Tommaso suddenly stopped tickling her and pressed his lips to hers. “You intoxicate me, Inca Sardee … I’m completely under your control.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair. God, he was gorgeous …”Take me back to bed,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose to his. “Take me to bed and fuck me into next Tuesday …”
Olly foughthis way over to the Sakura, not expecting it to be open, but inside he found Scarlett, alone. “Why are you open?”
She grinned at him. “If you expected me to be closed, why did you come?”
Olly shrugged. “You got me.”
“Well,” Scarlett turned to get him his usual Americano, “you’re officially my only customer.”
Olly looked around. “No Inca?”
Scarlett grinned. “Nope. She drove up to the Winter place to return something to Tommaso Winter. She called me a little while ago. She got snowed in up there and is staying until it’s safe to drive back.”
Olly nodded. “Okay, then.”
“Jealous?”
Goddammit, Scarlett never let up. Olly tried not to grimace.
“Not at all. If you hadn’t noticed, I too have moved on.”
“Snippy.”
Olly gave up and grinned. ’You are a pain in the ass.”
“That’s me.” Scarlett studied him. “Seriously, though. She’s fine; so what’s your thing with the Winters?”
“Who says I got a thing?”
“I know you,” Scarlett said. “You’re not sure about them.”
Olly sighed. “It’s not really the Winters bothering me. It’s the murders. Scarlett, in my ten years of being a cop, I’ve never seen anything so depraved, so brutal. I can’t shake the image of those girls … and the fact that they’re Asian-American. You can see why I’m a little antsy about Inca’s safety.”
“She’s a big girl,” Scarlett said gently. “And she can look after herself.”
“It’s my job to make sure you’re all safe.”
Scarlett shrugged. “Fair enough. Just don’t get too controlling. You—”
“Don’t have that right anymore. Gotcha. Look, Scarlett, why don’t I walk you home. No-one’s going to come in today.”
Scarlett shook her head. “I’m good. I have stuff to catch up on, stock-checking, stuff like that. Thanks, though.”
Later that night, Olly shouldered his way into his apartment and flicked on the lights. He snagged a bottle of water from his refrigerator and opened the door onto the small balcony. The snow had finally stopped and now the night was calm, but still bitterly cold. The apartment overlooked the harbor and the ferry landing and he saw now that the last ferry of the day was waiting. He had thought the weather would stop the ferry service to the city, but no, he saw the lights of the ferry bobbing in the water.
He was surprised to see a familiar figure striding along the jetty. One of the Winter twins— he couldn’t tell which one—jogged up the gangway and disappeared into the ferry.
Where the hell are you going at this time of night?
Olly frowned and glanced at his watch. A quarter of twelve. Olly pondered for a moment and shrugged. No business of his what they got up to after hours. He drained the water bottle and headed inside. He showered and brushed his teeth and collapsed gratefully onto the bed.
In the morning, he woke to the news that another woman had been murdered in the city. As he watched the news briefing, a shock drilled through him as they showed a photograph of the dead woman. She looked so much like Inca that it took his breath away. The victim was older than the others, an Indian-American woman in her early fifties who had been released from a mental health facility earlier that day. She had been stabbed to death like the others, but this time, a message was carved into her skin.
Police are not releasing the details of the message but say it could help them in the search for this vicious and merciless killer.
Olly felt sick, but not as sick as an hour later when Knox called him and in a flat voice told him that another girl had been found dead. He drove out to the site and saw the horrific scene. The body was frozen; the girl’s terror forever etched on her face; her clothes pulled up to reveal just what her killer had done to her as well as the carved message on her skin.