Simon Says Die

in my backyard for a while. And, well, there was just something . . . familiar about him.” She glanced at Pierce, wondering how much he’d told his boss. “I decided to confront him. He ran as soon as I stepped outside.”
    â€œHow many times have you seen him before? Where did you see him?”
    â€œI didn’t come here to talk about those other times. I’m here to talk about yesterday’s shooting.”
    â€œStandard background questions,” Pierce said. “It helps frame the overall investigation.”
    She grudgingly continued. “The first time I saw him was three weeks ago, right after I moved in. He had the hood of his denim jacket pulled up, just like yesterday, so I couldn’t see his face. He was standing on the sidewalk leaning against an oak tree. Technically, he wasn’t on my property. When I passed by my window half an hour later, he was still there. Watching my house.”
    She remembered the alarm that had shot through her. The way the man held himself, the way he stood, had reminded her of Damon. That, more than anything else, was why she’d called the police that first time. She’d hoped they would catch him and prove her irrational fears were groundless. “He never . . . did anything . . . other than stand there. But something about him made me uncomfortable.”
    â€œAnd the other times you saw him?” Pierce asked.
    â€œThe second time, he was closer, standing in my backyard by a storage shed. The next time, he was actually on my front porch when I turned into my driveway.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, remembering how shocked she’d been to see him standing there, peeking in her front window.
    Pierce leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. “What did he do when he saw you? What did you do?”
    â€œHe ran. I called the police. I’d hoped they’d find a fingerprint or something, figure out who he was and why he was so interested in my house.”
    â€œOr you,” Casey said.
    She nodded, swallowing hard. “Or me.”
    â€œYesterday morning,” Casey said, “you stepped outside to confront him.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd he ran?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd you chased him?”
    She felt her face heating up, just like when Pierce had asked her the same thing. “With hindsight, I know that was foolish. But at the time, honestly, I was just angry. This man kept watching my house, openly, like he didn’t care if I saw him. I mean, it’s like he . . .”—she shook her head, struggling to put her impressions into words—“it’s like he wanted me to see him, like he was trying to scare me. I wanted to talk to him, to ask him why he was watching me, and make him stop.”
    And prove to herself that the man who haunted her nightmares was really dead.
    She clutched the arms of the chair. “You know the rest. Pierce jumped in front of me when the man pulled a gun. I heard the gunshot, saw Pierce fall to the ground . . .” her voice trailed off. She tried not to let the horrible images from yesterday crowd into her mind again.
    Casey folded his hands on his desk. “Mrs. McKinley, Pierce told me you think the man you saw is your husband, that you think he faked his death.”
    She straightened in her chair. “I thought the purpose of this meeting was to clarify Pierce’s involvement in a shooting, not mine. I’ve already spoken to the police about this.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell them about Damon?” Pierce asked.
    â€œHow do you know I didn’t?”
    â€œI read your statement.”
    Madison clamped her lips shut and crossed her arms.
    Pierce sighed heavily. “We’re trying to help you.”
    She looked at Agent Casey. “The idea that my dead husband is running around Savannah trying to scare me is ridiculous. I was overwrought yesterday. The shooter bore a resemblance to my husband, but he’s not my husband.” She looked back at Pierce. “My husband is dead.” She rose from her seat, but Pierce quickly stood and moved to block her way.
    â€œYou’re not the kind of woman to have hysterics, or imagine things. I don’t buy for a second that you’ve changed your mind. You believe the shooter was Damon.” His face softened as he reached out to gently sweep her bangs out of her eyes. “Mads,