Allison Brennan - The Kill

He crossed the street and approached the house. He hadn’t broken in when he’d first staked out the place yesterday morning because of the alarm system, but this guy entered and so must know the code.

Would he have locked the door? Brian hoped not. He didn’t want to kill the guy, but he’d do what he had to do.

Cautiously, he tried the front door. Unlocked. He glanced from left to right to make sure no one was watching him. The houses were set far apart, and with the park directly across the street, Brian felt safe enough to enter.

He listened in the doorway. His heart skipped a beat at the sound of rustling in the kitchen down the hall.

Directly in front of him was a staircase. The bedrooms would most likely be upstairs, but he’d inspect the entire house once the guy in the kitchen left. Find the best place to hide. Where she would least expect him.

Walking as silently as possible up the staircase, Brian Hall finished forming his plan.

He’d wait until Olivia St. Martin came home.

Then he’d kill her.

Zack stayed the night, and early Monday morning he joined Olivia for a light breakfast with Quinn and Miranda Peterson.

“I’ll take you to the airport,” Zack said.

“I can’t let you do that,” Quinn said.

“Excuse me?” Zack glared at him. What was Quinn’s problem?

“She’s under federal protection; I’m flying out with her.”

Zack looked from Quinn to Olivia and said slowly, “What’s going on?”

“Oh,” Quinn said. “Miranda, I think we should step out of the room.”

“What’s going on?” Zack repeated as the Petersons left.

“I didn’t think to tell you-I’m sorry. It’s Hall.”

“Hall?”

“The police believe he killed two men involved with his prosecution in California. They think he’s coming after me.”

“Shit, Olivia!” He slammed his fist down. “You’ve been threatened and you didn’t tell me?”

“This all just happened. We don’t know where he is-he could have fled the country. His car was found at the San Francisco airport. It’s just-the FBI profiler believes he is seeking vengeance for being incarcerated. Hamilton, Gary Porter, now me. Federal protection is just a precaution. Hall has hardly any money, he has a record, and his photograph and description has been disseminated to all law enforcement agencies. It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.”

“Before or after he tries to kill you?”

Zack yanked her from her chair. She was startled, but he didn’t care. “In the last seventy-two hours, you almost fell to your death in the Cascades, you were held hostage by a serial killer, and now a suspected murderer might be after you for revenge? And you think I’m letting you out of my sight for one minute?”

“I-”

He kissed her. Full on, open mouth. He pulled back, his heart racing.

“I don’t care what Quinn Peterson ends up doing, but where you go, I go, federal protection or not.”

By the time they reached Virginia, it was after six in the evening. Agent Tim Daly greeted them at the airport and took over from Quinn; Zack seemed to take the situation in stride. Daly drove them to Olivia’s small but elegant two-story house in Fairfax.

Olivia was embarrassed showing Zack her home. While the house was stylish, and the furniture expensive, it was empty. Barren. It wasn’t a home -it had no living plants, no photographs, nothing that said a content, fulfilled human being lived there. Even her bookshelves were tidy with a few, mostly decorative, books. The manuals she used for work were in her office. Model homes in new housing developments had more personality than Olivia’s, though she’d lived here for three years.

Agent Daly walked through the house. “Okay, the house is secure,” he said as he came down the stairs. “Director Stockton said to take it easy today, but plan on being at the lab tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred for debriefing.”

“Director Stockton?” Zack questioned.

“He’s in charge of the FBI laboratory,” Olivia explained, though she felt uncomfortable bringing it up with Zack. They hadn’t really talked about what she did for the FBI.

“Coffee, Tim?” she asked.

“That would be great, Dr. St. Martin.”

“It’ll just take a couple of minutes.”

“Don’t rush,” he said, and sat down.

She walked down the short hall to the kitchen and started coffee. Then she noticed the note on the refrigerator.

She frowned, until she recognized the small, perfect block letters on the front. Greg .

She opened the note and read it.

“What’s that?” Zack asked.

“A note from Greg.”

“Your ex-husband Greg?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “He brought over some groceries yesterday when Rick told him I was coming back.”

“He has a key to your house?”

Olivia looked at Zack. The tone of his voice was odd-but his face was blank.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“This is the same Greg who ran DNA tests off-hours and who knew what you were doing from the beginning?”

“I explained that,” she said slowly. She’d thought they’d gotten beyond her lie.

Suddenly, she felt extremely weary and sank down into a chair, her head in her hands. “I can’t live like this.”

“Like what?”

“With you doubting and questioning me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Weren’t you?” She looked at Zack. “Why does it bother you that Greg knew what I was doing in Seattle?”

Zack shuffled his feet and looked sheepish. “Liv, if you think I don’t trust you, you’re wrong.”

“Then what?”

He didn’t say anything. Olivia replayed his comments in her mind. “Is it because Greg has a key to my house?”

Zack sighed. “I didn’t realize you were that close to your ex-husband.”

She almost laughed, but Zack looked so uncomfortable she didn’t have the heart. She stood up and kissed him on the cheek. “Zack, Greg and I are friends. We’re always going to be friends. But I love you .”

Zack pulled her close, kissed her, held her. “A lot of marriages don’t end in friendship. I haven’t talked to my ex-wife in years-she’s living in Los Angeles, last I heard. On her third husband.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. It was a mistake. We both knew it before our first anniversary.” He looked at her. “What happened with your marriage?”

“We wanted different things.”

“Do you still love him?”

Tension radiated from Zack’s body. This was important to him, Olivia realized.

“Not like I love you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Don’t be jealous, Zack. Greg and I were friends before we got married, and we’re still friends. I love him in the sense that he’s been a reliable part of my life for years. Plus, we have a lot in common.

“But,” she continued, “I mistook friendship and mutual respect for love. In fact, I don’t think I was truly capable of loving anyone then. I didn’t want anyone in my life, but I felt comfortable with Greg and I thought that was reason enough to marry him. It wasn’t.”

“I didn’t mean to sound jealous, Liv. There’s just so much I still need to learn about you.” He kissed her. “But I’m looking forward to it.”

A sound from the doorway made Olivia jump.

Tim Daly cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry, Dr. St. Martin. I was just going to help myself to the coffee.”

Olivia blushed and waved him away. “I’ll get it.”

While she poured coffee for the three of them, Zack commented, “Nice house.”

“Now that I look at it, it needs some sprucing up,” she said.

“You don’t spend much time here,” Zack said.