“I can access only so much. That’s why I called it a favor, moron.”
Torrance stifled a belch. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”
They ate in silence for a moment.
“So how’s the investigation into the St. Clair murder going?” Jerry asked. “Any juicy details you can share with me?”
“You fishing for inside info?”
“Always.”
Torrance wiped his mouth with a paper napkin before speaking. “You know she was killed before she was dumped in the water, right?” His voice was low.
“I heard she was stabbed a bunch of times.”
“Forty, to be exact.” Torrance glanced around. “But according to the autopsy results, she was actually dead before that. The fucker sliced her throat, cut her carotid. She likely bled out in three, four minutes. You won’t see this in the paper. Not until we catch the guy.”
“So the stabbing was postmortem. That’s a lot of rage.”
“Oh, yeah.” Torrance nodded, sipping his tea. “Somebody hated her. Or loved her.”
“Or both,” Jerry said.
CHAPTER 31
“I ’m starving,” Sheila said when Ethan entered the room.
And she was. She’d spent the entire day watching chick movies on the WE channel- Pretty Woman was on now-and she hadn’t seen Ethan since early that morning. Her stomach growled as if to punctuate her words.
Ethan reached into his satchel and pulled out a plastic bag knotted at one end. He tossed it to her on the bed, where she caught it with both hands. She peeked inside. Half a roast beef sub on whole wheat, hold the mayo. Good.
“Six inches enough?” he said.
She gave an impish grin. “Usually. But it depends on what the guy does with it.”
Her joke brought a small smile to his face. Reaching into his bag again, he tossed her a bottle of Diet Coke. It landed in front of her on the crumpled blanket. She almost couldn’t remember what it felt like to eat a proper meal at a table.
“Did you eat?” She muted the television and sat cross-legged on the mattress. She twisted the plastic cap on the soda and it hissed. Still sealed. He was no longer drugging her.
“Not hungry.”
“Want half my sub?”
“I would think three inches would be supremely unsatisfying,” he said, and she laughed because she was supposed to.
He was still a monster, and she was still kidnapped, but she was making progress, and she wasn’t about to do or say anything to change that. Things had improved significantly over the last few days and she didn’t want it to regress. She had free rein of the basement, no more chains, no more handcuffs. She was allowed to use the toilet by herself and take a shower. Ethan had even brought her a few books to read-romance novels, not her thing, but better than nothing-and they were on the nightstand.
It was bearable. But she still had a lot of work to do.
He slumped on the leather sofa, seeming completely out of energy. His eyes were lost inside the dark circles surrounding them, and he hadn’t shaved in days. She watched as he stifled a yawn.
She took a bite of the sandwich. He’d remembered to ask for extra cucumbers and green peppers this time. “Yummy,” she said. “Thank you. Let me know if you want some.”
She had learned it was better to pretend things were normal, that she wasn’t being held against her will, if she wanted things to stay smooth between them. Ethan was still wary, but he was more engaged and more willing to talk. The gun still had a home in the waistband of his jeans, but he no longer kept his hand constantly poised over the butt to remind her of it. Getting it away from him entirely was her next goal.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said.
“A surprise?” She feigned curiosity, though her stomach tightened at the word. She put her sandwich down and wiped her mouth with shaky hands. The last surprise had been a necklace belonging to a dead girl and a wall full of dismembered corpses. Ethan reached into his satchel again and his demeanor perked slightly. He pulled out several items, reciting the names of each as he laid them neatly on the cushion of the leather couch. “Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, moisturizer, facial soap, body lotion, shower puff, toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant. Even got you dental floss and lip balm.” He glanced up at her. “You like Aveda products, right?”
Sheila almost choked on the last bit of food still in her mouth. “They’re all I use.”
“Good. I also brought you some antibiotic cream for your wrists and ankles, and, uh, some pads.” He dug into his bag again. Indeed, he’d bought her a travel pack of Stayfree maxi pads. “I couldn’t remember when your time of the month was, but I figured it was coming at some point.”
“Thank you.” She stared at the items, her voice faint. “That’s very thoughtful, Ethan. I appreciate it.” No way was he going to kill her. He wouldn’t buy her all this stuff and then kill her, right? Something had changed. The question was, what?
“You’re welcome. I know you’ve been showering with bar soap, but Abby always says that stuff is drying if you wash your hair with it.”
Abby. It was the first time he’d mentioned his girlfriend since Sheila had been here. Were they even still together?
She pointed to an unfamiliar blue-and-white tube. “What’s that?”
Ethan held it up. “Diaper rash cream. I noticed before that you’re pretty red… down there.” His face had a funny expression. Embarrassment? Another first.
There was also a change of clothes-two pairs of Puget Sound State University sweatpants, two T-shirts, and a sweatshirt, all brand-new, tags still on. A few pairs of cotton bikini panties. Socks. For a kidnapper, he was being quite considerate.
Her mind reeled as she tried to make sense of it. He was showing kindness? Now? What did that mean?
“Thank you,” she said again. The roast beef sub lay half-eaten on her lap and she pushed it away, appetite gone.
Ethan settled back into the sofa and nodded toward the TV. Julia Roberts was laughing at something Richard Gere had just said. “Turn up the volume, will you?”
An hour later he was snoring, splayed out on the couch with his arms up over his head and his mouth hanging open. She hadn’t noticed exactly when he’d nodded off, but a loud snort had gotten her attention. When she glanced away from the television to look at him, she was shocked to see him passed out.
She was wearing her new clothes. There was no reason for Ethan to have bought her all these things unless she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Whatever his plans had been, they had obviously changed. When she’d first arrived, she was chained and in diapers. He’d told her he was going to kill her. Now a neatly folded stack of clean clothes was beside her, with a month’s worth of toiletries in the bathroom.
As if she was going to be here awhile.
She watched him from the bed. His body was relaxed and unmoving, his nostrils flaring in and out in rhythm with his snoring. The butt of the gun poked out about three inches from the top of his jeans, covered slightly by his T-shirt, which had pulled up to reveal the brown patch of hair that trailed from his belly button to his crotch.
Her captor was asleep.
Her mind flooded with possibilities.
If she was jackrabbit quick, she could have the gun out and pointed at him before he was fully awake. She could keep it trained at his head, as he’d done with her so many times, and she could make him tell her what the code was to get out of this room. With a gun to his temple, surely he’d give it to her.
But what if he refused? Sheila frowned. Of course he’d refuse. Should she shoot him in the leg? The arm? Leave him immobilized on the sofa, writhing in pain? He’d have to tell her then, wouldn’t he?
She swung her legs silently over the edge of the bed, her mind made up, then stopped as another thought occurred to her.