Bryce led her out of the room. Privacy. They needed someplace private. He didn’t want the whole hospital to hear what he was about to say.
Weaving through a maze of hallways, he negotiated his way to the rooftop deck. Sun sparkled off the two main lakes and bathed the narrow isthmus of buildings stretching between. Not far away, the capitol dome caught the sun. The golden statue on its pinnacle stabbed into a blue sky. Pleasant, if not for the cold current of wind. Wind that chilled him to the bone.
Leaning against the rail, Sylvie wrapped her arms around herself. She squinted up at him. “Okay. Talk.”
He shrugged out of his coat and attempted to drape it over her shoulders.
She held up a hand. “I don’t need your coat. I need to hear what you have to say. What you couldn’t say inside.”
“I wanted to tell you this morning, when you woke up.” He draped his coat over the rail. His chest ached with each breath. His throat pinched, the words he had to say strangling him. But he had to get them out. He had no pictures, no articles to explain it for him this time. “Yesterday you asked about Dryden’s lawyer.”
Her eyebrows pulled together. “What about him?”
“I am Dryden’s lawyer, Sylvie. Or at least, I was until about six weeks ago.”
She didn’t move, didn’t gasp, nothing. She just stared at him with steady eyes, waiting for him to explain.
“When the lawsuits against the Supermax prison started a few years ago, I decided to get in on it. Thought it would give the law firm some press, bring in more clients.”
“But Dryden? Why Dryden?”
“Because he would bring the big headlines.” The picture he was painting for her made him feel sick, but he couldn’t stop. It was the truth. He had been that man, chasing notoriety, playing with the law like it was a game. So wrapped up in his own greed and ambition that he couldn’t see anything else.
“And this is what you wanted to tell me?”
“No. I mean, yes, but it’s not everything.”
She hugged herself tighter. “What else?”
“I won the suit against the Supermax. I got Dryden transferred to another facility. One with less restrictive conditions, less solitary confinement. But that wasn’t enough for him.”
“What did he want?”
Bryce looked out at the skyline, at the blue curves of the lakes. He’d gotten Dryden nearly everything he’d asked for, everything the monster didn’t deserve. “He wasn’t happy with Banesbridge. Most of the prison has been renovated since he escaped in 1996. And what wasn’t is under renovation now. Security has been improved.”
“And he wanted someplace less secure.”
Bryce nodded. He remembered the grin on Dryden’s thin lips when he’d made his demand clear. “When I refused to go along, he threatened me.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.” And he’d never forgive himself for it. “I underestimated him. He was in prison. He couldn’t get out. He couldn’t hurt me from behind bars.”
Sylvie’s throat moved under tender skin, as if she was struggling to swallow all he’d told her, trying to prepare for what came next. “Your brother…”
“The whole thing was my damn fault.” He waited for that look he dreaded. One of disgust. Horror. Condemnation. The one he’d seen in the mirror every morning for the past six weeks.
It never came. Instead she stepped close and put her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Bryce. I’m so sorry.”
Pain pressed behind his eyes and knifed through his sinuses. He’d expected a lot of things, but not this. As much as he thought of Sylvie, as much as he cared about her, he’d underestimated her.
He loved her.
And now… now that he’d found her, he was on the brink of losing her. “Don’t do this, Sylvie. Please. Promise you’ll stay away from him.”
Tears spiked her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. “I know how awful this must be for you, Bryce. I understand now.”
His throat closed. He knew where she was leading before she said the words. He knew her decision would scar her forever. And if he lost her because of it, it would destroy him.
“But I need you to understand me, too.”
Sylvie
Sylvie shifted in her chair. Crossing and uncrossing her legs, she finally settled on crossing her ankles, knees pressed tightly together.
She’d never been inside the walls of a prison before. And even though she was in the main building, far from the cell blocks, she already knew she never wanted to come to a place like this again. She didn’t mind the Spartan room, furnished with only a scarred table and four chairs, one bolted to the floor. She didn’t mind the antiseptic smell. She didn’t even mind the dour-faced guards.
What she hated was the sound of doors locking behind them as they passed through the sally ports. And that no matter how deeply she inhaled, she couldn’t seem to breathe.
She glanced at the camera in the corner of the room. Bryce was watching through that camera, along with Val Ryker, Detective Perreth, Professor Bertram, and others Sylvie didn’t know. Bryce had insisted on coming with her, a demand that made her want to cry. She knew this was hell for him, seeing the man he thought responsible for killing his brother. The fact that he’d stuck by her, even through this, made her heart squeeze. She only hoped it wasn’t all in vain, that she could coax something of value from Ed Dryden, something that would lead to finding Diana.
The door opened. Two uniformed guards stepped into the room, and between them, hands and feet shackled, shuffled Ed Dryden.
He looked much like his photograph, only older. Brown hair now silver, he appeared as if he should be wearing a nice suit or a relaxed weekend baseball shirt, not the baggy prison jumpsuit. Although he was clearly in his fifties, the boyish quality she’d noticed in his photograph was still there. The slightly weak slant to his chin, the disarming arch to his eyebrows—all of it conspired to make him appear more like the nice next-door neighbor than an infamous killer. He raised his eyes to hers.
His eyes were like his picture too. Ice blue. And void of emotion.
She suppressed a shiver.
The corners of thin lips lifted in a smile. “Sylvie. You’re as beautiful as your sister.”
“I want to talk to you about Diana,” Sylvie said in a thankfully steady voice.
So far, so good.
He lowered himself into the chair.
The guards handcuffed his hands to the steel rails. One gave her a pointed look. “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to stay in here with you?”
Of course, she did. Better yet, she wanted Bryce and everyone else in here as well, not merely watching from the next room. “I’ll be fine.”
“Of course you will be,” Dryden said, voice low and melodic. “I’m no animal, despite what they imply with their handcuffs and chains. I’m well read, civilized. I know how to treat a lady.”
Sylvie resisted the urge to look at the camera. Only she could do this now. And no one could help her.
She folded her hands in her lap, picking at her fingernails. “I’m not sure how to ask this.”
“I’ve found the direct approach is best.”
Right. And she’d be willing to bet Dryden was as direct as a crazy straw. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
He smiled, thin lips pulling back to reveal straight white teeth. She caught a whiff of mint mouthwash, as if he’d gargled just for her.
“My sister has disappeared.”
His smile faded. “When?”
“Saturday afternoon. Someone kidnapped her from her wedding. Do you know where she is?”