Lethal

“You’ll stay here?”

She nodded.

“I’ll come back. As soon as I know.” Trent swung the car door open and climbed out. Cool spring air rushed into the interior, the scents of spruce and lilac strong and sweet. The door slammed behind him.

For a moment Risa merely sat still, breath coming in gasps. Her mind swirled with images of tangled hair and pale, dead eyes. Images of Dryden’s evil she’d seen while studying him. The thought that Nikki had been victimized by that evil sent waves of panic crashing through her.

No matter what she told Trent, she couldn’t stay in the car. Horrific or not, she had to see. She had to know if the dead woman was Nikki. Risa couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe until she knew.

She grasped the handle of her door, the metal cold and solid under her fingers. Gathering her strength, she shoved the door open. Her head pounded. A hum rose in her ears. Hefting herself from the car, she forced her legs to support her weight.

One step. Two steps.

Risa teetered across her lawn toward the police lights, toward the front porch of her house. She was already within the police barrier. Just a straight shot across the yard. The grass dragged at her shoes. The scents of spring swamped her, sticky as sweet syrup in the humid air.

Three steps. Four.

The hum grew louder in her head, drowning out the murmur of voices, drowning out the pounding of her heart. She walked on. Over the grass. Through the plantings. Up the cement walk. Closer and closer to the gathering of people. Closer and closer to the front porch.

Closer and closer to death.

Nikki.

The cloying odor of raw flesh reached her, covered her, clogged her throat. Still she forged ahead. She had to see for herself. She had to know.

The hum choked out all other sound, like mind-numbing static. Her heart felt as if it was about to burst, her lungs about to collapse. She took the final steps to the porch, nudging between the circle of cops and technicians. Shoving her way through.

“Rees.” From out of nowhere, Trent lunged for her, grasping her arm, trying to pull her away.

Too late.

Red glistened from the open chest of the sprawled woman. The open belly. Her brown hair was tangled around her pale face. Her hollow eyes stared.

Not Nikki.

Not Nikki.

Farrentina Hamilton.

Horror and relief swept through Risa in a powerful wave. Her knees buckled. Her stomach retched. Strong arms grabbed her, pulled her close, and swept her away.

Risa clung to Trent, burying her face in his shoulder. Her body trembled in fits and spurts, like shock waves after an earthquake. Horror numbed her mind.

Trent

Trent held Rees tight against him even after her shaking had waned. He shouldn’t have left her in the car alone. He hadn’t been thinking. If he had, he would have realized Risa would have to see the body for herself. She would have to know if it was her sister. He never should have allowed her to reach the porch.

To witness Dryden’s work.

He pressed his cheek to her hair and breathed in her scent. Over the top of her head, he could see Subera directing evidence technicians. Now that they had a second body on their hands, Subera would use anything at his disposal to bring Dryden down. And Cassidy would make sure that Rees was at the top of the list.

Unless Trent could provide an alternative.

“You have to go,” he said.

She peered up at him. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

Her voice was firm, but her dilated pupils and the deathly white pallor of her skin told a different story. But as much as he hated to let her out of the circle of his arms, he had to. His embrace might have been comforting at the moment she saw Farrentina’s body. But in the long-term, he would only bring her more pain.

If he wanted to comfort Risa, the one thing he could do was his job.

“I’ll get a deputy to take you back to the hotel and stand guard outside your door. It’s hard to say when I’ll get back. I want to study the evidence here and attend the autopsy. And then there’s the warden and Cassidy and the guards Farrentina bribed.”

“So it will be a while.”

“Yes.”

“Chief Schneider wanted to ask me some questions about Nikki. Will you tell him to come to the hotel?”

“You need to rest, Rees.”

“While Dryden does to Nikki what he did to Farrentina?” She shook her head. “I have to do whatever I can to stop him. And so do you.”

“All right,” he said. There was no use arguing. Rees would drive herself into the ground if it meant even a sliver of a chance Nikki would return home alive. And he couldn’t blame her. He’d done the same for people he’d never met. “I’ll give Schneider the message.”

“I’ll be fine, Trent.” She managed a shaky smile, a smile that didn’t fool him for a minute. “Just find Nikki. Before...”

“I will.” He looked into her dark eyes then forced himself to let her go.

Nikki

Nikki shook another cigarette free from its pack and pinched it between her aching lips. Her hands were still shaking so badly, it took her three tries before she could get the lighter to work. She held flame to tobacco and drew.

The smoke burned a little, no cool menthol like the kind she and her friends had smoked in the gully behind their high school. She waited for the chill feeling she’d always gotten back then, but it was out of reach.

She suspected she’d never feel chill again.

The screams had stopped hours ago, but Eddie hadn’t come back. Not yet. At first Nikki hadn’t known what to do. She’d paced. She’d cut the barbs off the end of the fish hooks with a wire cutter and pulled them out of her lip. She’d cleaned the cabin floor, sweeping, then washing it with a rag and pine cleaner she’d found under the sink. Another cabinet yielded a carton of smokes, so she’d been focused on them since.

Trying to calm down.

Trying to make sense.

An engine hummed from outside the cabin. Tires popped over gravel. The slam of a single car door.

Nikki took another drag, her trembling not lessening one bit. She could only hope the car outside belonged to the cops. That they’d arrest her, take her away, lock her up where she could never see Eddie again. But when the door opened, Eddie walked in.

“You’re still here. Good girl.”

“I… I have nowhere else to go.”

“That’s right.”

Eddie rummaged through a cupboard, finally pulling out a bottle of whiskey covered in dust. He opened the bottle and took a swig, not bothering to offer it to Nikki. He sat next to her, the old hide-a-bed couch creaking under his weight.

Nikki finished smoking then lit up another. She was starting her second pack by the time she got up the nerve to ask. “Who was she to you?”

“Who?”

“Farrentina. The woman you killed.”

“What does that matter?”

“She visited you. At Banesbridge. Before we got married.”

“And after.”

Nikki couldn’t even manage to feel hurt. All she could think about was Farrentina. Nikki had seen her waiting at the prison after Nikki emerged from the visiting room. The woman was beautiful, glamorous, someone who stuck in your head. Nikki’d never guessed they were there to see the same man.

Not until tonight.

“Did you love her?”

“What was not to love?”

“But… but you…”

“Hunted her? Killed her?” Excitement animated his face and laced his voice. “Gutted her?”

Nikki looked away.

“Does that scare you, Nikki?”

Of course, it scared her. Her throat was so dry she could barely speak. But for some reason, she didn’t want to admit it. She’d do just about anything to avoid admitting it. “I… I just want to understand.”

“Didn’t you read your sister’s theories?”

Nikki shook her head.

“Look at me.”

Nikki forced herself to focus on his eyes.

“You didn’t read Risa’s article? The one you told me about?”

“No. I swear.”

“Good. Your sister is full of shit.”

Risa had warned Nikki. Over and over. But Nikki hadn’t wanted to believe her. She still didn’t feel totally sure, even though she knew she should be. All Nikki had ever wanted was to be loved, to be special. Eddie had given her that. He’d given her so much. “None of this makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

“You said it was your wife…”

“It was. That was about survival. Self-defense. After all she did to me, I had to fight back, didn’t I?”

Nikki tried to swallow. Her tongue felt swollen and dry. Her lip throbbed.

“Didn’t I?”

“Yes… of course… but…”

“But what?”

“I… You said you changed. That I changed you.”

“Women like that, don’t they? They say they’re in love, that they want to marry a man for who he is, and then all they ever want is for him to change. That is what doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t want you to change.”

“You just said you did.”

“No, I didn’t mean that, I…”

“You don’t even lie well.”

“No, Eddie, please. I love you. I just want to understand.”

“You want to know why I killed her.”

Nikki did… and she didn’t. Unable to look into his eyes one second longer, she lowered her gaze, focused on his shirt. Fine drops of blood sprayed the navy cotton, like a universe of dark stars.

It took her three tries to get the words out. “Why did you?”

He took a gulp from the bottle then broke into a smile. “So I didn’t have to kill you.”

Trent

Most people wouldn’t think of human mortality as having an odor, but Trent knew better. It hung in the autopsy room, raw as peeled flesh and thick as blood. It colored the air like a red cloud and soaked so deeply into clothing fibers, hair, and skin that even scrubbing with harsh detergents wouldn’t remove all the residue.

The coroner looked up from his ice cream sandwich, a trickle of melted cream snaking into his scruffy, salt-and-pepper beard. “Hiya.”

“Trent Burnell. I’m with the FBI.”

“Coulda guessed that from the suit.” The man held out the open box of ice cream novelties. “Sandwich?”

“Uh, no thanks.”

He popped the last bite into his mouth and licked his fingers. “Suit yourself. So you from Milwaukee?”

“Quantico.”

“Ahh, you must be the Silence of the Lambs man.”

“Silence of the Lambs?”

“The movie. Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lector.”

“I know the one. It was also a book.”

“I only saw the movie. But you wouldn’t be Hopkins, would you? You’d be who, Scott Glenn?”

Trent had the feeling this county coroner would be more than happy chatting about movies all day, and Trent didn’t have the time. “And you must be Harlan Runk.”

