Chapter 2

“There’s flowers everywhere,” Ron said.

Snapdragons littered the floor and sat in several vases around the room. Chris drew in a breath and held it. Whatever waited in there to be found wasn’t going to be good.

He felt a quick rush of fear as Dylan turned and pointed the camera at words painted in red on the wall.

What You Love the Most Will Suffer the Greatest

A knife stuck out of the wall below the threat. The camera moved in closer and focused on the knife and a picture it pinned onto the wall. Chris caught his breath as he recognized the picture of him and Ron, with Ron kissing his cheek. The knife was sticking out of Chris’s face.

The camera went dark as Dylan put his hand over it. “You don’t need to see this.”

“I saw it.”

“Dylan, over here!” Ron yelled.

Dylan rushed over to Ron, who was knelt beside a woman’s body. He turned her onto her back, her limp body rolling like a rag doll.

“Does she have a pulse?” Dylan asked.

“No,” Ron said with an angry tone. He pulled a phone from the back pocket of his jeans, then dialed 911. With a huff, he stood and then walked away from the body as he began talking to a dispatcher.

“I’m coming in,” Chris said.

“Stay there,” Dylan said.

“I’m not staying out here alone.”

Chris started the ignition and looked up as the headlights filled the alley. A man in all black wearing a bald, old man mask with a beak-like nose stood at the bumper, then rushed to the driver’s side with a crowbar raised.

“Guys!” Chris yelled as the window shattered, sending glass flying in at him.

The attacker reached in and grabbed the back of Chris’s head, then slammed him into the steering wheel. Chris tried to shove the guy away, but his attacker reached in, unlocked the door, and then opened it. He grabbed Chris by the shirt, pulled him from his seat, and then slammed him against the side of the Tahoe, wrapping his hand around Chris’s neck and resting the crowbar against his head. “You’re going to suffer,” the attacker said in a demonic growl.

The man’s hold was strong, but Chris didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the crowbar and forced the man’s arm down and delivered a right hook to the attacker’s chin. He was released as the man turned with the blow. Chris delivered a punch to the man’s middle, but then the man hit him across the chin.

The man grabbed Chris by his hair and pulled him away from the Tahoe as a dark SUV drove into the alley as if summoned. Chris punched twice at the man’s side, then the man slammed him against the Tahoe. Despite his pain, he swung his fist into the man’s middle, then shoved the man away.

“CHRIS!” Dylan yelled as he ran down the alley toward them.

Chris’s attacker swung the crowbar. It was a weak blow, but it still caught him on the arm and knocked him back, then his attacker turned and ran toward the SUV.

Chris chased after him with Dylan and Ron behind him, but the attacker got into the passenger’s side of the early model Ford Explorer that sped away before the door shut. All Chris could see were the taillights, not the plates.

Sirens filled the night as Chris leaned against the wall and let out a frustrated laugh. Ron was on the phone reporting the description of the Explorer, but Chris had little faith the night would end with an arrest.

“Are you okay?” Dylan asked.

Chris reached up to feel his lip, then checked his hand for blood, but it was clear. “I’m okay.”

Dylan’s face lit with a smile. “Told ya you should’ve been a boxer.”

He waved off his brother’s comment as they walked back toward the Tahoe. Across the street, a police car parked by Ron’s truck. With Dylan’s attention on the increasing cop activity, Chris stole a glance at Ron. Ron’s eyes were full of concern as they held each other’s gaze for a moment, but then Ron looked down, like the contact had made him uncomfortable.

“It wasa trap, but not to get us,” Ron said as he met Chris’s eyes again. “It was to get Snapdragon.” 2

Chris leaned against the back of the Tahoe while Dylan and Ron stood to his right. They remained in the alley as the police arrived in full force and the news crews set up along the perimeter of the crime scene. Even in this Midwestern city, it wasn’t the first time a serial killer had terrorized Spring Harbor. No doubt, that case was tumbling around Dylan’s mind, as well. Only two years before, Dylan and Ron had been responsible for the capture of The Gentleman Killer, John Darton, who had left flowers with the victims, like these two recent murders.