Temptation Trails - Page 132

Right?

“Do you think there are more victims?”

He slowly turned and met my eyes, his expression intense. He didn’t say a word. Just nodded.

My heart sped up and I swallowed hard. “Well that’s terrifying. I… I should go.”

“Do you want to come over?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you want to come to my house?”

“Um…”

“I want you to meet Lily.”

Sugar cookies, who was Lily? And why did I suddenly picture a soundproofed shed in Matt’s backyard with a missing woman named Lily inside?

My voice shook slightly. “Who’s Lily?”

“My pet.”

This wasn’t getting better. That made me picture a woman being held in a cage. “Pet?”

“Yeah, my bearded dragon. Do you want to come see her?”

I let out a breath. Okay, not a woman in a cage. But still. “Oh, no thank you. I shouldn’t.”

“She’s very tame.”

“That’s great, Matt. I’m sure she’s really cool. But I have to work.”

“It wouldn’t take long. I’m parked right there.” He pointed to a white van with the back doors open.

A. White. Van.

My eyes widened. Was this actually happening? All my childhood memories of stranger danger warnings had revolved around a creepy guy in a white van, and usually a pet. Granted, I’d been warned about not leaving with a stranger who claimed to have lost a puppy or something, not about saying no to going to some guy’s house to see his bearded dragon.

And did he really mean bearded dragon, or was that some kind of weird euphemism?

I needed to get out of there before Matt started offering me candy.

“I can’t, but thanks anyway.” I backed away before turning decisively so my meaning would be clear. I was leaving. He said goodbye but I didn’t answer. Just waved without looking.

My heart was still racing as I slipped into the bakery and locked the back door. It was just my luck I’d get a call from my mom then run into Matt outside.

Then I realized, of course. It was my luck.

I wasn’t going to think too deeply about the physics of it all, but Matt seemed to be a product of my bad luck curse.

Or, at least, I hoped that was all he was. My gut had told me from the first time I’d met him that something was off. And every time I saw him, I felt the same way. I wanted to believe he was just a bit weird, but what if he wasn’t? What if his fascination with true crime was more than it seemed.

A copycat, maybe? Did he fantasize about committing the crimes himself?

Had he ever acted out those fantasies?

My stomach turned over. Matt didn’t seem like a killer. Did he?