“I must be. Welcome to my morgue, Scott.”

“Scott?” Subera bulled his way through the door. “Who’s Scott?”

“Another one, huh?” Harlan wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “Guess that makes him Jodie Foster.”

Subera shot Harlan a pained look. “This isn’t another Silence of the Lambs thing, is it?”

Trent gave him a sympathetic tilt of the lips. Since the movie had come out in 1991, five years ago now, FBI agents had been subjected to endless streams of comments related to the film and jokes about fava beans.

It was getting a little old. “Why don’t we get to the autopsy?”

“Right-o. Time’s a wastin’.” The coroner bounced off his stool and directed them to the boxes of protective clothing to pull over their suits, hair, and shoes. “You want to start with Mr. Bevin or Ms. Hamilton?”

“Hamilton,” Trent said. As tragic as the death of Bevin was, the body found in Nikki’s car by a jogger, Trent was fairly certain Dryden’s core motive for killing him was simple. He and Nikki needed a car that law enforcement everywhere wasn’t searching for. Farrentina Hamilton, on the other hand, might provide them with some answers. And the sooner they got answers, the better.

When the coroner left, Subera turned to Trent. “We have to talk.”

Trent braced himself for what was coming.

“I want to set that trap for Dryden,” Subera said slipping off his suit jacket. “Do you think Professor Madden is still game?”

Thunder rose in Trent’s ears. He wanted to say she’d changed her mind, but one word with Risa and Subera would know it was a lie. “You’ll have to talk to her.”

“I think it could work. And frankly, I don’t see us having a lot of alternatives. Hash it out after the autopsy?”

“Yeah. Sure.” A conversation Trent was not looking forward to.

Once they were fully covered in seafoam green garb, Trent and Subera ventured back into the autopsy theater.

The cooler door stood open, a waft of colder and even fouler air drifting into the room. Harlan Runk emerged with a gurney and positioned it, and the body it bore, in front of the long, stainless steel sink. Bright lights reflected off his round, cherry-red cheeks and nose, making him look like a middle-aged Santa Claus during his off months. “Isn’t Dan Cassidy supposed to be here? Or is it just going to be you Federal folks today?”

Trent hadn’t had a chance to confront the detective, a conversation he was looking forward to much more than the one with Subera.

Trent checked his watch. “We really can’t afford to wait.”

Next to him, Subera nodded. “We’ll start without Cassidy.”

“Will do.” With the flourish of a well-rehearsed tradition, Doc punched the Play button on the boom box in the corner and unveiled Farrentina Hamilton’s body. Soft strains of Duke Ellington spiraled through the room, the energetic jazz a strange backdrop to the gruesome scene spread before them.

Like Dryden’s other victims, a deep knife slit ran from her breastbone to her pubic bone. But instead of focusing on the horror of the wound or the memories of Dryden’s other victims, Trent pulled out his notebook and started jotting down dry facts. Details. Evidence.

Later the sight of Farrentina’s body would haunt him, torment him, just like all the others. The cruelty she’d endured. The degradation and pain and terror she’d felt in her last moments. The evil that had stolen her life. But now, the only way to stop Dryden was to pay attention.

As unkempt and eccentric as Harlan appeared at first, the man seemed to be conscientious when it came to his job. He prodded and measured and weighed and photographed, dictating into his voice recorder as he worked. He started with the external exam, documenting each scrape, bruise, and cut. Ligature marks circled her wrists and neck. Fish hooks punctured various parts of her body, the more sensitive, the better, it seemed. Her hands, knees and the bottoms of her feet were scuffed and gashed, debris clinging to the wounds. Her nails were chipped and something that appeared to be soil was lodged underneath.

Harlan would describe it all in his report. But a picture of what had happened was already forming in Trent’s mind.

Like with the others, Dryden had kidnapped her, tied her hands, stripped her naked, and maybe started the torture. Fish hooks were a new twist, but eventually, as with the others, he’d let her loose in a remote forest. Her bare feet would have grown sore as she ran over the forest floor. Branches and brambles would have ripped at her hair and torn at her unprotected skin. Dryden would have given her a head start, only a minute or two, and then he would have set out after her, hunting her, terrorizing her, until he finally either caught up with her or shot her to slow her down.

Harlan found no bullet wounds, so either he had outpaced her, outsmarted her, or she returned to him, unwilling to believe he would do something so horrible. However it had played out, Dryden enjoyed the hunt because it allowed him to feel his victim’s fear and pain. And catching her, however he managed it, proved his superiority.

It wasn’t a unique signature. Most killers of his type found some way to cause their victims fear and pain. There had even been an infamous killer in Alaska who had kidnapped prostitutes and flown them into the wilderness to hunt them. Trent had suspected that was where Dryden had gotten the idea.

The bastard was cruel, but he didn’t have a lot of imagination.

After the quarry was under control, Dryden’s signature got more personal. This was the portion Trent believed that gave the psychopath the most satisfaction.

Ed Dryden had grown up in a deer hunting family, common in this part of Wisconsin. What was less common was the severe abuse and humiliation he’d suffered at the hands of his drunken wreck of a father. But from the time Ed Dryden was small, he’d been charged with removing the deer’s organs and preparing the venison. It was something he was good at, the only time he truly felt capable and confident.

So that’s what he did to the women. He would hunt them down, sink the knife, and slice from sternum to pubic bone. As the last of life drained from his victims, he would clean out their organs, every one, and hang them from a tree.

In Farrentina’s case, he’d transported her body to Rees’s porch and displayed her for the police to find. An attempt to humiliate, dominate, and control. Not just Farrentina, but Risa, too.

But the question wasn’t only about what the monster had done and why. The most urgent question in this case was where.

Dryden needed a secluded place to stage his hunt. Farrentina owned a vast estate, but if he had hunted her down on her own property, the deputies outside her house surely would have heard her screams. And since he and Rees had seen Farrentina mere hours before she died, Dryden’s secluded spot couldn’t be too far from either Farrentina’s house or Risa’s.

And Trent had a feeling that if they found that secluded location, they’d find Dryden.

Trent moved to the bottom of the gurney and examined the debris sticking to the blood on her feet, hands, and knees. To the naked eye it looked like it could have come from any forest in southern Wisconsin. But detailed analysis just might narrow down the area. That, along with what they knew about the time frame in which the murder occurred, could give them a location.

“Can we get a rush on the analysis of this debris?” Trent asked Subera.

“I’ll push for it.”

Doc’s assistant began collecting the debris while Doc continued his prodding. Once he’d put every last bit in an evidence bag, he left for the lab.

Dan Cassidy strode into the room in the assistant’s wake, still pulling his protective clothing on over a wrinkled white shirt. “Sorry to leave you here alone with the famous-but-incompetent, Doc.”

Trent focused on the detective, taking in the lines of tension ringing his mouth, the shadows creasing the skin under his eyes. “We need to talk, Cassidy.”

Cassidy’s gaze shot to meet Trent’s. An unmistakable shift of wariness crossed his sharp features. “What’s up?”

“You tell me.” Trent skewered Cassidy with a glare. “Why didn’t you tell Special Agent Subera or me that Farrentina Hamilton was bribing prison guards on Dryden’s behalf?”

“What’s wrong? You feebs couldn’t figure it out on your own?”

“You could have saved us time. We’re supposed to work together.”

“Work together, my ass.” He scoffed. “You exaggerated a sighting you knew was bogus so you could take over.”

Trent eyed Cassidy. He’d known from the beginning the detective wasn’t happy to lose control of the manhunt. Could the detective’s secretiveness merely be resentment of the FBI? He had to admit it was possible. He’d seen it before. “Care to explain how you stumbled upon the bribery in the first place, Detective?”

“Ever hear of police work? You should try it sometime.”

“Cut the crap, Cassidy,” Subera said. “We have a serial killer out there.”

“One of the other guards tipped me off a few weeks ago. Complained that Dryden was getting preferential treatment. Apparently he reported it to the warden, but he didn’t get results. He thought Hanson might be sharing in some of the green flying around. I was investigating before Dryden escaped.”

Trent nodded. Cassidy’s explanation sounded plausible. And it would be easy to check.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Burnell. You’re trying to keep your little professor from putting herself on a hook. Well, don’t bother looking at me. I’ve done my job. I’ve turned the lives of those three guards upside down and haven’t found a damn thing beyond them trading TV time for a little cash.”

“You’d damn well better get me copies of those reports, Detective,” Subera said.

“Turned ’em over to one of your men on my way here.”

The guards weren’t the only ones in position to help Dryden escape. There was still Warden Hanson.

As if reading his thoughts, Cassidy grinned. “If you’re betting on the warden giving you some answers, don’t. I’ve been through his financial records. His wife’s aunt died recently and gave him an infusion of cash. Other than that, the man lives within his means. Besides, we’ve had officers watching him and his wife since you alerted us last night. So far he’s gone to work, and she shopped for handbags. Not exactly suspicious activities.”

“A few hours of working and shopping doesn’t mean anything.” Trent filled Cassidy in on Warden Hanson’s thwarted Supermax ambition.

“Who hasn’t been informing who?”

