She nodded. “On the dog. That’s how they knew.”
“So they have my DNA.”
“No. They have some vigilante’s DNA.”
He saw what she meant. “Of course. They don’t know it’s mine. Because they don’t have a sample of mine to match it.”
“But I do.”
He watched as she poked into her purse. Came up with a small plastic bag. From where he sat, it looked empty. She looked at him and smiled.
“And now you can have it back,” she said, tossing it onto the coffee table.
He picked up bag. Held it up to the light.
Saw the fingernail clippings.
It took him a few seconds to get it.
She laughed. “Close your mouth. You look like an idiot.”
He stared at her, feeling numb. “You could have handed them my ass.”
She was still grinning. “True. And for a while there, I wanted to.” The grin faded. “Oh, how I wanted to. I was furious. You told me so many lies, from the beginning. You were lying to me even then, about the dog bite.”
He had to swallow hard. “Okay. So why didn’t you?”
She suddenly looked as if she were about to cry again. “You really are an idiot.”
He put the bag down on the table. Got up and moved to sit beside her on the sofa. Put his arm around her shoulders. She turned and pressed her face into his chest. He rested his cheek against her hair.
“Yes I am,” he said, holding her tightly.
After a while, she turned her face up to him. This time, the color of her eyes reminded him of steel.
“No more lies,” she said.
He nodded. “No more lies.”
*
They sat that way another moment. Just holding each other in silence. Restoring trust. Reconnecting.
A faint high-pitched tone broke the spell.
She straightened. “My cell.”
“Let it go.”
She put her hand on his cheek. “My father was in a bad way tonight.” She didn’t add: And I’m here with you, not him.
He kissed her fingertips. “I understand.”
She pulled it out and flipped it open. “Hello?”
Then looked surprised. “Oh. Susie! Hi. I was expecting-” She stopped, listened. Then looked concerned. “Right now?” She looked at Hunter. “I don’t know, I’m-” She listened some more. “Yes…no, not too long, maybe half an hour…I will… Sure, just hold on tight, girlfriend. Bye.”
She closed the phone. “That was Susie. She was in tears, really sobbing. She said something terrible has happened, and she needs me to come right away.” She stopped. “Dylan, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to leave you, not now, not tonight. It’s just-”
“Don’t be silly. I think we’re fine, now. You should go to her. In fact, maybe I should come, too.”
She shook her head. “No, let me see what this is all about first. If I need some help, I’ll call you, okay?”
“All right.”
He followed her to the door, helped her on with the long fox fur coat she’d left on a chair. He rested his hand on her shoulder as she buttoned the coat over her pale yellow evening gown.
“You’re not exactly dressed for an emergency,” he teased.
She smiled. Then they kissed. Clung to each other tightly, neither wanting to let go.
“We’re going to get through this, Annie Woods,” he whispered.
He saw that she remembered. This time, her eyes shone.
“Yes, we will.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Tysons Corner, Virginia
Wednesday, December 24, 11:53 p.m.
Because it was Christmas Eve, traffic was almost nonexistent. Though snow had been falling for hours, leaving several inches on the ground, the plows and salt trucks had kept the main roads clear. So she made good time getting over to the Capital Beltway, then great time on it, heading south.
She got off on the Georgetown Pike, headed west about a minute, then south a couple of miles into the tangle of residential neighborhoods north of Tysons Corner.
Susie’s house was in a tony cul-de-sac. Expensive homes, their faces, yards, and trees blazing with Christmas lights, surrounded the circle at the end of the street, their driveways spreading out from it like spokes from a wheel hub. A solitary car was parked in the circle-an old white Chrysler that looked out of place. Probably some college kid home for the holidays.
The exception to the seasonal cheer was Susie’s house. It was completely undecorated, and from outside it barely seemed inhabited. Pulling into her drive, she saw that the first-floor curtains were drawn. The foyer inside was lit, but the front door light wasn’t on.
Strange. She knows I’m coming.
She’s starting to act like a recluse. Must be a delayed reaction to Arthur’s suicide. I’ll have to help her through this…
She parked, then got out and headed for the front door, not even bothering to lock the car. No risk of auto theft in this neighborhood, especially on Christmas Eve. The drive and sidewalk were heated and free of snow and ice-a blessing for a lady in heels. At the door, she saw the reason for the darkness outside: There was no bulb in the socket above the entrance.
Damn. She’s really letting things slide.
She was about to ring the bell when she noticed a scrawled note taped to the door. She leaned forward to read the block letters in the glow from the neighborhood lights.
IT’S OPEN
I’M IN THE BASEMENT
Must be serious for her not to greet me at the door.
Entering, she paused just inside. “Susie… It’s me, Annie.”
No response. She heard only faint classical music. It sounded as if it were coming from the den.
Probably can’t hear me down there with the stereo going.
Closing the door behind her, she unbuttoned her fur coat. Then walked toward the door at the head of the stairs that led down to her den. It was ajar only a dark sliver. As she approached, the symphonic strains from downstairs sounded louder.
She put her hand on the knob and opened it onto the dark silhouette of a huge man at the top of the stairs. She had almost no time to react as he grabbed for her. She instinctively jerked up her arms to protect herself, taking a step back. The giant charged her, grabbing the lapels of her coat, stepping into the light and revealing his face.
Wulfe.
The shock was almost paralyzing.
Almost. Her training kicked in and she spun as he bore in, drawing him toward her even faster, pulling him off-balance so that she could put him down and begin the strikes.
But with surprising agility he countered, hooking his long left leg around both of hers even as he fell, dragging her with him to the floor. She broke her fall with her arms to prevent her face from smashing into the marble surface.
They were prone, now, side by side, with his heavy left leg pinning both of hers inside the long gown. He grabbed the back of her coat so that she couldn’t get up or roll away. In response, she whipped her right elbow down, aiming for the bridge of his nose. But he jerked his head back just enough so that the blow grazed his cheek and struck his collarbone instead.
He grunted in pain. Enraged, he released his left hand from her coat and seized the back of her hair. He jerked it toward him, causing her to cry out, and he simultaneously wrapped his left leg around her thighs, rolling her into him and onto her side.
Her hair in his grip, her legs trapped, she flailed wildly with both hands, reaching blindly behind her for his face and eyes. But suddenly she felt his right arm shoot forward just over her shoulder, then circle back around her exposed neck.
With her throat in the crook of his elbow, he bore down with his huge forearm and bicep in a pincer against the sides of her neck.
She had scant seconds to think: Sleeper hold…he’s an expert. Then her energy faded and everything went fuzzy, then dark…
Bethesda, Maryland
Wednesday, December 24, 11:53 p.m.