Now she didn’t have to worry about that. The house was gutted, the flames only now sputtering out thanks to the firefighters. The fire had burned so hard. So fast. He was there. He took my necklace. He’s tried to take everything. She had the blanket around her shoulders, but she wasn’t cold. With that much heat in the air, how could anyone be cold? Anthony had gotten patched up, only because she’d dragged an EMT over to him. More cops swarmed the scene. Paul rushed up on his motorcycle. The guy always liked to ride it when he was off duty. He shoved down his kickstand and raced toward her. “Lauren!” He grabbed her. Held her tight. The scent of smoke was so strong in the air. “What the hell happened?” He pushed her back. “Why are you even here?” “She wanted her necklace.” Anthony was the one who answered. “Only the bastard was waiting for us.” Anthony glanced back at the charred remains of the house. “Jesus,” Paul said. “Did you find Hawthorne?” Anthony demanded.