Trent narrowed his eyes on the detective. “You obviously dislike Risa Madsen. And her sister. Why?”

“What does it matter? I’ve done my job.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“What the hell don’t I have against them, that’s what you should be asking.” He shook his head, his mouth twisting into a sneer. “Do you want to know what I think about women like them? Do you really want to know?”

Trent said nothing, just waited for him to continue.

“Women who find toying with that kind of danger fun? Whether they are marrying him or studying him, it’s all the same. Either way, if he got the chance, he’d string ’em up and kill them in a minute.”

“It’s not the same.”

“How? None of them want to see what a monster he really is. They think he’s fascinating, exciting, even a victim of big bad law enforcement. They blame us and glorify him. It makes me sick.”

Though what Cassidy was saying rubbed Trent the wrong way, he could understand the detective’s frustration. He’d felt it himself more than once. Trent could probably cross Cassidy off the Dryden-helper list.

“Fellas, before you do much more talking, I think you’ll want to take a look at this.”

Trent, Cassidy, and Subera leaned over the autopsy table. Deep in the chest cavity, something glinted dully in the bright lights.

After snapping a series of photos, Doc reached into the cavity with a forceps and grasped the object. A silver chain, muted by blood, unfurled as he pulled. A silver locket emerged on the end of the chain. Doc held up the find.

Subera leaned forward, trying to get a better look. “What the hell is that doing inside her?”

Trent’s stomach hardened like a cold, tight fist. He thought of the photo of Rees and Nikki with the teddy bears. In that photo, Nikki had worn a locket. Risa had said she’d given it to her little sister as a gift. “Open it.”

Doc grasped the locket gingerly with latex-gloved fingers and pressed the release. The tiny door flipped open.

Folded inside was a photo of Rees as a girl posing in front of a beaten-up trailer. Trent had seen the picture before, and Risa had explained that it was taken the day she’d moved into her dad’s house. She’d given the locket to Nikki, and told her little sister she would always be with her.

A promise that didn’t come true.

But as sad as that memory was, the condition of the photo was more upsetting. It was slit down the middle, just as the photo of Nikki they’d found in Dryden’s cell had been.

Trent stepped away from the body, pulse hammering in his ears, drowning out the beat of Harlan’s jazz. He’d finish with Cassidy later. He’d go over the autopsy protocols later. Now he had to get to Rees.

This locket was a threat… and a promise. And Dryden wasn’t one to patiently wait to deliver on either.

Trent only prayed he wasn’t too late.

Nikki

“I told you he would keep her close.”

Nikki peered out the dirty windshield at the county sheriff’s car parked in front of the Sauk Trail Inn. Eddie had insisted she call almost every hotel and motel in Lake Loyal and the surrounding area to find out where Trent Burnell was staying. She hadn’t even known her sister’s ex was in Wisconsin, but Eddie was sure. He was also sure Risa would be staying with Trent, even though Nikki told him they weren’t together anymore. And to top it off, Eddie had predicted a police car would be waiting at the hotel.

Eddie seemed to know everything. But more and more, Nikki wondered if she really knew him.

Nikki looked down at her hands, ashamed she would feel that way about her husband. The man she loved. The man who loved her.

She was so mixed up.

The sound of Eddie opening his door made her jump.

“The cop, Eddie. He’ll see you.”

“The cop’s inside. With Risa.”

“You shouldn’t go in there. He’ll—”

“I’m not worried about the cop.”

“But why risk it?”

“I have to see your sister.”

Nikki couldn’t help but remember what she’d overheard at Farrentina’s house. She’d been thinking of Trent’s comment ever since. That Eddie really loved Risa. That Nikki was a stand-in. That Risa was the special one. Again. “Why do you need to see her? Why can’t you just stay here with me?”

“I have to tell her she was wrong.”

“About the article?”

A muscle twitched along Eddie’s jaw. “About you.”

“Did Risa say something about me? In your meetings?”

“She couldn’t stop talking about you.”

“What did she say?”

“I think you know.”

Tears pressed to break free. Nikki knew too well. Risa would say Nikki wasn’t trying hard enough. That she wasn’t living up to her potential. That she needed to be different… quit her job, go back to school, be more like Risa herself. Never mind that Nikki was never smart enough to do any of those things. “What are you going to say?”

“That I love you, for starters.”

Nikki felt a flush warm her body. Now she really was going to cry. “Oh, Eddie…”

“It’s true, babe. I chose you. I can have any woman I want, and I chose you.”

“You’re going to tell her that?”

“Yes. And I’m going to tell her exactly why.”

“But the cop, the guy at the desk…”

“They won’t be a problem. Because you’re going to help me.”

Nikki wrapped her arms around herself and shook her head. “I can’t. I—“

“I thought I could count on you, Nikki.”

“You can.”

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“You can, Eddie. I promise. It’s just…” The thought of what Eddie might do flitted through her mind. No. She couldn’t think that way. Eddie said he just wanted to talk to Risa. And he was being sweet now. Normal. The Eddie she knew.

“This is starting to make me angry, Nikki. I’m doing this for you, and you can’t even be there for me?”

“I’ll do anything you want. I just… I don’t want to see Risa.”

“You don’t have to. I want to take care of Risa alone. So you’ll help.”

It wasn’t a question. And even though Nikki didn’t understand what help he would need, she was too afraid to ask. “Okay.”

“Just do what I tell you. Even you won’t be able to fuck things up.” Eddie drove the car around the motel and stopped in front of a construction fence. He got out and started walking back to the entrance.

Nikki scampered to keep up. Just before they entered the lobby, he stopped.

“Wait.” He unbuttoned her blouse, leaving it gaping almost to her waist.

Nikki wanted to gather the fabric together, cover herself. But she didn’t want to make Eddie mad.

“Now go in and talk to the guy at the desk. Distract him. Get him to turn his back to the door so he doesn’t see me sneak past.”

Nikki focused on the paunchy older man behind the counter. “What do I say?”

“Flirt. Sell it. And if he wants to fuck you, let him.”

“What?” Nikki turned back to Eddie, but he was already walking away.

She wanted to think he didn’t mean that, that he couldn’t mean that, but she knew better. The thought seemed to excite him, just as it had on that dead-end road. And when he stopped just out of sight of the door and gave her a pointed stare, she knew she would go through with it. She didn’t have the strength to refuse.

Nikki opened the glass door and walked to the counter.

The man glanced up from his computer. His gaze rested for a second on her swollen lip, then slipped down to the open blouse. “Uh, hello.”

Nikki scrambled for something to say. “I need a room.”

“We don’t rent ‘em by the hour here, honey.”

For a second, Nikki was taken aback. “You think I’m a hooker?”

“You’re not?” The man’s eyes didn’t lift from her cleavage.

Nikki paused. She had to think.

Think.

“Listen, I really need a room. I’m tired. But I’m also lonely.”

The man looked her up and down. “Thought you said you weren’t a hooker.”

“I’m not.”

“You ain’t some kind of cop, are you?”

“Cop?” Nikki shook her head. She didn’t know when Eddie was going to make his appearance, but this was not going well. Not at all. “I’m not a cop.”

“Prove it.”

Nikki wanted to turn and run, get out of here, get lost. Instead, she spread her blouse open, exposing herself to him. As he stared, she could feel a flush of shame heat her skin.

“Is there a back office or something where we could go?” Nikki asked. “I saw a cop car out there, and…”

“You are a hooker, aren’t you?”

“I’m not. I just don’t want the whole town seeing, okay?” She forced what she hoped was a sexy smile. With the throbbing lip, it was hard to tell. “Just you.”

“What do you take me for, lady?”

Nikki had no idea how to answer.

“I’m a good, God-fearing man, I’ll have you know. I ain’t interested in some kind of piece of shit whore.”

Nikki could feel panic rising in her throat, choking her. Eddie would be here any second. If she didn’t hold up her end, he would be so mad.

So very mad.

“Come on back.”

Nikki circled the counter and marched into a small back room the size of a large walk-in closet. Shelves lined the walls, filled with towels, sheets, pillows, toilet paper, and everything else a motel might need.

“Hey, there!” The man’s bulk filled the doorway. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out of here.”

Nikki pressed back against a rack of towels.

“Get out of here. There’s a cop upstairs. I’m gonna to call him on you. Have him lock you—”

Nikki didn’t even realize Eddie was in the room until she saw the blood. The man stumbled forward, coughing, grabbing at his own throat. He slammed into her and they both hit the floor hard.

The man gurgled, gasped. Blood sprayed Nikki’s face and colored the towels red. She scrambled up, pushing him off her, desperate to escape. It was all she could do to hold back a scream.

“Nikki.”

She whimpered. So much blood. And the man kept groaning. He wasn’t dead. How could he bleed so much and not die?

“Nikki!”

She looked up, focusing on Eddie’s face.

“Button your damn blouse,” Eddie said. “You’re at the front desk. Don’t let anyone in.”

“What do I tell—“

“Think of something.”

Nikki couldn’t think of anything but the man writhing on the floor, the blood pool under him, and the choked gurgle coming from his throat. “Eddie, I don’t—“

“You did a great job with that guy, babe. I’ve always said you’re so beautiful, no one can resist you. Now you gotta be smart, too. Can you do that?”

