Lethal (Small Town Secrets Book 1)

by Ann Voss Peterson

  Sitting here, listening to this, she couldn’t help but wish she could let him.

  Subera tapped the map with a finger. “We have roadblocks set on these highways, checking all vehicles leaving the vicinity. Sheriffs’ departments from here and surrounding counties are combing the area with helicopters and dogs.”

  “It’ll take days to cover that much ground,” Mylinski said under his breath, a wave of sour apple candy scent following his words. “And with the tree cover around here? Helicopters aren’t gonna be worth much.”

  Risa wasn’t sure if he expected an answer from her or Cassidy, sitting on the other side of him. But whatever he expected, she didn’t have any answers to give.

  Subera continued. “In light of Dryden’s history and the pressures he’s under, we likely don’t have much time before he will kill again. And that’s where Professor Madsen comes in.”

  Risa straightened in her chair. She knew the general idea of the trap they would set. Trent had given her some hints of what he was thinking, so she could prepare herself. But she had yet to hear the details.

  Subera’s eyes rested on Trent. “Burnell?”

  Trent looked up at the sound of his name as if he’d just snapped awake after a nightmare-plagued nap. Lines dug into his forehead and flanked his mouth. His eyes seemed more intense against the pale of his skin. “Dryden will come after Professor Madsen again. But this time we can use his aggressiveness to our advantage.”

  Risa gripped her thighs under the table to keep her hands from shaking.

  Trent turned to Risa. His voice lowered, as if the details of the trap were a secret just between the two of them. “We are going to set you up in a bed-and-breakfast just north of Lake Loyal. We’ve evacuated the couple who owns the place. We’ll set up a patrol so Dryden will believe we’re watching over you.”

  He glanced up, his gaze scanning the agents in the room as if trying to pick out the very best ones for the job. “The more challenging the setup, the better. Dryden’s bold, and he likes thumbing his nose at authority.”

  She thought of Dryden’s cold eyes peering through the peephole in the hotel room door. The sound of his voice calling her name from the window. Under the table, she dug her fingernails into her palms.

  “His appearance at the hotel last night suggests he is keeping track of Professor Madsen’s location. So we need to assume we’re being watched, and be careful not to tip our hand. Once Dryden shows up—and he will—we’ll have plenty of agents and local police within striking distance.”

  Cassidy let out a snort. “Sounds easy.”

  “Easy and simple aren’t the same thing,” Detective Mylinski said.

  Trent nodded. “We need to keep this simple. The more moving parts, the more chance something could go wrong.

  Risa listened to the men.

  The walls inched a little closer.

  There wasn’t enough air in the room.

  She had never suffered an anxiety attack before, but she knew the signs. But fear wasn’t going to keep her from doing whatever she could for Nikki. Not this time. Risa couldn’t let it.

  Trent rested his hand on her arm. “You won’t be alone, Rees. An agent will be staying with you at all times.”

  “I’d like to volunteer for the job.”

  Risa focused on Chief Schneider, remembering the image of Deputy Perry’s flat face flecked with blood. His once twinkling eyes staring…

  Her throat tightened. Her chest squeezed. “I need to talk to you, Trent.”

  Trent raised a questioning brow.

  She pushed her chair back and stood. “Please.”

  Trent pushed his own chair back from the table and followed her up the stairs to the sanctuary.

  The church itself was quiet and smelled of dusty floors and old wood. Risa turned down a hall leading to the restrooms before stopping and turning to face Trent. She felt dizzy and her legs trembled, but at least out here she could breathe.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I keep thinking of Deputy Perry. He was such a nice man. So concerned about me. And now he’s dead.”

  “What are you getting at, Risa?”

  “Let me stay in the house alone.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “You can’t assign someone to watch over me again. I can’t…”

  “Be responsible for another death? You won’t be. We’ll stop Dryden.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “But you don’t believe me.”

  “It’s not that. I know you’ll stop him.”

  “I won’t take Schneider up on his offer.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But I won’t leave you unprotected, either.”

  “You can’t risk—”

  “I’ll protect you myself.”

  “You can’t…”

  “Do my job?”

  Risa felt sick.

  Trent narrowed his eyes on her. “You like to say we’re stronger together than we are apart. You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  When she’d said those words, she’d meant them. “I… I don’t know.”

  “Because this time, it means a risk to my life?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s exactly fair. Now you know how I feel. Why I never wanted to pull you into this world. Why I couldn’t marry you.”

  “You’re doing this to make some kind of point?”

  “I’m doing this to catch Dryden and make sure you stay alive. Do you believe we’re stronger together or not?”

  Risa looked into the eyes of the man she once thought she would marry, the man she still loved. If she was capable, she would lie. But that wouldn’t change anything. Trent would never let her face this alone. And in the end, she’d regret not telling him the truth when she got the chance. “I believe it, Trent. With my whole heart.”

  “Then prove it.”

  Trent

  Oak limbs thick and dense with leaves arched over the car, shadowing the drive from the moon’s light. Trent piloted around the curves in silence, his eyes glued to the road in front of him, his mind on the woman in the passenger seat.

