Chase shook his head. He believed Jack, even though the man was crazy. And he couldn't remotely consider that Jack was a killer.
"Jack may be insane, but I can't see him killing anyone. His obsession was with you, not the rest of humanity Charlotte."
"So someone else is murdering foster kids?"
And the even more intriguing question was why? Was the person responsible for the murders put into an abusive home? Left to defend for himself because no one helped him?
Chase nodded. "Yeah I think so."
Charlotte's face paled. How could this be happening? "Which means we should get back to your house."
Again, Chase nodded. He had guards and a great alarm system that would alert them to an intruder. He grasped her hand in his, entwining their fingers. He wasn't letting her go. "Let's get out of here then."
"Great idea. Let's go."
They strolled to the elevator, and waited for its arrival. The doors opened, and both stepped inside. Chase hit the button for the basement and the doors closed. Then it sailed them down to the lowest floor, the ride smoother than usual. When the doors opened, they both marched out. As it was, Charlotte was lucky her feet could still move, she was so shaky. Everything was getting to be too much, even for her. Which was saying something, because she could endure a lot.
Chase guided her over to his shiny black convertible, the one she'd always wanted a ride in. Although now that she had the chance, she was nervous. Even more so, Chase was taking her to his house.
However, before she could think anymore of it, she saw a slip of paper on Chase's windscreen underneath a wiper. She slid her hand from Chase's and reached for the scrap of paper. She turned it over, then gasped as she read the words. "Tick tock, your time is up."