“No, no… I…”

“You can. You’re plenty smart, Nikki. I’ve always said that. Now, there has to be a maid’s key around here somewhere…”

He left the back room.

Nikki followed. She couldn’t do this. “But Eddie…”

“You’ll think of something. No one comes in. No one calls out. I’m counting on you.”

Risa

Risa paced across the hotel room and looked at her watch for the tenth time in the past ten minutes. Shortly after daybreak, Schneider had called to tell her he’d be right over. That was over a half hour ago. So where was he? A myriad of explanations for his tardiness pingponged through her mind. Had the police found a lead? Had they found Dryden? Or had they found another body? A body they wouldn’t dare tell her about over the phone?

Risa eyed the telephone. She couldn’t even call Trent and ask. It had been difficult for him to leave her alone. She certainly didn’t want her worry to send him racing back to her side when he needed to spend his time and energy guiding the search for Dryden.

She thought of the sheriff’s deputy standing outside the door. Deputy Perry had a radio. He might know something. She pulled the door open and peeked into the hall.

Perry’s friendly blue eyes snapped to her. His doughy face flattened in a grin. “What can I do you for, Professor?”

Faced with his confident but relaxed manner, Risa flushed. She was probably just being paranoid. But paranoid or not, she had to know. “Chief Schneider should be here by now. Have you heard if anything urgent is going on? Anything that would detain him?”

The officer shook his head and rested a hand on his radio. “Not a thing. I’ll let you know if any news comes through.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry. In a small town, little things crop up all the time, and there’s no one to handle it other than the local cop. I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Probably some damn cat stuck in a tree.”

“I thought the fire department took care of that.”

“What? Oh, yeah. Probably.” He chuckled, a friendly sound. “But if it was something serious, I would have heard about it. Okay?”

“You’re probably right. I’m just a little frazzled.”

“Understandable. Is there anything I can get you, or...? A pop from the vending machine? Candy bar?”

“No, thanks.”

“Sure? You’ve been through a lot lately from what I understand. Anything that—” The deputy stumbled forward into the door jamb. Grasping hold of the knob, he pulled the door shut.

What the—

A thump landed against the door.

“Deputy?” Risa couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She didn’t dare open the door, and yet the deputy…

Risa flipped the security lock home and peered through the peephole.

Cold, dead eyes set in a boyish face stared back at her. Ed Dryden smiled and held up a knife. A loud scrape echoed through Risa’s paralyzed mind, the blade biting into wood.

Risa jolted back.

Oh, God. Oh, god. She had to get help.

The door knob rattled.

Risa grabbed the chair nearest to the door and jammed the back under the knob. The only other furniture in the room was a bureau. She yanked at one side, but it was large and heavy and wouldn’t move.

The phone.

She grabbed the receiver. A dial tone hummed in her ear.

Please, God. Please, God.

She punched in 911.

A tone sounded, then ringing.

One ring.

Two.

The door opened, stopped only by the safety lock and chair.

The line picked up. “Sauk Trail Inn.”

A thin voice, shaky as Risa felt, and so familiar... The front desk?

“I need help. Please. I need to call 911.”

“Risa? Is that you?”

“Nikki? Where are you? Where are you? Dryden, he’s here.”

“I… I know.”

Of course, she did. She was with him. Nikki was with that monster.

The door to the hall jimmied against the chair back.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“He’s here. Trying to get into my room. He’s going to kill us, Nikki. Call 911.”

“I can’t.”

The chair legs slid, little by little.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Nikki, you can do it. Call for help. Please.”

“I helped him, Risa. I called all the hotels to find you. He just wants to talk.”

“Talk? He’s going to kill me, Nikki. He’s going to kill you. Call the police.”

The door clacked to a stop, the security lock holding. The chair tilting, but staying in place.

“No, no, you don’t understand. I can’t.”

“Then run. Just get out of here and run to the brew pub. Go.”

“No, Risa. He’ll be angry. I don’t want this, but Eddie will be so angry, and I promised, and he loves me, and…”

“Nikki? Please.”

“I can’t.”

The door closed again, but this time, something protruded between jamb and door. The plastic Do Not Disturb door hanger. Sliding between. Pushing the security lever. Opening the lock…

Risa turned and ran for the window. She tore open the drapes, fumbled with the lock, released it, slid the window open. The construction site was quiet, at least an hour yet until it came alive with workers. Two stories to the ground below. A small slanted edge of roof ran the length of the building just below the window.

Then ended, nothing but the construction site below.

Oh, God.

The lever moved clear. The door opened.

Risa found the tabs holding the screen in place. She twisted one, trying to free it. It didn’t move, painted in.

“Risa…” The door clacked against the chair.

Risa grasped the window molding and lifted herself onto the sill. Aiming a toe at the screen’s frame, she kicked as hard as she could.

One side swung free.

She kicked again, and the screen torqued, twisted, and fell. It clattered down the roof and disappeared over the edge. Risa looked down at the edge of roof four feet below. If she missed, she’d fall into the construction site. But if she stayed…

“Risa, I missed you.”

Risa jumped.

Her feet hit the roof hard, the force shuddering up her legs. Her shoes slid on dew-slick steel. She plopped down hard on her tailbone, still sliding, closer and closer to the edge.

Nothing below.

Nothing.

Risa twisted to her stomach, spreading out, clawing and grabbing at anything that might slow her momentum. The slick roof. The thin ribs that channeled rain water.

Her legs went over.

The speed of her slide slackened.

Stopped.

Risa clung to the roof, legs dangling, eavestrough digging into her stomach. Her cheek pressed against cold steel.

She had to hold on… she had to…

Risa’s pulse pounded in her ears. Her arms shook with strain. There was no way she could pull herself back onto the roof. Not without something more to hold onto. Not without help.

But the man at the window wasn’t there to help.

Risa couldn’t lift her head to see him. But she could hear him breathing. She could feel his stare.

“If only your sister could see you. Running away. Just like old times.”

“Let Nikki go.”

“Not a problem. Getting her to let me go is another story. She can’t get enough of it. Little slut. She pick that up from your example? Or did daddy teach her?”

Risa closed her eyes. “You don’t want Nikki.”

“I don’t?”

“You used her to get to me.”

“Listen to that ego.”

“So let her go.”

“Hmm. If you climb back up here, I might think about it.”

Climb up there. Sure. Not only would she have to be suicidal, Risa couldn’t pull her weight back up the roof. She was barely keeping herself from sliding off the edge.

She’d looked out at the construction site once, when she’d first visited the room. But while she remembered they were pouring concrete, adding a pool and more space to the hotel, she’d had no idea what was immediately beneath her.

Concrete?

The forms they used to pour it?

Machinery?

Whatever it was, it was going to hurt. But not nearly as much as letting Dryden reach her.

“What are you waiting for, Risa? Not willing to go that far to save your sister?”

Risa flinched.

She’d told Trent she wanted to act as bait, to lure Dryden, to trap him. But that plan was only an idea. A notion she knew Trent would fight against. This was real.

Was Dryden right? Was she only willing to save Nikki in theory? When it didn’t require real sacrifice?

“Ma’am? Hello there! Ma’am?”

A male voice. Not Dryden. Someone else. Someone on the other side of the construction site, near the street.

Risa tried to turn her head, to see who was speaking, to warn him…

She slid, closer to the edge, closer to falling…

“Police, ma’am. Hold tight. I’ll be right up.”

“You must be the luckiest thing in the world.” Dryden muttered.

Risa stretched out her fingers, clawed at the slick steel. She could feel nothingness under her legs, under her waist, she couldn’t stop, she couldn’t…

Down the roof. Inch by inch. And when her fingers were the only thing left, grasping at the eaves, slipping, she clung only long enough to see that Dryden was gone from the window.

Then she fell.

Trent

Pulse thrumming in his head, Trent drove as fast as safety would allow. He’d called the sheriff’s department and local police as soon as he’d stepped from the autopsy room. They should reach the hotel before he did. He could only pray they got there before Dryden.

Taking the last corner without slowing, he whipped the car into the hotel’s parking lot and drove straight for the entrance. Sun sparked off the cop cars barring the entrance and flanking the building. Blue and red lights flashed like flickering sparks of fire. Even before he stomped the brake pedal, he spotted the uniforms at the wide glass doors, stopping hotel residents from entering. Or leaving.

Securing a crime scene.

Trent threw the car into park, opened the door and scrambled out. Identification in hand, he raced up the shallow steps. He flashed his ID and surged inside.

Voices jangled through the lobby. Deputies corralled guests and cut off possible escape routes.

Trent glanced toward the elevators. The doors gaped open, incapacitated. He rushed for the stairs, flashing his ID again before he plunged into the stairwell. He took the steps two at a time. Panic pounded in his ears, living and raw. He had to find Risa. She had to be all right.

Reaching the third floor, he pushed the door open with shaking hands. The smell of death smeared the air. Stepping into the hall, his heart lurched.

Blood pooled around a blue-uniformed body. A flat, friendly face stared up at him, frozen in horror, blue eyes fixed in death.

Deputy Perry.

