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.”