Edge of Darkness

by Karen Rose

  “Yes, we do,” Dianne said.

  Trip rose, giving the creaky chair a backward glance of relief. “I’d like to check it before we leave.”

  “Please come with me,” Dianne said. “I’ll show you.”

  Candace exhaled wearily as Trip left the room with her sister. “We’ve been talking about getting a dog. Penny loves that idea, as you might imagine.”

  “That was my next recommendation. I have the perfect place for you to go for a dog.” Adam wrote Delores’s contact information on the back of his card. “This woman is a dog whisperer. Many of my friends have adopted dogs from her shelter. Give her a call.”

  Candace smiled back, the first true smile she’d shown since he and Trip had arrived. “I just might do that.”

  “Good. My cell’s on there, too. And my e-mail. If you could send me the photos you took of those license plates, we’d appreciate it.”

  “I will. Please, tell Dr. Fallon how sorry I am next time you see her.”

  “Absolutely.” He hoped his expression remained professional because, inside, the memory of those few minutes against her refrigerator were hitting him hard. “I’ll make sure she knows.” Because he planned to see Dr. Fallon very, very soon.

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Saturday, December 19, 10:15 p.m.

  “Meredith? You okay in there?”

  Meredith sighed at the bathroom door and sank a little deeper into the tub. She’d had twenty minutes of quiet privacy, the most she’d had all day long. This time it was her friend FBI Special Agent Kate Coppola, who was likely armed with several guns and at least one pair of knitting needles. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “I thought I heard you talking to yourself.”

  Meredith rolled her eyes. “If you wanted to know who I was talking to on the phone, you could have just asked.”

  “Sorry,” Kate said sheepishly. “I didn’t want to seem nosy.”

  “That train’s already left the station.” It was nice to have people worried about her, but it was exhausting, too. “I was talking to my cousin Alex in Atlanta. Bailey called her and got her all twitterpated. Alex and her husband were going to drop everything and drive here tonight, but I told her that I had plenty of bodyguards and they should leave on Monday like they’d planned.” Because, like Papa, Alex never let her spend Christmas alone. It was Meredith’s trigger holiday and her family knew it passed more easily when she was surrounded by their support.

  “Yeah . . .” More sheepishness. “It was pretty crowded downstairs. I can go.”

  “Oh, stop,” Meredith said fondly. “You know I don’t want you to go. But I am surprised. I thought you had plans with Decker. I didn’t think you were coming today.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to, but . . .” Kate’s self-conscious laugh came through the door. “I needed to be sure you were all right. I’ve stayed away for hours, but I couldn’t sleep and . . .”

  Meredith had to smile. For all her badassery, Kate was a softie who mothered almost as much as Meredith did. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. I’ve got to rinse my hair.” Because she’d washed it again. It had smelled like the shampoo at the hotel where she’d washed away the remnants of . . . She swallowed, pushing the memory away. She had to stop remembering the shot that had destroyed the young man’s head. She’d drive herself crazy.

  She’d had to take her antianxiety meds twice today. They’d helped, but she didn’t want to take any more. Shampooing her hair would let her smell familiar scents. Calming scents. She hoped.

  A few minutes later she found Kate sitting in the armchair in the corner of her bedroom, knitting needles clacking rhythmically as a big old dog rested at her feet. “Hey, Cap,” Meredith crooned, stooping to pet the dog’s white muzzle. “How’s he doing?”

  “Really well.” Kate gave the dog a fond look. “We had a scare last week, but it was just a little infection. A round of antibiotics and he seems good as new. The vet says he’s got a few years left. Decker and I want to make them good years.” She and her fiancé had adopted the oldest dog in Delores’s shelter because the dog had been passed over so many times. “He’s a good dog and he hasn’t eaten a single shoe.” She pretended to scowl. “Unlike Loki. I swear . . .”

  Chuckling, Meredith sat on the floor and petted Cap’s head when he put it in her lap with a huff of pleasure. “Puppies are hard work. Delores told you that.”

  “I know. Decker’s doing most of the training and he’s loving it. Don’t get him started talking about obedience class. You’d think Loki had just graduated from Harvard or something.” But she was smiling. And then she wasn’t, sobering abruptly. “I stopped by Mariposa before I came here.”

  Meredith sighed. “How is Mallory?”

  Kate shrugged. “Sitting and staring straight ahead. I don’t know what to do for her.”

  “For now, we just love her.”

  “I know, but I don’t know how to do that. I was going to stand guard there, but between Colby and Stone, they have things sorted. Nobody needed me. Mallory wouldn’t even say hi to me.”

  “She had a horrible shock today. Try not to take it personally. She loves you, you know that.” Because the monster who’d held Mallory captive for six long years had tried to kill her when she’d finally escaped, putting her in the hospital with a concussion and a badly broken leg. Meredith and Kate had held her hand in the hospital and had been her first protectors as she’d transitioned into the real world. “She may just need space.”

  Kate winced guiltily. “Like you do. Like I’m not giving you. Decker told me not to come. That you’d be overrun with people.”

  Meredith patted her friend’s knee. “I was earlier, but I think everyone’s planning on going home soon except for Kendra and maybe Diesel. And my grandfather, of course.”

