“Now that was fun,” Luke said as we left the club just before eleven. “But this isn’t.” It was raining, making our dash for the van an exercise in trying to get to it before we got soaked to the skin.
We succeeded, though we were far from dry. As we took off, I checked my phone for messages, since I’d turned it off while we were in the club. There was one from Tyler, sent about five minutes ago. All it said was, Get the hell back home.
I told the others, then called Tyler back. “What’s going on?” I asked him as soon as he answered, dreading his reply.
“Not another murder,” Tyler assured me. “But it looks like the killer was more than pissed that no one was around. He took it out on your place.”
I sucked in a breath, envisioning my house in charred ruins. “How bad?”
“Not a bad as it co