The sight hit Trent like a kick to the gut.

“Sir?”

Trent looked up at a young cop. Tall, strapping, and with shorn blond hair, he looked like a cross between a Nordic god and G.I. Joe.

“You’re Special Agent Burnell, right?”

“Yes.”

“Officer Olson. You’re looking for Risa Madsen.”

“Where is she?”

“Upstairs on the third floor. Follow me.”

Trent followed him up the stairwell and to an identical room a floor above.

Rees huddled in the corner chair, her arms wrapped around herself. Her cheeks were void of color, and she was trembling so hard he could see it from across the room.

Lake Loyal’s police chief and a tall, blond officer hovered over her.

Trent crossed the room in four strides. Bulldozing Schneider out of the way, he fell to his knees and engulfed her in his arms. He buried his face in her hair, its scent chasing away the odor of death. Dryden hadn’t gotten to her. At least not physically.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“Deputy Perry… He’s…”

“Gone.”

“She was here, Trent. Nikki was here with him. She helped him find me.”

“She told you that?”

Risa nodded. “I asked her to help. I begged her to run.”

“She’s afraid of him.”

“It’s more than that.”

Trent ran his hand over Risa’s hair. They had both seen it before. Her with patients. Him with victims. Those who rationalized away the toxic behavior of people they loved, refusing to see the truth, refusing to give up, even when it would ultimately cost them their own lives.

Risa covered her mouth with her hand. Tears broke free and slipped silently down her cheeks. She closed her eyes. A strand of chocolate hair drifted against pale skin.

Trent raised his hand to her face and brushed her hair back. In the autopsy room, Subera had brought up setting the trap for Dryden. Trent had known it was inevitable, but he hadn’t really faced it. He’d pushed the prospect from his mind in favor of other more pressing things. Other less painful options. But now…

Now Dryden was already coming after Risa. At least if she was the focus of a police operation, Trent had a better shot at protecting her.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him. He soaked in the feel of her, the scent of her. He nestled his lips in the shell of her ear. “The trap for Dryden. It’s a go.”

She pulled back from his arms and searched his eyes. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes moist. “It’s all going to work out. Right?”

“I sure hope so,” he said. Because the stakes were far too high to be wrong now.

Risa

Risa slipped into the chair between Trent and the balding county detective she’d met earlier—Mylinski—and surveyed the basement community room of St. Luke’s Church. Risa had never stepped foot in the small town church until now, but she was sure it didn’t usually look like this. In one short day, the place had been transformed into a war room with maps and pictures and diagrams lining the walls. A dozen FBI agents and sheriff’s deputies jammed around long tables pushed together, the low hum of voices constant as the drone of bees. The odors of stale coffee and stress soured the air.

At the head of the room, Special Agent Subera stood in front of a large map of southcentral Wisconsin. Colored pins and circles stabbed and stretched over several counties. He pointed to a vast area stretching from north of Wisconsin Dells nearly to Madison. “According to the last time Farrentina Hamilton was seen alive at her house, the approximate time of her death, and the time her body was discovered at Professor Madsen’s house, the victim had to have been murdered somewhere in this vicinity.”

Risa studied the circle plotted on the map. Much of the area was in the Baraboo Bluffs, a land of steep hills, deep gorges, rivers, and lakes. Tiny towns and family farms dotted the area here and there, but much of the land had been preserved as wilderness in the form of state forests and state, county, and local parks. Acres and acres where Dryden could stage his hunt and no one would hear his victim’s screams.

“The debris found on the victim’s body is consistent with this area as well,” Subera continued.

The victim’s body.

He was referring to Farrentina, but Risa couldn’t help also thinking of Deputy Perry’s soft, flat face. There was the man in Nikki’s car, too. And the driver of the garbage truck. It was impossible to know if there were others who hadn’t yet been found.

Risa rubbed her palms against her thighs.

Dryden wouldn’t claim another victim. Not if she could help it.

Special Agent Subera glanced down at one of the reports littering the table in front of him. “We have no way of knowing if he is still driving the ’95 Volvo sedan he stole from a victim’s home this morning. There have been no sightings as of yet. It is possible he has changed cars. We’ll continue monitoring reports of stolen vehicles.”

Risa felt Trent shift in the chair next to her, but she didn’t glance his way. She didn’t want to see the worry in his eyes, the tension in his every muscle. Going along with setting the trap for Dryden had been tough for Trent. Including her went against every protective instinct he had nurtured over the years. He wanted to shuttle her off somewhere. Distant but safe.

Sitting here, listening to this, she couldn’t help but wish she could let him.

Subera tapped the map with a finger. “We have roadblocks set on these highways, checking all vehicles leaving the vicinity. Sheriffs’ departments from here and surrounding counties are combing the area with helicopters and dogs.”

“It’ll take days to cover that much ground,” Mylinski said under his breath, a wave of sour apple candy scent following his words. “And with the tree cover around here? Helicopters aren’t gonna be worth much.”

Risa wasn’t sure if he expected an answer from her or Cassidy, sitting on the other side of him. But whatever he expected, she didn’t have any answers to give.

Subera continued. “In light of Dryden’s history and the pressures he’s under, we likely don’t have much time before he will kill again. And that’s where Professor Madsen comes in.”

Risa straightened in her chair. She knew the general idea of the trap they would set. Trent had given her some hints of what he was thinking, so she could prepare herself. But she had yet to hear the details.

Subera’s eyes rested on Trent. “Burnell?”

Trent looked up at the sound of his name as if he’d just snapped awake after a nightmare-plagued nap. Lines dug into his forehead and flanked his mouth. His eyes seemed more intense against the pale of his skin. “Dryden will come after Professor Madsen again. But this time we can use his aggressiveness to our advantage.”

Risa gripped her thighs under the table to keep her hands from shaking.

Trent turned to Risa. His voice lowered, as if the details of the trap were a secret just between the two of them. “We are going to set you up in a bed-and-breakfast just north of Lake Loyal. We’ve evacuated the couple who owns the place. We’ll set up a patrol so Dryden will believe we’re watching over you.”

He glanced up, his gaze scanning the agents in the room as if trying to pick out the very best ones for the job. “The more challenging the setup, the better. Dryden’s bold, and he likes thumbing his nose at authority.”

She thought of Dryden’s cold eyes peering through the peephole in the hotel room door. The sound of his voice calling her name from the window. Under the table, she dug her fingernails into her palms.

“His appearance at the hotel last night suggests he is keeping track of Professor Madsen’s location. So we need to assume we’re being watched, and be careful not to tip our hand. Once Dryden shows up—and he will—we’ll have plenty of agents and local police within striking distance.”

Cassidy let out a snort. “Sounds easy.”

“Easy and simple aren’t the same thing,” Detective Mylinski said.

Trent nodded. “We need to keep this simple. The more moving parts, the more chance something could go wrong.

Risa listened to the men.

The walls inched a little closer.

There wasn’t enough air in the room.

She had never suffered an anxiety attack before, but she knew the signs. But fear wasn’t going to keep her from doing whatever she could for Nikki. Not this time. Risa couldn’t let it.

Trent rested his hand on her arm. “You won’t be alone, Rees. An agent will be staying with you at all times.”

“I’d like to volunteer for the job.”

Risa focused on Chief Schneider, remembering the image of Deputy Perry’s flat face flecked with blood. His once twinkling eyes staring…

Her throat tightened. Her chest squeezed. “I need to talk to you, Trent.”

Trent raised a questioning brow.

She pushed her chair back and stood. “Please.”

Trent pushed his own chair back from the table and followed her up the stairs to the sanctuary.

The church itself was quiet and smelled of dusty floors and old wood. Risa turned down a hall leading to the restrooms before stopping and turning to face Trent. She felt dizzy and her legs trembled, but at least out here she could breathe.

“Are you okay?”

“I keep thinking of Deputy Perry. He was such a nice man. So concerned about me. And now he’s dead.”

“What are you getting at, Risa?”

“Let me stay in the house alone.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You can’t assign someone to watch over me again. I can’t…”

“Be responsible for another death? You won’t be. We’ll stop Dryden.”

“I know. I know.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that. I know you’ll stop him.”

“I won’t take Schneider up on his offer.”

“Thank you.”

“But I won’t leave you unprotected, either.”

“You can’t risk—“

“I’ll protect you myself.”

“You can’t…”

“Do my job?”

Risa felt sick.

Trent narrowed his eyes on her. “You like to say we’re stronger together than we are apart. You don’t really believe that, do you?”

When she’d said those words, she’d meant them. “I… I don’t know.”

“Because this time, it means a risk to my life?”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s exactly fair. Now you know how I feel. Why I never wanted to pull you into this world. Why I couldn’t marry you.”

“You’re doing this to make some kind of point?”

“I’m doing this to catch Dryden and make sure you stay alive. Do you believe we’re stronger together or not?”

Risa looked into the eyes of the man she once thought she would marry, the man she still loved. If she was capable, she would lie. But that wouldn’t change anything. Trent would never let her face this alone. And in the end, she’d regret not telling him the truth when she got the chance. “I believe it, Trent. With my whole heart.”

“Then prove it.”