  “I met him. He’s pretty . . . well, like no grandpa I’ve ever met.”

  Meredith chuckled. “That’s the truth. How long can you stay?”

  “Depends. How much ice cream you got in your freezer?” She smiled proudly when Meredith laughed. “Seriously, how long do you need me to stay?”

  “Depends. You think you can convince Kendra to go home?”

  Kate put down her knitting. “Why? What did she do?”

  “Nothing yet.” Meredith focused on petting Cap’s soft coat. “Adam may come by later and I don’t want Kenny to make things awkward.”

  “Oh. Well.” The clacking resumed. “Why is Adam coming by?”

  Meredith fought the urge to press her fingers to her lips. They still tingled from that kiss. Hell, her entire body still tingled from that kiss. “He’s going to explain some things.”

  Kate grunted. “That sounds ominous.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh?” Kate’s voice became slyly smug. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

  Meredith laughed again. “Now I feel like we’re at one of Hope’s slumber parties.”

  “I’ll paint your toenails if you tell me everything.”

  Cap rolled to his back and Meredith scratched his belly. “Not yet, okay?”

  Again the clacking stopped, but this time Kate gently lifted Meredith’s chin. “I’m just teasing you. You tell me when you’re good and ready. I’ll always be here to listen. Hell, you listen to me spout off often enough. Somebody needs to be your confidante.”

  Meredith’s eyes pricked with tears. “I’m not sure what’s happening, but I am a little scared to hear what he has to say.” She swallowed, uncomfortable with sharing what little she knew of Adam’s secrets, but needing to talk to someone. “He’s stayed away from me for months.”

  “I know.” Kate’s thumb stroked her cheek just like Meredith’s mother used to do. “We all know. None of us knows why, though.”

  “Something’s wrong.” Meredith drew a breath, straightened her spine. “Did you know he’s been
sneaking into Delores’s shelter to clean cages?”

  Kate blinked. “Really? No, I didn’t know that. Huh. But I don’t really know him that well. We’ve only worked together a few times. I know he’s a good cop and I know he’s had some issues in the past.”

  “He also spends hours at Mariposa every week. But never when I’m there. He goes out of his way not to be in any space where I am.”

  Kate winced. “That’s . . . not promising, hon. Gotta say.”

  “Maybe? That’s just it. That’s what I thought, but tonight he said I thought wrong. So I stepped back and tried to look at it from another direction. I made a few calls and found out he not only volunteers at Mariposa and Delores’s, but he routinely works at Dani’s clinic and does repairs at Father Trace’s shelter. He even assistant coaches a pee wee team that has deaf kids from all over the county. I got that from Faith. Adam spends every free minute helping other people. Plus his actual job.”

  “Huh,” Kate said again. “It’s almost like he’s trying to atone for something.”

  “I thought the same thing.”

  “Did Dani have any insight? They grew up together, right?”

  “Yeah. Dani said she knew he was fighting demons, but she’d never been able to get him to tell her specifics. I even called Deacon.”

  “He’d know better than anyone. They’re besties, right?”

  “Well, if he knows, he’s not saying. Which I can respect. But I don’t think he knew either.” Meredith suspected she might be the only one who knew the particular nightmare that haunted Adam, the devastating murder of a child that he’d been unable to stop. But even Meredith didn’t know all the details. She only knew that there had been a lot of blood. And that he’d witnessed it happen.

  So much blood. He’d said it over and over the night he’d fallen apart in her arms, more than a year ago now. She’d expected him to cry, but he hadn’t shed a single tear.

  She wondered if he’d managed to do so since.

  She glanced at her bed. They’d ended up there that night. Nothing had ever been the same after that. Not for me.

  She’d assumed it hadn’t meant anything to him, but now . . . She gave in to the urge and pressed her fingertips to her lips. That . . . in the kitchen tonight? That was not a pity kiss. She’d had pity kisses before and that was definitely not one.

  “Mer?” Kate said softly.

  Meredith looked up with a jerk. “Um . . . sorry. Did you say something?”

  “Just your name. Have the two of you . . . Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Meredith smiled ruefully. “Not particularly. But . . .” She sighed. “Yes. Once. A year ago. I thought we had something. But he’s shut me out ever since.”

  “And he’s coming by tonight to let you in?”

  You may still throw me out when I’m done, he’d said. What the hell did that mean?

  “Maybe. Sounded like it.”

  “Then I’ll ensure Kendra is properly occupied, because she doesn’t trust him at all.”

  No, Kendra didn’t. “Thanks, Kate.”

  “My pleasure.” She gathered her knitting and shoved it in a bag with kittens printed on the side. “Now, we were discussing ice cream earlier.”

  “It’s freezing outside,” Meredith said. “You really want ice cream?”

  “Kenny said she brought you some. Are you holding out on me, Dr. Fallon?”

  “Never.” Meredith gave the dog a final pat, then rose. “Let’s go eat ice cream. And gingerbread men. And I think there’s some pumpkin pie left. We can find a movie and open a bottle of red.”

  “Now you’re talking. Come on, Cap.”

