The Reclusive Widow (The Widow Taker Book 3)
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The Reclusive Widow
The Widow Taker
Book Three
KENNEDY LAYNE
THE RECLUSIVE WIDOW
Copyright © 2020 by Kennedy Layne
Kindle Edition
Cover Designer: Sweet ’N Spicy Designs
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
Rose Icon made by Freepik from www.flaticon.com is licensed by CC 3.0 BY
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Book
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
About The Safeguard Series
Books by Kennedy Layne
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne brings you the stunning conclusion to The Widow Taker trilogy…
Ridge Killian would have preferred to stay anonymous, given his past life as one of the most efficient snipers in recent U.S. military history. He even bought a house in a peaceful neighborhood where the most prevalent crime was not picking up after your dog. His quiet life is turned upside down when his next-door neighbor turns up half-dead on his doorstep.
Lily Hudson always had an aversion to attention, but that doesn’t seem to matter when she narrowly survives an attack in her own home. She has somehow caught the attention of a serial killer dubbed The Widow Taker and is now known to the public as the lone surviving victim.
Ridge finds himself in a predicament when the press leaks his identity as her savior, along with Lily’s ability to identify the killer. Their forced commiseration in protective custody spins into a sizzling chemistry neither one of them can ignore, but that only fuels The Widow Taker to eradicate the one woman who is responsible for his public humiliation.
Chapter One
The stillness of the night was undeniably majestic, as if someone had hit the pause button on their spinning planet. The peace that came with the darkness was a welcome respite from the tragic events of the past year, and even the wildlife seemed to appreciate the tranquility brought about by the somewhat overcast sky. Every now and then a moonbeam would escape from the confines of the clouds passing above, giving occasional spats of moonlight to those nocturnal creatures who might need it.
Lily Hudson pulled her scarf a little higher over her chin so that the blustery winds finessing their way through the surrounding trees wouldn’t snake their way down her neck and give her a chill. She had to remind herself that there was often beauty to be had in nature, even on cold nights such as this one. People just needed to take the time to be observant. She also chided herself for having forgotten all about taking the garbage out to the curb as she tugged on the large plastic bin so that the weight of it was balanced over its wheels.
She had a pretty long driveway that had been recently cleared by the snow removal service that she’d hired at the beginning of winter, so it ultimately wasn’t that inconvenient to lug the garbage to the end of the drive. The soles of her winter boots crunched what little snow remnants had been left behind, echoing throughout the dark night as if she was walking on a thin layer of Styrofoam.
By the time she’d made it to the mailbox, she was pretty sure that the small walk had burned more calories than the two miles that she’d run on the treadmill earlier today. Her quickened breath was coming out in large white puffs, and she briefly considered adding another mile to her daily workout routine until she realized how tedious that sounded.
For a time, all she’d craved was the return of monotony and its benign tranquility after her life had been torn apart.
Exercise had become her escape hatch of choice over the last twelve months or so, and she accepted that it was the bitter cold temperatures that made the walk of the driveway seem longer than it really was. What she needed was to find something else to occupy her time.
Maybe she’d take up knitting.
She’d seen the renewed trend on social media, and everyone claimed that it was a relaxing way to pass the time. A bonus was having new afghans for the living room that she’d just painted a warm cream shade named Swiss Coffee. A splash of subtle colors would be just the thing needed to tie everything together.
“Who would have ever thought that I’d take up knitting?” she muttered to herself as she grabbed what few envelopes had been left in the mailbox. “I can actually hear you laughing, Mom.”
Lily’s mother had been big into knitting, crocheting, and sewing before her death. She’d been a homemaker and proud of it, loving to mend clothes and knit booties for friends of the family who were expecting. She’d been a kind woman, and she’d been taken much too soon.
Lily sighed as she began to make the trek back to the garage. It wasn’t attached to the house, but she hadn’t really cared about that at the time she’d purchased the property. All she’d wanted was a place that wasn’t located directly in town, wasn’t visible from the road, and was surrounded by a natural landscape.
She’d gotten all three of her wishes in a small New England cottage that was located on an acre of land near the old lighthouse. There were two other properties on either side of hers that were similar, but everyone kept to themselves. She wouldn’t have had it any other way, or else she would have had to move farther out of state. It had been something that she’d actually considered after her husband had been arrested for murder, but she hadn’t been ready to leave her childhood home along with everything else that she’d lost in her life.