Trent

Oak limbs thick and dense with leaves arched over the car, shadowing the drive from the moon’s light. Trent piloted around the curves in silence, his eyes glued to the road in front of him, his mind on the woman in the passenger seat.

Using Rees’s words against her had been a dirty trick, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant convincing her to go along with his plan. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would let her face Dryden alone.

He allowed his gaze to skate over her for a moment. Her ramrod-straight back. The way she folded her arms over her chest as if shielding herself. She hadn’t said more than two words since they’d left the church. Neither had he. There was nothing to say. Nothing to do but wait.

He breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Lavender. A calming scent. But it did nothing to loosen the tension that wound around his nerves, only added another layer to it.

If only he could turn the car around, whisk Rees far away from Dryden and FBI traps and risk. They could get lost. Someplace where neither Dryden nor the FBI could ever find them. Buy a house, raise a family—like they’d planned. Like they’d dreamed.

Impossible.

He could never turn his back on the people who needed him. He could never forget what he’d seen, what he’d felt. He’d been right to give up those dreams two years ago. And no matter how much he wished his life was different, he could never go back. He should know that by now. He should accept it.

But somehow, in the warmth of her presence, he wanted to forget everything. Wipe the last years away as if they had never happened.

The thick canopy of leaves and limbs opened into a clearing, and moonlight spilled from the sky. Set like a jewel in the center of a wide lawn stood an elegant Victorian bed-and-breakfast. Its round turret reached heavenward. Gingerbread flanked the eaves. And on the front porch, a bench swing swayed back and forth in the light breeze.

The Lilac Inn.

“It reminds me of that place on Chesapeake Bay.” Her voice descended into a whisper. “The place we were going to spend our honeymoon.”

He remembered. Too well. He’d made the reservations before he’d left for northern Wisconsin. Before he’d joined the investigation into the deaths of five young women. Before he’d ever heard the name of Ed Dryden.

Trent focused on the scene in front of him. A wide, well-groomed lawn stretched out from the house on all sides before blending into acre after acre of state forest preserve. Forest that offered seclusion so no innocent bystanders would be hurt.

The setup was perfect.

He parked the car near the front door, but didn’t move to get out. Not yet.

Next to him, Rees stared at the black outline of trees looming on the edge of the lawn and folded her arms tighter over her chest. “Do you think Dryden is out there right now?”

“I doubt it.”

“But he will be.”

“He’ll wait until he thinks we’ve relaxed our guard.”

She nodded, but she didn’t take her eyes from the blackness outside the window. “This is going to work.”

“Yes.”

“It has to.”

“It will, Risa. It will.” Trent nodded to underscore the words, and hoped he hadn’t just told them both a tragic lie.

Nikki

Nikki ground out her cigarette in a glass bowl, the butt burned all the way to the filter. It was evening again, the darkness closing in. She’d been by herself in the cabin, smoking for several hours now. She wasn’t sure how long. She couldn’t hear any sound from outside except the song of frogs along the river. Not the engine of Eddie’s car, not the thunk of his feet on the wooden steps. She supposed she should be relieved, but she couldn’t manage it.

Nikki pushed herself up from the old hide-a-bed and walked the four paces across the floor. Why couldn’t Eddie have stuck to their plan? Just hop on the interstate, drive until they couldn’t drive anymore, get lost… They would have been happy. They could have been. Nikki believed that. But now?

Now Nikki didn’t know what to do.

Risa would tell her to get out, to run, like she had at the hotel. Part of Nikki wanted to. Part of her had never been so frightened in her life. Not even the nights when her father had been drunk. Not even the nights when he’d come into her bedroom.

It had been weird hearing Risa’s voice on the hotel phone this morning. Like something from the past, back when Nikki was a different person. Ever since, she’d turned the idea of running away from her husband over and over in her mind.

She looked at the door, only a few feet away. She could open it, go down the steps, walk out into the woods, maybe follow the river until she reached a town.

Or just keep walking until she couldn’t walk anymore.

Nikki stepped to the door. She reached out, touched the knob. Over the pounding of her pulse, she heard something outside.

A car engine approaching?

The slam of a door?

Eddie?

He’d know what she’d been thinking. He’d know she doubted him. He’d be angry. What kind of wife doesn’t believe in her husband?

Did she believe?

Eddie had killed people. He’d done horrible things. Even if he had reasons for doing them, could that ever be enough?

Risa said get out. Risa said run.

But why was she listening to Risa? Why would she put any stock in what Risa wanted?

Her sister was obsessed with Eddie. She visited him, wrote about him, thought about him night and day. Nikki had seen it herself. And when Nikki had written him that first letter, Risa had gone crazy. She’d said things. Eddie was taking advantage of Nikki. Eddie could never love Nikki. Eddie was using Nikki.

As if Risa just wanted to keep Eddie all to herself.

After all, Risa always looked after herself.

There it was, the crackle of tires over gravel, the hum of an engine, the slam of a car door.

Nikki let go of the knob, and backed away. Returning to the lumpy hide-a-bed couch, she curled up on one end, tucked her feet under her, and wrapped her arms around herself.

The cabin door flew open, and Eddie bulled inside. “Get in the car. We’re going.”

“Where?”

“A place I found. It’s nicer. Closer.”

“Closer to what?”

“The FBI has invited me to a little party. And I hate to disappoint.”

“The FBI? Eddie, they want to—”

“I don’t care what they want. They’ll get what they deserve. Now, come on.”

Nikki pulled on her shoes and hurried for the door. She was still afraid. Still confused. But she knew better than to make Eddie angry.

Horrible things happened when he was angry.

Risa

Risa stood in the doorway and glanced around one of the Lilac Inn’s intimate guest rooms. White tulle draped and frothed over the canopy bed like a wedding veil. The fragrance of eucalyptus and fresh-cut lilacs laced the air. And through the open bathroom door, she could see candles surrounding a claw-footed bathtub, deep and big enough for two.

The FBI might as well have put her up in a stone dungeon complete with torture chamber. She’d have preferred that to being shut in this romantic fantasy with Trent, waiting for Dryden.

She forced her feet to cross to the window. Pulling the lace curtains aside with trembling hands, she peered through rippled glass at the row of lanterns sparkling along the driveway.

A shadowed figure strode toward the house, an obviously heavy box in hand. She’d recognize Trent’s silhouette anywhere, the sharp turn of his head as he surveyed the forest, the broad frame of his shoulders. But tonight, his normally fluid stride was tight, abrupt. His broad shoulders were slumped as if protecting a wound. Trent was in pain. She could see it as clearly as if he were cut and bleeding.

An answering ache throbbed deep inside her.

The past days had been one horror piled on top of another. Nikki’s kidnapping. Dryden’s threats. So many murders. And now the worry of Trent risking his life alongside her. But even with all that had happened, even with fear and evil hovering over her like a shroud, she could still hold on to the hope that Dryden would be caught and Nikki returned safely. And sooner or later the nightmare would end, and the sun would come up in the morning and chase away the darkness.

Trent had none of those assurances.

When this case was over, he would go on to the next gruesome serial murder. And the next. He would immerse himself in other killers’ evils, in other victims’ fears. The darkness would never let up for him. The nightmare would never end.

And the worst of it was, he would travel his dark path alone.

Risa rubbed her upper arms in a futile attempt to chase away the chill. Letting the lace curtain fall, she turned her back on the window. The sheriff’s department and FBI had the forest covered. She had to trust them. She had to trust Trent.

She had to trust herself.

The slam of the front door and thunk of his footsteps on the hardwood floor cut into her thoughts. She turned from the lace and descended to the parlor on the first floor.

Trent set the heavy file box he’d been carrying on the coffee table in front of a damask love seat. Straightening, he turned to face her and clawed a hand through his hair. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” She forced a casualness into her voice she didn’t feel. “The rooms are beautiful.”

“Yes, they are.” The glow of a hurricane lamp highlighted the hard planes of his face, sinking his eyes in shadow. Tension stiffened his shoulders and back, obvious even under his rumpled white shirt. “I have some sandwiches if you’re hungry.”

Her throat was too dry to swallow and her stomach too tense to even think about digesting. “Thanks, but I’m not.”

“Thirsty? There’s lemonade.”

“No, thanks.”

“There’s no sign of Dryden, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Risa managed a nod.

“Everyone’s in place.”

She looked down at the box on the coffee table behind him. “Dryden’s files?”

He glanced at the box. “We’re ready for him. There’s no way he’ll reach us, Risa.”

“I want to help. Going through the files.”

“These are crime files, Rees.”

She knew very well what they were. And she knew the real reason he didn’t want her to help had only partially to do with keeping the files confidential and everything to do with protecting her from the horrible images and details captured inside.

She also knew arguing about it would get her nowhere. Besides, she didn’t want to argue. “What has your life been like the past two years, Trent?”

A furrow dug between his brows. “What do you mean?”

“What do you do? In a normal day? In a normal week?”

The furrow deepened. “I work a lot.”

That much was obvious. And if Trent used the words “a lot,” she’d be willing to bet he worked nearly every waking hour. And that he didn’t sleep much. “Is that all you do?”

“I go to the gym.”