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Saturday, December 19, 11:15 p.m.

  He turned onto the street where Andy Gold had rented a basement apartment, pleased that most of the houses were already dark. It was a Saturday night, but this neighborhood was mostly populated with either old people or families with small kids who had bedtimes. There was nobody out to notice—and, importantly, to remember him.

  He was actually shocked that no one had identified Andy Gold yet. The kid’s picture had been online for hours, clear as day. Gold had a job and went to classes, so somebody was going to know who he was.

  He’d planned to have Butch eliminate all trace of Andy Gold, including photos or notes or anything that would lead the cops to Linnea Holmes—but nothing had gone right today. Butch was in Chicago tracking Shane Baird, and this couldn’t wait until he got back.

  So I’m going to have to deal with Andy Gold’s belongings myself.

  At least he had the cover of darkness. He wouldn’t dream of conducting an op like this in the daylight. He parked on the next street over from Andy’s basement apartment and checked the contents of his backpack.

  Glass cutters, a fuse, matches, and two jars of a jellied mix of gasoline and soap powder—easy to make and very flammable. He grabbed the large gas can from the backseat, made sure his ski mask was completely covering his face, and made his way into the shadows, moving from the house nearest his SUV, through the backyard, over the four-foot chain-link fence, and up to the rear of Andy’s house.

  Cutting the glass from the window of Andy’s basement apartment, he removed the lids from the jars of homemade napalm and tossed the jars through the window. He then threw one end of the fuse through the window, landing it in the sticky mess and dragging it through until the fuse became submerged. He poured the contents of the gas can on the ground along the back of the house, then lit the fuse and hightailed it out of there.

  By the time he reached his car, he could already see the blaze flickering through the basement windows. He’d be safely away before the smoke detectors in the house went off.

  Hopefully the residents of the home’s upper floors were light sleepers. They’d still be able to get out in plenty of time to call the fire department and most of their house would be saved. He didn’t need to burn the whole house down, just Andy’s portion of it. By the time the first fire truck arrived, the basement apartment would be no more.

  Once he’d left the neighborhood, he pulled into an alleyway, once again changing the plates on the SUV. Just in case one of the neighbors had a security camera. He removed the ski mask and bagged it and the coat he was wearing.

  He’d made it to his driveway when his business cell rang with a number that was vaguely familiar. “Yeah?” he barked, pitching his voice lower than normal.

  “You sonofabitch,” a man snarled.

  So it would be one of those calls. He activated the voice-changing app he’d installed on his phone, making his voice instantly gravelly and unidentifiable as his own. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Voss, and you’re a fucking asshole. I paid you what you asked.”

  Voss. He wanted to sigh. The last thing he needed tonight was the pathetic whining of an arrogant prick. “Yes, you did. And I’ve honored my end of the agreement.”

  “No, you didn’t, because the cops were at my bitch sister-in-law’s house tonight, talking to my wife.”

  He blinked, caught unaware. “Why would they be talking to your wife at your sister-in-law’s house?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you! And now there are unmarked cars sitting outside my front gate! Cops outside my house!”

  “Okay, calm down. We have not told a soul. Let’s figure this out. Okay?”

  “I’ll drag you down with me. I’ll bury you. I swear it.”

  “Calm down. First, how do you know cops talked to your wife?”

  “Because I have someone watching the bitch’s house. I know when she arrives and when she leaves and I know where my kid is. All the time. My man saw them. One was black and big as a tank. Easily six-six. The other guy was six-two, black hair, wore a black wool coat. They showed badges to my sister-in-law. They stayed for over thirty minutes.”

&nb
sp; Voss’s wife had left him, then. It made no difference financially because it wasn’t his wife that Voss was afraid of. It was his potential electorate. That his wife has left him might look bad. Depending on the reason she’d left. But first things first.

  “What would your wife be able to tell them?” A long silence followed that started to piss him off. “Voss? What would your wife know that would be damaging to you?”

  “That my kid saw one of the girls at the house.” It was a grudging admission.

  And a detail that had never come up in their negotiations. You had hookers in your house when your kid was home? Voss had no fucking sense.

  “So your wife has left you?” And taken your child? Good for her. He’d never let his own kids see the underbelly of his business. Voss’s kid was six, for Christ’s sake. “When?”

  “Three months ago, but she’ll be back,” Voss said, sounding like a petulant child. “She’ll beg me to take her back when her money runs out.”

  It was possible, of course. It was also possible the wife was holding out for a settlement of her own. He needed to know what exactly Mrs. Voss knew. “If your wife was aware of your indiscretions, why did you continue paying me to keep your secret?” he asked mildly.

  “She doesn’t know about the parties. She thinks it was just one hooker, one time. And she doesn’t have pictures,” Voss added bitterly.

  It was a fair point. He had more than just pictures of Voss with more than just one slightly underage hooker. He had video and photos that Voss knew nothing about, video and photos that he’d reveal to Voss when the man announced a bid for the state senate seat he’d been not-so-surreptitiously ogling. Keeping those images from the media would be worth far more to Voss—and to me—than the comparatively tame party photos he was paying to keep secret now.