The fact that Parker had died in prison still hadn’t been enough to get her to leave Winter Heights, Connecticut. She’d been born and raised in the quaint town, though a lot of her friends had shown their true colors when she’d needed them the most.
Lily had learned early on that getting despondent over what remained of her life changed nothing.
She stuffed the envelopes inside her coat pocket and pushed all those appalling thoughts out of her mind. She’d finally made it back to her garage, where she was able to reach up and draw the frayed rope down so that the door followed close behind. It landed on the ground with a vibrating thud against the concrete pad.
She turned around and began to make her way back to the front door, her path lighted by the golden hue of the lightbulbs on either side of the front door that she’d painted cobalt blue last fall. The bushes and flowerbeds that were usually full of life in the summer had been covered with a landscaping canvas so that she wouldn’t need to dig dead leaves out of them come this spring. Various sized icicles hung from the steepled roof over the entryway, but she wouldn’t worry about them tonight.
She very rarely had visitors, other than Janice Simone.
The moment Lily opened the front door, the warmth of the cottage enveloped her in a way that caused goosebumps to break out over her arms. She sighed in contentment, removing her jacket and hanging it up in the tiny closet off the small foyer. Once her scarf and gloves had been stored in the appropriate bin and her boots had been set on the black mat to dry, she began to sort through the mail.
Two bills, one credit card offering, and a flyer for the new pub that had opened up downtown sometime within the last six months or so. She really wasn’t sure, as she wasn’t the regular bar-type patron. She was a homebody, like her mother had been, and she preferred to spend a Friday or Saturday night curled up on the couch and eating popcorn while watching a movie that took her mind off her own life.
As she made her way to the kitchen, the delicious aroma of the chocolate chip cookies that she’d made earlier that day hung in the air. Maybe she’d make herself a cup of hot chocolate to go with them before turning on one of her television shows that she’d prerecorded on her DVR.
With that in mind, she threw away the junk mail in the garbage can before setting the two bills on the counter. She’d pay them tomorrow when she took a moment to go through her email at her desk.
Opening the lower cabinet next to the stove to search for a saucepan, she stilled her movements when her gaze landed on the last batch of chocolate chip cookies that she’d left out to cool on the baking sheet.
One was missing.
Lily had been on her own for quite some time now, and she wasn’t afraid of being alone. It had certainly been an adjustment, but she prided herself on the speed of her acclimation. She wasn’t prone to hysteria, and she certainly never overreacted to something that would draw attention to herself. She considered herself independent, rational, and composed ninety-nine percent of the time.
Now?
The one percent had Lily’s heart racing faster than when she’d been on the treadmill earlier today. She was not imagining the empty space where one of the chocolate chip cookies had been cooling on the baking sheet.
Someone had taken one of the treats, which meant someone was in her home.
Someone who she hadn’t invited inside.
The coherent part of her brain was screaming there had to be a rational explanation, while the other was flashing images of the news that had been all over the local station today. It was common knowledge that a serial killer had been hunting widows that resided in Winter Heights.
It wasn’t that she thought she was special or immune to tragedy. She’d certainly had her fair share. In fact, she would say that her frame of mind on the subject was quite the opposite.
She only ever went into town once or twice a week, and many of the townsfolk most likely would have rather she’d died along with her husband last year. She’d basically secluded herself in her cottage, and she’d been happy to do so.
Whoever had entered her home had to have slipped inside when she’d taken the garbage can to the end of the driveway. She hadn’t purposefully peered into the living room when she’d entered the kitchen, not once feeling unsafe in her own home. The fact that her kitchen was separated from the living room made her feel slightly more secure than had the design been an open layout.
If she were to turn around, she would be able to see through the accessible area that made up a small breakfast nook. Stools lined the other side of the recess, but the only main entrance into the kitchen was the doorway that she’d accessed from the small foyer. Would someone be in the living room when she finally turned around?
The media had dubbed the serial killer murdering women in cold blood The Widow Taker.
Was he in her home?
Was she his next target?
She found it hard to swallow around the lump of fear that had suddenly lodged in her throat.
The faintest sound of fabric moving could finally be heard from somewhere behind her, but she’d been waiting for it. Every hair on her body was now standing at attention, and her senses were heightened as her fight or flight instincts were battling with one another.
The only saving grace was that she was positive the intruder wasn’t in the kitchen.
