Page 21 of Serial Burn

It’s fine. Kind of what I expected. Any other unsolved cases that are similar?

None. And it’s a pretty bold move to attack someone in a public bathroom. Anyone could have walked in.

Agreed.

Are you free for dinner?

She hesitated. Was she? Technically. She switched to voice texting.

I am. After I finish here.

Would you be interested in getting some Mexican? You didn’t eat much lunch. If you’re tired, I understand. I can pick it up and bring it to your place.

This conversation would have been much easier over the phone. Her head hurt and she was definitely tired. Would be even more tired later.

But...

Can you be at my place around five?

Was it encouraging him when she didn’t want to—okay,couldn’t—take things any further than friendship? Was she making a mistake? Or seriously overthinking the whole situation?

Sure can. See you then. Text me what you like.

Jesslyn did so, then shifted her attention to the emergency exits, counting them and checking the signage as well as making sure the routes were free of obstructions. Her phone buzzed and she ignored it. If she spent any more time on her phone, she’d never get done. She moved to the next part of the new wing, hurrying down the long hallway.

A footfall from behind her sent her pulse skittering and she spun. Nothing. “Mr. McClure?”

No answer. So, it wasn’t him.

But she’d definitely heard a footstep.

Hadn’t she?

Her breath caught and goose bumps pebbled her arms and scalp. She’d never been afraid of being alone in a building she was inspecting.

Until now.

She slipped into a room off the hallway and listened. Nothing. Realizing she was near the nursery, she continued through to the connecting room and found herself in the hallway parallel to the one she just left. Keeping one ear tuned to the area behind her, she continued her inspection with her weapon freed from the restraint and ready for her to grab at a moment’s notice.

In the nursery, she found an area of wiring that needed some fine tuning, but other than that, the building was in really great shape. She finished her report and emailed it to Mr. McClure. Her phone continued to buzz. She glanced at the screen. Twelve texts. A quick scan said there was no emergency, just her friends checking on her. Sweet, but they could wait.

She then checked the parking lot. When she didn’t see anyone or anything other than a sky darkened and heavy with thick gray clouds, she set the alarm and stepped outside. The first drop landed on her cheek. She climbed behind the wheel, locked the doors, then checked her phone again.

Fourteen texts.

She sent a text to the group loop everyone was on.

I’m fine, guys. Thank you. I’ll let you know if I need anything. See you all later.

The sky chose that moment to open up, and the rain came down in sheets.

She turned the key and the engine clicked, then went silent. She tried again with the same result.

Jesslyn sat there for a moment, thinking. Hers was the only car in the parking lot. The pastor was gone.

But someone had been in there with her. If it wasn’t the pastor, who had it been? And where were they now? Her hand went to her weapon on her side, taking comfort in its presence.

She had a choice. Get out and try to see what was wrong with her vehicle in the downpour—she glanced in the back seat ... no umbrella—or call someone to come get her.

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