Jessica R. Patch

Killer Exposure


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eyes shut, holding back tears.

      “Did you know that? Did you know you were so lovely?” he asked again.

      Greer faced them, watched. Lin put her hand on his cheek and squeezed.

      “Mmm...you got a grip there, kiddo.” Locke laughed. “Good solid grip.”

      Greer chuckled, and Lin laughed with her.

      “Well, she likes you.”

      “She should. I’m her dad,” he said strongly. “I want to know everything, Greer. I want to know everything I missed. Because I’ve missed it all. You have to understand that, right?”

      Greer bit back tears. “I didn’t want us to be in your way. You’d just signed the two-year contract. I hadn’t. You were working your way into your dream. And...”

      “And what?”

      How did she explain that she knew he’d end up abandoning them? He’d just argue with her. “And, I’m sorry.” Sorry for this whole mess.

      “Me, too.” He rubbed Lin’s soft cap of raven hair. “It curls when it’s wet, doesn’t it?” he asked.

      “It does.”

      “So does mine.” He grinned.

      “I know,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you everything. Show you photos. Videos.” Whatever he wanted. But that didn’t make the fear go away. Seeing his gentleness didn’t give her hope. Dad had been fun with her, too. When she was little, he’d called her precious. “But I have to go to work, Locke. A killer is out there, and you’re right. I’m not safe until he’s behind bars.” She couldn’t let Locke see how terrified she truly was. He might try to take Lin away or something. She had to appear confident. Brave. In control. But she had never felt more helpless and out of control.

      “New storm system coming in today. Around two. I have to work, too, but I want all the time I have with her. You owe me that.”

      “I know.” But what about after? All the time he had. Meaning he wasn’t going to have a lifetime. Her anxiety ramped up and all she felt was her own rejection. Same rejection Lin would feel if Locke thought he could waltz in and out.

      Lin wiggled in Locke’s arms and reached for the high chair.

      “She wants her juice.” Greer handed it to her. “Let’s go in the living room.” She had about an hour before she needed to be on her way to the carnival. Interviews to conduct. A murder to investigate. She wasn’t sure what scared her most right now.

      The killer or Locke.

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