The gym, of course. Exercising had always been Trent’s way of trying to cope with stress. And from the well-sculpted biceps evident under his wrinkled sleeves, he had been trying to cope quite a bit.

“Anything else? You know, besides working and going to the gym?”

“No time for anything else.”

“Why don’t you make time?”

“For what, Rees? Needlepoint?”

“For something besides death.”

Trent blew a frustrated breath through tight lips. “What’s bothering you?”

“Me?”

“You’re picking the same fight we’ve had so many times I’ve lost track. We really are ready for Dryden. He’s not getting into this house.”

“You think I’m asking about you because I’m afraid?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Sure. Of course. But that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why are you asking?”

Risa offered an apologetic press of the lips. “Something Oneida said to me when I first met her.”

“Who?”

“The dispatcher. You know, for the Lake Loyal PD.”

“Ahh. The one who can do just about everything except make coffee. What did she say?”

“Just that people tend to get into psychological professions in order to figure out who they are.”

“I’m betting she used more colorful phrasing than that.”

“She’s right, you know.”

Trent raised his brows. “So you’re asking if I have hobbies? Doesn’t seem that would provide much insight.”

Risa shrugged. “I just wondered if you’ve given any thought to it. Or if you keep yourself busy so you don’t have to.”

“The latter. So do you know who you are?”

“Not yet. I mean, not really. But I think I’ve always been trying to figure out why my family was so toxic when I was growing up. And why I couldn’t change it.”

“Risa…”

“I don’t mean I should have been able to change my mother or my stepfather. But if I had been more generous toward Nikki when she needed me… I guess I’m trying to figure out why I wasn’t.”

“You’re trying to help her now.”

“In theory.”

“What does that mean?”

Pressure descended on Risa’s chest, making it hard to breathe.

Trent laid his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She shook her head.

“What is it?”

“You’re going to think it’s stupid, putting so much credence in the words of a psychopath.”

“Listening to him would be stupid. You know, he wants to hurt you.”

“Yeah.” The room grew blurry, and Risa did her best to blink back the surge of tears. “It only hurt because what he said was true.”

“What was it?”

“That I don’t sacrifice. Not for Nikki. Not for anyone. I never have.”

“That’s not you.”

Risa took a step away, letting Trent’s hand skim down her shoulder and fall from her arm. She couldn’t have him touching her now. Feeling sorry for her. If anyone didn’t warrant sorry, it was her.

“Risa…”

“When have I sacrificed, Trent? I could have stayed with Nikki when I was a kid. I could have protected her. Hell, I could have taken her to live with me after I moved out on my own. Our mother wouldn’t have cared. She probably wouldn’t have even noticed.”

“Risa, that’s not fair.”

“And you. You walked away to protect me from all this. What did I sacrifice? I wasn’t even able to let you go. I had to see Dryden for myself. I had to understand. God, I…”

“The blame for that isn’t yours.”

Risa didn’t know what to say. She’d spent the last two years angry with Trent for pushing her away, and now just as she was recognizing her role in their breakup, he was agreeing with her past argument? “Trent, I was wrong to focus that on you.”

“No, you weren’t.” Releasing a breath, he shook his head. “This job changes a person, Rees. It makes you look at the world in an entirely different way. It becomes who you are.”

“I understand what you’re saying Trent, but—”

“No, you don’t. And I’m doing a damn poor job of explaining.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then dropping his hand, he looked at her. “I’ll bet your stomach is tied in a big damn knot. That’s why you aren’t interested in those sandwiches downstairs, even though you’ve eaten only once in the past forty-eight hours.”

Judging from the look on Trent’s face, the question was rhetorical. Risa held her tongue and let him go on.

“And sleep? You’ve gotten about three hours since I first knocked on your door.”

Another statement she couldn’t refute.

“You can’t eat. You can’t sleep. Dryden has destroyed your piece of mind, Rees. And it can’t be fixed. You’ll never feel safe again. Even if this trap works like a charm. Even if we get Nikki back. Even if we catch Dryden. You’ll never walk up the front steps of your house without seeing Farrentina Hamilton’s body. You’ll never look through a peephole without seeing Dryden’s eyes staring back at you.”

Risa flinched at his words. He was right. Those events would haunt her the rest of her life. Even now she couldn’t imagine returning to her home. She couldn’t imagine feeling safe inside those walls again.

“And the longer you are exposed to Dryden’s brand of evil, the worse it gets. Believe me. It eats at you until every man you see looks like a killer. Until every stranger’s smile seems like a threat. You can’t enjoy anything, not a sunny day. Not a warm breeze. Not the scent of lilacs.” He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his fingers, as if trying to erase images only he could see.

An involuntary shiver claimed her.

“I never wanted that for you. This job, it has taken away all of that from me, but two years ago, you could have been spared. You could have really lived.”

“And that’s why you left.”

Trent nodded. “I couldn’t let my work destroy your life like that. And I couldn’t give up the work.”

Reaching up, Risa touched his jaw. His beard stubble rasped rough as sandpaper under her fingertips. Rough and harsh and dark.

“Then…” Risa’s voice cracked , but she refused to let herself cry. She needed to ask. It had been two years, and she still didn’t know. “What happened? The first time you came to Wisconsin? You said there was a moment. What was it?”

Trent

Trent had never told anyone. He didn’t want to talk about it now. In retrospect, the whole thing seemed trivial. Ridiculous that something so small could cause him to overhaul his life. But at the time…

At the time, it had changed everything. And Risa deserved to know. He should have told her a long time ago. “We tracked Dryden and his wife to the hunting cabin, but we were too late.”

Risa nodded.

She knew all this, of course. How they’d found him displaying her body. How he’d escaped into the forest. How they’d pursued him with dogs, and he’d given himself up. It had dominated the news, not just in the Northwoods of Wisconsin, but nationwide. However, the next part hadn’t been in the media reports, not because the FBI had held it back, but because it was so insignificant.

At least to everyone but Trent. “There were a pair of teddy bears… in the cabin.”

“Belonging to his twins?”

“Yeah. And when I saw them…” He couldn’t go on. There was no way to describe what he’d felt. How his upcoming wedding, his plans with Risa… how all of it had suddenly gone so dark.

“When you saw them, you thought of me. You thought of my collection.”

“It’s stupid. Fucking teddy bears.”

Trent expected Risa to be confused. Or maybe angry. Instead, she watched him, her expression thoughtful. “Whatever happened to those little girls?”

“I don’t know. They were adopted. Records sealed.”

“To protect them.”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t protect someone from themselves, Trent.”

She wasn’t talking about Dryden’s twins anymore, Trent knew.

“I should have told you. Should have made you understand.”

“I do now.” Risa raised her hand, placed it on his chest, over his heart.

He could feel the heat of her palm. When she smoothed her hand up and down over his shirt, he leaned into her touch.

As soon as he met her eyes, he knew he was lost, or maybe found, he wasn’t sure anymore. But Trent didn’t wait for her to tilt her face to his, to tiptoe up for a kiss. He circled her with his arms, gathered her tight, and brought his lips to hers.

He’d intended the kiss to be gentle, tender. But as his lips brushed hers, he realized he couldn’t hold back. All the years, all the regrets, none of it mattered. He ran his hand down her arm, over her shoulder, and to her sweet face, trailing his fingertips along her cheek and into the softness of her hair until he cradled the back of her head in his hand.

Trent’s life had become a lonely hell. A study in perseverance. In deprivation. And he couldn’t change it. He could never change it. But tonight… tonight he could soak in her energy, store it in his heart and use it to beat back the loneliness. Use it to fortify himself, so he could go on.

And he could only hope he could offer the same to Risa.

Her mouth opened to him, soft and pliant and real. She tasted like honey and felt as soft and comforting as a peaceful night. A night of clear skies and the twinkle of stars overhead. A night uninterrupted by nightmares.

It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to feel anything but anger and regret, the sensation was almost painful in its intensity.

And he wanted more.

Tearing his lips from hers, he grasped her hand and led her up the stairs to the guest room. She followed willingly, eagerly. Her gaze latched on to his as if she too was unable to look away.

He led her across the threshold into a room as soft and feminine as Rees herself. Lace dripped from the bed. Candles lined the nightstand. His shoes sank into the thick rug.

The scent of fresh lilacs washed over him in a wave. His stomach constricted. Memories pressed at the back of his eyes, struggling to come to the surface, but he pushed them back.

Tonight wasn’t for remembering. Not the bad, and not even the good. Tonight, he needed to be in the present. To feel everything. To fill himself.

Trent pulled her to him, and her softness molded to his body. Her warmth washed over his skin. And instead of memories of blood and obscenity gliding in the lilac scent’s wake, its sweetness merely enhanced the fragrance of her hair, her skin.

And still he wanted more.

Pulling away from her for just a moment, he pulled his 9mm from his shoulder holster and set it on the bedside table, close enough to reach. Then he unhooked his shoulder holster and shrugged out of his shirt.

Rees moved close. She ran her fingers along his collarbone, over his chest.

Trent pulled her closer and placed her arm around his neck. Running his hands down her sides and around her back, he encircled her, engulfed her, molded her body to his. Her cotton sweater rubbed his bare chest. Her heat penetrated the fabric and seeped into him like the sun’s rays after a long winter chill.