  Using Rees’s words against her had been a dirty trick, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant convincing her to go along with his plan. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would let her face Dryden alone.

  He allowed his gaze to skate over her for a moment. Her ramrod-straight back. The way she folded her arms over her chest as if shielding herself. She hadn’t said more than two words since they’d left the church. Neither had he. There was nothing to say. Nothing to do but wait.

  He breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Lavender. A calming scent. But it did nothing to loosen the tension that wound around his nerves, only added another layer to it.

  If only he could turn the car around, whisk Rees far away from Dryden and FBI traps and risk. They could get lost. Someplace where neither Dryden nor the FBI could ever find them. Buy a house, raise a family—like they’d planned. Like they’d dreamed.

  Impossible.

  He could never turn his back on the people who needed him. He could never forget what he’d seen, what he’d felt. He’d been right to give up those dreams two years ago. And no matter how much he wished his life was different, he could never go back. He should know that by now. He should accept it.

  But somehow, in the warmth of her presence, he wanted to forget everything. Wipe the last years away as if they had never happened.

  The thick canopy of leaves and limbs opened into a clearing, and moonlight spilled from the sky. Set like a jewel in the center of a wide lawn stood an elegant Victorian bed-and-breakfast. Its round turret reached heavenward. Gingerbread flanked the eaves. And on the front porch, a bench swing swayed back and forth in the light breeze.

  The Lilac Inn.

  “It reminds me of that place on Chesapeake Bay.” Her voice descended into a whisper. “The place we were going to spend our honeymoon.”

  He remembered. Too
well. He’d made the reservations before he’d left for northern Wisconsin. Before he’d joined the investigation into the deaths of five young women. Before he’d ever heard the name of Ed Dryden.

  Trent focused on the scene in front of him. A wide, well-groomed lawn stretched out from the house on all sides before blending into acre after acre of state forest preserve. Forest that offered seclusion so no innocent bystanders would be hurt.

  The setup was perfect.

  He parked the car near the front door, but didn’t move to get out. Not yet.

  Next to him, Rees stared at the black outline of trees looming on the edge of the lawn and folded her arms tighter over her chest. “Do you think Dryden is out there right now?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “But he will be.”

  “He’ll wait until he thinks we’ve relaxed our guard.”

  She nodded, but she didn’t take her eyes from the blackness outside the window. “This is going to work.”

  “Yes.”

  “It has to.”

  “It will, Risa. It will.” Trent nodded to underscore the words, and hoped he hadn’t just told them both a tragic lie.

  Nikki

  Nikki ground out her cigarette in a glass bowl, the butt burned all the way to the filter. It was evening again, the darkness closing in. She’d been by herself in the cabin, smoking for several hours now. She wasn’t sure how long. She couldn’t hear any sound from outside except the song of frogs along the river. Not the engine of Eddie’s car, not the thunk of his feet on the wooden steps. She supposed she should be relieved, but she couldn’t manage it.

  Nikki pushed herself up from the old hide-a-bed and walked the four paces across the floor. Why couldn’t Eddie have stuck to their plan? Just hop on the interstate, drive until they couldn’t drive anymore, get lost… They would have been happy. They could have been. Nikki believed that. But now?

  Now Nikki didn’t know what to do.

  Risa would tell her to get out, to run, like she had at the hotel. Part of Nikki wanted to. Part of her had never been so frightened in her life. Not even the nights when her father had been drunk. Not even the nights when he’d come into her bedroom.

  It had been weird hearing Risa’s voice on the hotel phone this morning. Like something from the past, back when Nikki was a different person. Ever since, she’d turned the idea of running away from her husband over and over in her mind.

  She looked at the door, only a few feet away. She could open it, go down the steps, walk out into the woods, maybe follow the river until she reached a town.

  Or just keep walking until she couldn’t walk anymore.

  Nikki stepped to the door. She reached out, touched the knob. Over the pounding of her pulse, she heard something outside.

  A car engine approaching?

  The slam of a door?

  Eddie?

  He’d know what she’d been thinking. He’d know she doubted him. He’d be angry. What kind of wife doesn’t believe in her husband?

  Did she believe?

  Eddie had killed people. He’d done horrible things. Even if he had reasons for doing them, could that ever be enough?

  Risa said get out. Risa said run.

  But why was she listening to Risa? Why would she put any stock in what Risa wanted?

  Her sister was obsessed with Eddie. She visited him, wrote about him, thought about him night and day. Nikki had seen it herself. And when Nikki had written him that first letter, Risa had gone crazy. She’d said things. Eddie was taking advantage of Nikki. Eddie could never love Nikki. Eddie was using Nikki.

  As if Risa just wanted to keep Eddie all to herself.

  After all, Risa always looked after herself.

  There it was, the crackle of tires over gravel, the hum of an engine, the slam of a car door.

  Nikki let go of the knob, and backed away. Returning to the lumpy hide-a-bed couch, she curled up on one end, tucked her feet under her, and wrapped her arms around herself.

  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.”