Page 30 of In the Dead of Night

The name made her think of the film. “Do you think the person who was in the house tonight was looking for that tape?”

“It’s possible. Likely, even.” His brows drew together. “I’m trying to figure out how all of this ties together. The anonymous phone calls. A missing manuscript that may or may not exist. The intruder who stole the notes from you. And now the film.”

Sara considered his words, a chill rushing over her. “A book,” she said abruptly.

“What book?”

“What if your father was working on a book? Another true-crime novel? What if those notes were his?”

Nick nodded. “That fits. But it doesn’t explain the tape.”

“Maybe someone involved with the making of that tape had an attack of conscience and sent it to him to expose whomever was responsible. Or maybe they sent it to him to prove this snuff thing was really happening. Maybe your father was investigating.” Energized by the emergence of a theory, albeit a dark one, Sara began to pace. “It fits.”

“It doesn’t explain why your parents were killed.”

“Maybe they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Why contact you?”

“Maybe this mystery person wants the whole thing exposed.”

“Or maybe it’s like I said earlier and they want the last loose end tied up once and for all.”

Sara jumped with a loud crash of thunder. Embarrassed, she forced a laugh, but it was a tight, uncomfortable sound. “You really know how to make a girl feel safe.”

“False sense of security gets people killed.”

Because the words frightened her more than she wanted him to see, Sara turned away and pretended to study the photos, trying to get her heart rate down.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he said after a moment.

“You’re doing a good job of it.” Gathering herself, she turned to face him. “But in case you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s not going to stop me.”

He didn’t look happy about it. Too bad, Sara thought. She liked Nick. As a person. A man. She liked the memory of him. But she didn’t need a man telling her what to do. Even if he thought it was for her own good.

Sara was acutely aware of Nick behind her. He stood so close she could smell the piney-woods scent of his aftershave. She knew it was crazy to be thinking of him in those terms, especially when he didn’t approve of what she had come here to do. But she could no longer deny the low-grade attraction that had been simmering between them since the night he’d walked into the mansion.

“It’s late,” she said. “I should probably call it a night.”

He stepped back, putting some much-needed distance between them. “I put your suitcase in the guest room at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you,” she said. “For being there tonight. For letting me stay here.”

“Stay as long as you want.”

Feeling awkward and unsettled, she turned away and fled to the guest room.