He gathered the knitted cotton in his fingers, grasped the ribbing and lifted the sweater over her head. Moving his fingers along the silk of her skin, he slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders. He released the clasp and pulled the lace and satin free.

Moonlight reached through the lace curtains and accented the perfect roundness of her bare breasts. He covered them with his hands, kneading her softness, teasing her nipples with his fingertips until they tightened into hard nubs.

A moan sounded deep in her chest. A moan of pleasure. A moan of need. Her fingers found the waistband of his slacks. Tentatively she began unbuttoning, as if she expected him to push her away. Again.

“I’m so sorry, Rees.”

She looked up at him. “Sorry?”

“For pulling away yesterday. I never should have done that to you. Not after…”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.”

“And now?” A tremor rippled through her voice.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Hesitating.”

“Kinda.”

“I don’t mean to.” He almost apologized again, but before the words left his lips, he realized how worthless another apology would be. This wasn’t the time for words. It was the moment for action.

Trent folded her hands in his, stilling her fingers. And instead of speaking, he kissed her, long and deep, then swept her up in his arms. He set her down on the bed, and when she tried to reach for his fly again, he cupped her head gently in his hands.

“My turn first.” Kissing her again, he inched her back onto the sheets.

He knelt on the bed, straddling her, a knee on either side. He kissed her slowly, savoring every nip of her lips and caress of her tongue. Then he worked his way over her jaw, down her neck, and focused on her breasts. Circling one nipple with his tongue, then the other. Suckling one, then the other. Nipping. Flicking.

“Oh,” Risa said, but he could feel the sound vibrating in her chest more than hear it.

Trent pinched one nipple with his fingers, then sucked it hard into his mouth. He could play with her breasts forever. Watching them. Sucking them. Making her arch her back for more.

But he wanted to give her more than that.

He moved lower, littering kisses over her belly, letting his breath caress her. He wanted her softness around him. Her wetness. Her heat. But he wasn’t going to rush. He wanted to move slowly. To savor. To make the moment last.

A moment they might never have again.

He was hard now. Impossibly hard and heavy. And he could feel the contours of her body brushing underneath him as he moved. Her abdomen, the hinge of her thighs, her long, long legs. Each sensation giving him a little jolt. Making him know what it meant to be alive.

Trent cradled her hips with his hands and swirled his tongue in her navel.

Risa sucked in a breath, her back arching, her breasts rising and falling.

He moved lower, over her abdomen, over her mound. He found the cleft in her thighs and flicked her with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh,” she said on a breath.

Trent moved lower. He looped his arms under her legs, spread her thighs wide, then he settled his body between them. He could smell her excitement. Her need for him. And he smiled. “I’ve missed this.”

“So have I.”

“I’ve missed you.”

“I love you, Trent. I always have.”

He knew that. He knew it, but he hadn’t let himself think of it. Not for a long time. Even now, he couldn’t think. He could only feel. He could only do.

He drew in a deep breath of her and then flicked his tongue.

A low coo rose from her chest.

She tasted just how he remembered. Warm and fresh and so erotic he thought he would lose control.

With a fat tongue, he caressed her, long and slow, one side then the other. He moved lightly at first, a mere feathering of pressure, then as his excitement built, he intensified his stroke.

Longer.

Harder.

Deeper.

Risa groaned, tilting her hips. One side, then the other, trying to capture him. Claim the pleasure. But whatever way she moved, he teased the other side. Flicking then licking. Flicking then licking. He wanted to make her want him more. He wanted to drive her out of her mind.

He wanted to hear her beg.

Trent pulled back from her, just a centimeter, maybe two. Risa was breathtaking from this angle. Her open legs, her erect nipples. He wanted to take his pleasure now. Plunge into her and thrust until he reached his peace. But that wasn’t enough for him. Not nearly enough.

Opening his mouth, he breathed heavily, directing the exhale on the center of her desire.

At first she tilted her hips toward him, straining for his mouth. Then she sat up on her elbows. “Trent?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just enjoying the view.”

She laughed, a little self-consciously, then tilted her hips toward him again.

“Well, aren’t you eager.”

“You make me that way.”

“Do you want me to lick you, Risa?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to make you come.”

“Um, yes.”

Trent knew he could make her do better than that. He knew he could torment her. Giving and withdrawing. Giving and withdrawing. Making her desperate for him. Making her writhe and beg.

But he’d done enough of that already. Enough pushing her away. Enough denying them both. They could get a call any moment. The sheriff’s department. The FBI. The sound of a window breaking downstairs.

He wasn’t going to miss this chance.

Trent licked, teased, then he ground his mouth into her, not just licking her but devouring. Hard. Deep. Putting his whole body into it. Everything he was.

A shudder worked through her body, rippling up her torso, curling through her legs. She spread her legs even wider, meeting his tongue.

Another shudder shook her. Then another.

Risa gripped the back of his head, her fingers digging into his scalp. She held him to her and moved against his mouth, his whole face, riding him. She shuddered again and called out. And when her body finally released, finally relaxed, she grasped his shoulders and pulled him up to her. “I want you, Trent. Please. I want you inside me.”

He moved up her body, his chest pressing against her breasts, his lips claiming her mouth. And when he sank deep into her, he felt as if he was coming home.

Nikki

Nikki hadn’t liked the musty, isolated cabin one bit, but it was better than this place.

It was an old two-story house, set back a little from a quiet, country road. The walls were painted lemon yellow, cheerier than the morning sun outside. The floors all hardwood and soft, patterned rugs. Artwork hung on the walls, homemade, but a step up from paint-by-number. And photographs lined the mantle. Children. Vacations. Weddings where every guest wore a happy face.

Horrible.

“You didn’t have to kill them, Eddie.”

Eddie didn’t even look at her or the dead couple he’d made her help him drag to the steps leading down to the basement. “And what was I supposed to do? Keep them around so grandma could make you cookies and grandpa could teach you to play euchre?”

“What’s euchre?”

He shot her an annoyed look, and she figured he wasn’t going to answer.

“You said something about the FBI. They aren’t coming here, are they?”

“The FBI is far too worried about your sister.”

“Risa? Is she okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. Of course, I don’t.”

“She doesn’t care about you.”

Nikki knew that. She’d suspected it since her sister had left to live with her father. And the way Risa had reacted to Nikki’s happiness at marrying Eddie had made her certain.

But hearing Eddie say it still hurt.

“I’m the only one who cares about you, Nikki. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

She managed a nod. Maybe he did care. She’d like to think so. But watching him kill these nice people… She was no longer sure he was the best thing.

Oh God, what was happening to him? To her? To everything she thought she knew?

“What is your problem?”

Nikki stepped back from the venom in his tone. “Nothing.”

“I just told you I cared. Is this any kind of way for a wife to act?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. All this… it’s just been so upsetting.”

“You’re having doubts. I can tell. You’re having doubts about us.”

“No, no Eddie.” But she was having doubts. More than doubts. Nikki felt as if she was losing her mind.

“I’ve taken care of you Nikki. I’ve loved you. All this…” He gestured at the house, the furniture, the dead bodies, as if they were the same thing. “I’ve done it for you. To provide for you.”

“I… I didn’t want you to—”

“Didn’t want me to what?”

“Kill.”

“That’s on you.”

“What?”

“I could get along just fine. But a wife needs a place to live, to call home. You expect me to stop by the local bank, Nikki? Do you want to send me back behind bars?”

Nikki shook her head.

“You need to apologize.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough, after what you’ve done to me.”

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Take off your clothes.”

“Eddie, we can talk, I’m really sorr—”

“Take your clothes off now, or I’ll cut them off.”

Tears clouded Nikki’s vision. She tried to unbutton the red silk blouse, her fingers shaking so badly she couldn’t grasp the buttons.

“You don’t do justice to that blouse, anyway. Too flat chested. Definitely not like your sister.”

A few hours ago, that would have cut her. Now she barely felt it. Eddie wasn’t who she thought he was. Not at all. He wanted her naked now to what? Humiliate her? Make love to her?

Kill her?

And there wasn’t anything Nikki could do to stop it.

“I said now.” Eddie grabbed the blouse and yanked. Buttons popped, fabric ripped, and she stood exposed from the waist up. He pulled his knife from his pocket and opened the blade. “Take off the jeans.”

She did as he said. When she was finally naked, Eddie turned away. “Go upstairs and get ready for me.”

Nikki clung to the railing, taking one step at a time, her knees barely holding her up. She’d escaped him, for a moment. But she’d made Eddie mad. Things would get worse. They always did. Her only chance was to do what he said. Try to make him happy. Hope the storm would blow over.

Nikki might not know how a loving relationship worked, but she was good at this. At least she was getting good at it. She knew what to do.

She had just taken her place on the queen size bed when Eddie burst into the room. He held long pieces of clear wire in his hands, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized they were probably speaker wires from the living room downstairs.

He didn’t say a word, just started winding the wire around her wrists and tying her to the headboard. He fastened her ankles to the footboard, her legs wide, then stood back, as if to survey his work.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Let me make it up to you.”