Chapter 2

I pushed Leon away and quickly stepped back. "Don't touch me!"

Everyone in the hallway stopped and stared.

To them, I was just a basket case who'd lost it from the grief.

Meanwhile, everyone saw Leon as a perfect fiancé. He'd lost the love of his life, but he stayed calm and thought of everything.

He stumbled back from my shove, his back hitting the wall.

He didn't get angry. Instead, he looked at me with deep sympathy in his eyes. "Kelly, I know you're struggling to wrap your head around Emily's death. But obviously, you're having a PTSD episode.

"You're refusing to face reality, and you're even starting to lash out at the people closest to you."

He then turned to Joseph, his tone sincere. "Captain Hill, Kelly's mental state is extremely unstable right now.

"As a psychiatrist, I strongly recommend confiscating her service weapon to prevent any accidents."

My eyes were red from crying, and I was clearly losing it. Joseph looked me over and finally gave a nod. "Kelly, hand over your piece."

"Captain Hill!" I stared at the man I trusted most, totally stunned.

"This is an order!" Joseph barked.

My hand shook as I pulled my gun from its holster and slammed it down on the table.

Without my piece, I was like a tiger without teeth.

Leon came over and gave my hand a light pat. "Kelly, be good."

His gaze was controlling, like he held all the cards.

I fixed my gaze on him, etching this moment deep into my mind.

By the time I left the station, it was pouring outside.

Leon stood at the bottom of the steps with a black umbrella. He was waiting for me. "Hop in, Kelly. I'll give you a ride back to your place."

"Spare me your phony kindness." I ran straight into the downpour.

He didn't chase after me. He just stood there, watching me walk away.

By the time I got back to the apartment I shared with Emily, I was soaked to the bone.

The moment I opened the door, the rich scent of beef stew hit me.

I froze and quietly reached for the tactical knife on the shoe rack. Right then, I heard someone humming a cheerful tune in the kitchen.

It was Leon. He was wearing Emily's favorite pink apron and was chopping meat with a cleaver.

He turned when he heard me, flashing a gentle smile. "Kelly, you're back? Go take a shower. The beef stew's almost ready.

"Before she passed, your sister told me how hard you train. She was always so worried about you getting a good meal."

I tightened my grip on the knife, giving him a cold stare. "How did you get in here?"

He set the cleaver aside and casually wiped his hands on a towel. "Emily had given me a spare key."

He stepped right up to me, reaching out as if to help peel off my drenched coat.

I twisted away, the tip of my knife pressing hard against his stomach. "Get out."

He looked down at the knife. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he took a step toward me.

The tip of the blade pierced his shirt, and a thin line of blood seeped out.

"Kelly, you don't even dare to use force when cutting vegetables. How are you going to kill anyone?" He smiled and grabbed the blade with his hand, blood trickling between his fingers. "Kelly, are you okay?"

I turned on the faucet and splashed water on my face, again and again.

I couldn't fall apart. I fought like hell to keep it together.

That code my sister left me before she died was a warning. I couldn't lose my head.

I looked up at my pale face in the mirror. "Leon, what are you really up to?"

Leon handed me a dry towel. "I'm just honoring Emily's final wish. I'm here to take care of you."

Over the next few days, Leon moved into the guest room like he owned the place.

He had meals ready on time and kept the house spotless.

To anyone else, he was the perfect brother-in-law.

But I knew the truth. He was slowly invading my life, bit by bit.

He was testing my limits.

I needed to take the initiative.

*****

One afternoon, Leon headed to the precinct to give a follow-up statement.

I made up an excuse about having a headache and stayed home.

As soon as he was gone, I pried open the briefcase he'd left in the guest room.

Inside, there was nothing but a few ordinary medical records.

But I noticed his car keys were gone.

I quickly changed into plainclothes and caught a cab straight to his clinic.

As a cop, I knew exactly what made these high-IQ psychos tick.

They always hid their darkest secrets in the place they felt safest.

The clinic was closed for the day.

I used a piece of wire to pick the back door lock in seconds and made a beeline for the consulting room at the very back.

The room lock required both a fingerprint and a passcode.

I slipped on my gloves and ran a UV light across the keypad.

A few keys had residual sebum on them.

I tried a couple of combinations, and the door clicked open.

I turned on his computer and typed in his anniversary with Emily. The password was incorrect.

I paused for a beat and tried my own birthday. The computer unlocked, and a folder appeared on the desktop.

I clicked on the folder. There was only one video inside.

In the video, Emily was screaming at the top of her lungs. "Bob Cooper. Bob Cooper."

Tears burst from my eyes at the sight of her.

Right then, an ice-cold hand landed on my shoulder. "What are you watching, Kelly?"