“Couldn’t you look it up yourself?”
“You get it first.”
“What do you want?”
“Anything on the Jeanne LaRoux homicide.”
Sighing, Effie set down her drink, her fingers flying over her keyboard. “Isn’t your husband investigating? Why don’t you ask him?”
“He’s not here. You are.”
“Fine.” Effie typed in some information, and a news clip from thelocal station showed on the screen. A woman reporter in her late twenties was standing near the cordoned-off area of Jeanne’s property and staring into the camera to report on “another local murder,” saying that police hadn’t discounted the possibility of a serial killer stalking the streets and the area around Savannah. Nikki noted that police were asking for the community’s help, that if anyone had seen anything suspicious, they should call the authorities.
And blah, blah, blah.
“You could have found this yourself,” Effie pointed out. “Oh, wait … looks like the story’s been picked up in Atlanta.” She paused, brought the information up on the screen. “They’re calling the killer the Savannah Slasher. That’s new.”
Nikki read the data over her shoulder, and Effie, after a few more quick searches, said, “That’s it. So far.” She picked up her drink again.
“Thanks.” Nikki headed outside, where the night was just starting to cool, a soft April breeze floating through the quiet streets. A few cars drove past the old brick warehouse where theSentinelwas located, headlights offering passing illumination, while crickets chirped from the steps and shrubbery.
Walking across the parking lot, she sensed, rather than saw, someone nearby.
And yet, at first glance, there was no one.
She glanced around, searching the area. Nothing.
Just your nerves, she told herself.That’s what you get for spending your days investigating murders and—
Was that a footstep?
She whirled.
Reached into her purse.
Scrabbled.
Her fingers located her keys.
But she saw no one.
The parking lot was empty.
Still …
Nerves strung tight, she kept walking, her gaze moving around her. The brick building where the newspaper office was located loomed upward, some windows lit and a streetlamp on the corner offered soft, ethereal light. A few cars drove past.
The city was quiet.
Nerve-rackingly so.
All in your head.
No one else around. And yet, she felt eyes upon her. Unseen eyes.
Hairs on the back of her arms lifted.
The back of her neck tingled.