally gave in, checking the screen. I had ten unread messages from an unknown phone number. I opened it and immediately dropped the phone. The screen landed with a smack on the tile floor, and I prayed it didn’t crack.

Stone was up and across the kitchen before I could pick it up. He bent down to grab it, looking at the still-open screen. His brows furrowed, and eyes narrowed on the photo I knew he saw. There, on my phone, was a picture of the most recent victim of the Coastal Killer.

It was a dark photo, taken before the sun rose. I could just make out the shape of the body on the ground.

I ran to the trash can and emptied the contents of my stomach.

Stone was immediately behind me, rubbing my back.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“I threw up all over my partner the first time I saw a body in the field,” he admitted.

I straightened and gave him a weak smile, but it didn’t last. The other messages remained unread; I hadn’t seen them before the photo that first popped up.

“What else does it say?” I asked.

“I did this for you,” Stone read aloud.

“What?” I asked. “They killed them because of me?”

I knew this was coming. The killer had warned me to stop, but I didn’t listen. Neither of us did. Instead, we kept pushing on, leaving no stone unturned.

“This isn’t your fault. Stop thinking that,” Stone scolded. “They would have become emboldened eventually. If not now, maybe two years from now. There is no way to know for sure. At least now, we have more evidence to follow and can put a stop to all of this.”

“I should’ve listened. That woman is dead because of me,” I said, my stomach still turning.

“No, that woman is dead because of a serial killer,” Stone said firmly.

I grabbed a cup from the cupboard and filled it with water at the sink. My head hurt and my throat burned. The water was refreshing but not enough to fix it all.

“Do you still want to go back?” Stone asked.

“I have to,” I answered. “Let’s go.”

18. Stone

18

STONE

I should’ve known I wouldn’t be so lucky to find myself alone with Len. Instead, Mal bounced next to her friend, trailing along with us. We’d walked halfway to the pub before bumping into her.

The streets were packed with tourists, and we pushed through the crowds on the sidewalk. There were too many people surrounding us for comfort, but there was not much I could do to change it.

The texts she received told me the unsub was becoming bolder. They were fixated on her, as their victim who got away, and that fact alone had me on edge. I knew how dangerous an obsession like that could become.