Free Proof by Jordyn Redwood Page B

anything.”
    “They believe he copied your keys.”
    Lilly slid down in the bed and pulled the thin, drab sheet up over her mouth. She couldn’t keep the tears from flowing, the salt stung the open wounds around her injured eye. The irony of it all breeched her sanity.
    All her safety measures failed.
    Lilly cursed herself for not changing each lock on her door the day her keys were misplaced. Her martial arts training had proved ineffectual against the drug he’d injected. She’d never had a chance to reach her gun.
    Lilly allowed the memory of the attack to play in full detail.
    Dana had left. Lilly was at the sink, rinsing their drinking glasses. The warmth from the fire begged off the chill from a cool autumn breeze that drifted in through the small kitchen window. The quiet music masked any noise that might have alerted her to the presence of a stranger in her home.
    It was the smell that made her turn around, an odd mixture of sweat, grease, and antiseptic.
    A man, his height well over hers, was scant inches away. The tips of his shoes met her own, his face hidden behind a black ski mask. At first she paused, distracted, trying to discern why one of his eyes was blue and the other brown.
    “I’ve been waiting to meet you, Lilly,” the man said, his voice unnatural.
    She replayed the memory again to that point, to ensure her findings.
    There had been no sound of the door opening. She couldn’t remember feeling a draft that would have signaled her that he was sneaking in from the outside.
    She didn’t want to believe he’d hidden like a spider in her home, waiting for his prey to cross over the threshold of his trap.
    Lilly attempted to get in a protective stance when his right hand swung at her, arcing to punch her upper arm. Before she could deflect it, she felt the sting of a needle bury itself deep into her shoulder. Even in the next second as she knocked his arm away, the burn of the medicine swelled within her muscle.
    Bolting from the kitchen, she ran, aiming for the front door. Within a few steps, he grabbed her shirt from behind. Her strength waning, she allowed him to draw her body into his. She then pivoted and faced him, grabbing his shoulders and throwing him back-first into the glass table. Snatching hold of her arm, he pulled her with him, the breaking glass like exploding wind chimes. His shirt pulled up, exposing his chest, in the tumble.
    Before she succumbed to the medicine, she forced her mind to remember the odd tattoo of a creature with three heads; a lion, a goat, and a serpent breathing fire, joined into one hideous creature.
    “You should have changed your locks when you lost your keys, Lilly,” the stranger chided.
    With her remaining strength, she tried to keep herself from landing on top of him. His hold on her arm kept her fixed, and the last clear thing she remembered was flopping like an earth-bound fish into the strange tattoo as his free hand came up and cupped her head, stroking it like a concerned parent.
    What remained of the memory were sensations—mostly of pain, then of water, then of nothing.
    Until now.

Chapter 10
    “N ATHAN , I THINK it would be wise if you let me conduct this interview.” Brett crinkled his Styrofoam cup and banked an overhead shot into the nearest trashcan. It caught the edge of the plastic receptacle and fell to the floor.
    He counted the seconds it took for Nathan to walk over and retrieve it.
    Exactly five seconds—right on the mark.
    “Her name is Lilly.”
    “You’re not developing a thing for her, are you?” Brett watched his partner’s deep-set eyes for full disclosure.
    “No.”
    Brett smirked at his quick response. “All the more reason I should speak with her. I think you’re beginning to over-identify with these victims and their families.”
    “Let’s go over the situation. I don’t want to screw this up.”
    “I guess that means you’re still taking the lead.” Brett leaned back against the wall. “She’s had a busy