Page 90 of The Rebel Billionaire

It must have been relatively safe. Lucas never would have let me leave the house if it weren't. We raced out the front door and across our driveways to find two uniformed officers standing in my yard and Detective Brennan on my porch putting handcuffs on theintruder.

Once I hit the bottom step and saw her face, Igasped.

"Marissa Archer?" I said indisbelief.

Her head swiveled to face me and her eyes lit with a fervor that had mesteppingback.

"Olivia. Olivia. You're dead," she screeched, calling me by my mother's name. "You were murdered. Murdered. No one believes it, no one listens. It wasn't Hugh, it was him. It was him. They knew and he killed them. He killed them all.Olivia."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my headspinning.

Marissa Archer was the last person I would have suspected of stalking me. I barely knew her. We were social acquaintances at best. She'd been friends with my parents when they were younger but they hadn't been especially close. I'd remember that. She was little more than astranger.

Detective Brennan leaned down to pick something up from the porch while Marissa Archer continued to wail my mother's name. He held up a squareenvelope.

I'd seen something like that before and I knew what he'd find when it opened it. I was wrong, but notbymuch.

I'd expected another crime scene photograph of my aunt and uncle's death like those that Jacob and Vance hadreceived.

Almost.

This one was of my parents. I didn't need to see it to know. The way Detective Brennan looked from me to the photo and back told meeverything.

"It's my parents, isn't it?" I asked. Henodded.

Marissa was still calling out my mother's name, desperate to make herselfunderstood.

Ignoring everyone else, I stepped closer to Marissa and said, "Who was it, Marissa? Who killed them? Doyouknow?"

Nodding her head so hard I thought she'd knock herself off-balance, she said, "I know it all. I know all the secrets, I knoweverything."

"Who was it?" I demanded, my heart surging in my chest. Never in my life had I ever needed to know anything as much as I needed toknowthis.

Could Marissa Archer really know who killed my parents? It seemedimpossible.

Her eyes burning with a desperate fervor, she leaned toward me and whispered, "He knows someone knows, but he doesn't know who. Left me for her. That stupid slut. He killed them. Killed them all. And I'm the only one who knows. The pictures make him crazy. He'sscarednow."

"Charlie, step back," Lucas said, trying to drag me away from the insane woman on myporch.

I yanked myarmfree.

"No, Lucas, I wanttoknow."

He grabbed my arm again and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Princess, step back. She's nuts. She doesn't have anything totellyou."

"She does, Lucas," I hissed back. "She knowssomething."

He shook his head. Proving him right, Marissa began to sway back and forth, singing to herself, "All over. All over now. He can't find me, he can'tfindme."

"Who?" I shouted, trying to break through her descent into madness. "Who killed them? Who can'tfindyou?"

Her head shot up and her bright eyes met mine. The singing stopped. In a clear, level, almost sane voice, she said, "Tell them. Tell them he's still out there. And he's not done.Notyet."

Her head dropped, her eyes closed, and she fellsilent.

What the fuck? What did that mean? Okay, it was obvious what that meant. It was either a warning or athreat.

He's still out there. And he'snotdone.