There was still a chance that she could escape unharmed, but she would have to be ready to run. She’d left her cell phone in the living room. Calling 911 was out of the question. The keys to her car were in her purse, which just so happened to be hanging in the closet. There was no way that she’d be able to reach them without the intruder reaching her first.
She had no choice but to fight for her life.
As fast as she could, she lunged for one of the knives that had been slotted into the butcher block. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting when she finally spun around, but it certainly wasn’t an empty living room. The adrenaline that had begun coursing through her veins came to a sudden halt, forcing the air out of her lungs.
For a split second, she thought maybe she’d overreacted.
Then Lily recalled the missing chocolate chip cookie.
Someone was in her house.
With a shaky breath, she took a moment to consider her options while straining to hear any sounds from somewhere inside her home.
Was the intruder around the corner waiting for her to walk out of the kitchen?
Was he setting a trap for her to walk into?
Tightening her grip on the handle of the eight-inch carving knife, she edged her way to the counter as quietly as she could in order to peer farther into the living room. All the while, she kept glancing back at the entryway to make sure that she wasn’t ambushed without any warning.
When no one appeared, she finally allowed herself to lean over the counter and scan the living room and staircase that led upstairs.
Was the intruder waiting for her in her bedroom?
If so, how was it possible that she’d heard him move nearby?
There was still a chance that he was waiting for her in the foyer right around the corner, but it wasn’t like she could stand there forever and wait to be attacked in her own home. Her best bet was to try and make it to the closet to retrieve her car keys. She was too afraid to enter the heart of her home to grab her cell phone without knowing the definite location of the intruder.
She regarded the baking sheet with hesitation as she took a tentative step forward.
Would a killer be so bold as to eat a cookie in one of his victim’s residences? It seemed like such an outrageous deed, but she figured a killer would feel entitled to do anything he so pleased if he was willing to take a life.
With her mind made up, she took a few tentative steps forward when the silence remained untouched. By the third step, confidence that she could make it safely outside began to blossom inside of her.
Much like before, her conviction crumbled when she didn’t encounter an empty foyer.
A man dressed in all black with his face covered in a matching ski mask materialized out of the shadows. He must have been hiding right around the corner, just out of sight. She came up short when they had what one would call a standoff, but he had the physical edge.
He was much larger than she was, and most assuredly stronger.
She backed up hastily to the middle of the kitchen, quickly going over her options. Unfortunately, there were very limited.
Her kitchen light glistened off the blade that he was holding in his hand, which just so happened to be the same size as hers. The only reason she stood a chance against him was that she’d had time to somewhat prepare for the upcoming assault—one that wouldn’t happen if she could help it.
“I don’t know who you are, and I honestly don’t care,” Lily said, barely able to hear her own voice. She spoke up, hoping her false bravado would make him think twice about coming for her. “I won’t go down without a fight
. I won’t make this easy for you.”
“I can make it better.”
What the hell did that mean?
“Please,” Lily found herself begging, her previous fear returning tenfold at the fact that the man in front of her was obviously insane. “Just leave.”
“I can’t do that, Mother.”
A sob escaped Lily when she accepted that there was no talking herself out of this, but she couldn’t bring herself to accept death without a fight. She wasn’t ready to die, even though she’d basically lost everything long before this night. It wasn’t in her to give up, not after what she’d endured over the past year. She might not be able to get around him, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a way out.
Without thought that he might be able to reach her, Lily spun around and ran toward the counter. He caught her by the high ponytail that she’d secured her hair in before her daily workout this evening. All the air in her lungs came out as a rush when he yanked her back against him, causing her to reach up with her left hand and grab ahold of him.
The pain against her scalp was severe, and she tried to gouge his eyes.
Her fingernails caught his black mask at the same time that she swung the knife down with all her might.
His guttural scream of pain echoed off the appliances, and he released her just enough that she was able to pull his mask off before grabbing the counter and pulling herself over. She landed hard on the floor, toppling two stools in the process. She must have dropped the knife, because it was nowhere to be found as she scrambled to her feet and began to run toward the back door. The exit led to nothing but dense woods, but she’d be able to run through the trees to the property next door.
Lily didn’t even take time to look behind her as she fumbled with the deadbolt. Her hands were covered in blood, but she wasn’t taking the chance that the intruder was lying on her floor and bleeding out.
She had to reach one of the neighbors and have them call the police.
The cold air hit her full force, but her panic and adrenaline had her stumbling through the back yard and into the small forest that separated her property from the others. She thought about yelling, but she wasn’t so sure that anyone could hear her quite yet.