But hearing Eddie say it still hurt.
“I’m the only one who cares about you, Nikki. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”
She managed a nod. Maybe he did care. She’d like to think so. But watching him kill these nice people… She was no longer sure he was the best thing.
Oh God, what was happening to him? To her? To everything she thought she knew?
“What is your problem?”
Nikki stepped back from the venom in his tone. “Nothing.”
“I just told you I cared. Is this any kind of way for a wife to act?”
“No, no, I’m sorry. All this… it’s just been so upsetting.”
“You’re having doubts. I can tell. You’re having doubts about us.”
“No, no Eddie.” But she was having doubts. More than doubts. Nikki felt as if she was losing her mind.
“I’ve taken care of you Nikki. I’ve loved you. All this…” He gestured at the house, the furniture, the dead bodies, as if they were the same thing. “I’ve done it for you. To provide for you.”
“I… I didn’t want you to—”
“Didn’t want me to what?”
“Kill.”
“That’s on you.”
“What?”
“I could get along just fine. But a wife needs a place to live, to call home. You expect me to stop by the local bank, Nikki? Do you want to send me back behind bars?”
Nikki shook her head.
“You need to apologize.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s not good enough, after what you’ve done to me.”
“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Take off your clothes.”
“Eddie, we can talk, I’m really sorr—”
“Take your clothes off now, or I’ll cut them off.”
Tears clouded Nikki’s vision. She tried to unbutton the red silk blouse, her fingers shaking so badly she couldn’t grasp the buttons.
“You don’t do justice to that blouse, anyway. Too flat chested. Definitely not like your sister.”
A few hours ago, that would have cut her. Now she barely felt it. Eddie wasn’t who she thought he was. Not at all. He wanted her naked now to what? Humiliate her? Make love to her?
Kill her?
And there wasn’t anything Nikki could do to stop it.
“I said now.” Eddie grabbed the blouse and yanked. Buttons popped, fabric ripped, and she stood exposed from the waist up. He pulled his knife from his pocket and opened the blade. “Take off the jeans.”
She did as he said. When she was finally naked, Eddie turned away. “Go upstairs and get ready for me.”
Nikki clung to the railing, taking one step at a time, her knees barely holding her up. She’d escaped him, for a moment. But she’d made Eddie mad. Things would get worse. They always did. Her only chance was to do what he said. Try to make him happy. Hope the storm would blow over.
Nikki might not know how a loving relationship worked, but she was good at this. At least she was getting good at it. She knew what to do.
She had just taken her place on the queen size bed when Eddie burst into the room. He held long pieces of clear wire in his hands, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized they were probably speaker wires from the living room downstairs.
He didn’t say a word, just started winding the wire around her wrists and tying her to the headboard. He fastened her ankles to the footboard, her legs wide, then stood back, as if to survey his work.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. Let me make it up to you.”
“You want to make it up?”
“Yes. I love you. I don’t want to fight.”
“You sure can be a bitch.”
“I’ll try not to do it again.”
“It’s miracle I put up with you.” He dipped a hand in his pocket, pulled out his knife and cell phone, and set them on the bedside table. Then he climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. Hands planted on either side of her head, he straddled her, staring into her eyes.
“You’re still dressed,” Nikki said. This was the way to calm him. Give her body to him. Give her pride. Give whatever he wanted.
She knew how to play this game.
“Trying to make me happy, Nikki?” he asked, lowering his weight on top of her, his mint-scented breath fanning her face.
“Of course. You’re my husband.” She braced herself, waiting for him to kiss her. But instead of claiming her lips, he rasped his cheek against hers and whispered in her ear.
“I never wanted you, Nikki.”
She couldn’t stop the whimper, deep in her throat.
“You never impressed me. I’ve seen prettier, and you’re not very smart. This has all been about your sister. She said things about me. Things that weren’t nice. And now I’m going to make her pay.”
Nikki recoiled. Too late.
His teeth closed on her ear lobe. They cut into her flesh, pop, pop, pop, severing each layer of skin. A wave crashed over her. Cold, then pain, then the warmth of her own blood.
Eddie spat on the sheet beside her, and when he drew back and grinned at her, his lips were so red it looked like he was wearing lipstick. “I have a party to crash, so I’ll have to hunt you later. But don’t worry, I’ll give your love to your sister.”
He gave her the kind of grinning wink she’d once found charming, then climbed off the bed and left the room.
Risa
By the time the morning sun reached through the window and awakened Risa from her dreamless sleep, Trent was already gone. She breathed deeply, savoring the scent of his body lingering on the sheets, the memories of his loving lingering in her heart.
He’d needed her last night. Needed her as much as she’d needed him. To soothe his pain. To remind him of what life could be—sweet, loving, gentle. To give him a respite, however short, from the evil and death he lived every day.
The life he would go back to once Dryden was captured.
Why couldn’t Trent see how much better their lives would be if they were together? How much stronger they would both be? If only he had felt the strength surging through them, joining them last night. The strength she had felt.
Maybe he had.
She was almost afraid to hope. Drawing a breath of courage, she folded back the covers and crawled from the bed. She didn’t have time to hole up in bed and wallow in a litany of questions and “if only.” Trent had likely been up for hours, if he’d slept at all. Either something had happened or he was sorting through FBI files, searching for evidence that could lead to Dryden’s whereabouts. Either way, she intended to help. Whether he liked the idea or not.
Risa dressed quickly. The aroma of coffee drifted to her the moment she opened the guest room door, beckoning her to the kitchen below. She padded down the stairs, the hardwood cool on her bare feet.
She found him in the inn’s dining room. A carafe of coffee perched on a mahogany table wide enough to feed a houseful of guests. An empty cup sat on the table as well. Waiting for her.
Trent looked up from a file. He wore a starched white dress shirt and pressed tie under his shoulder holster. “Good morning,” he said. And though his brow was once again knit with worry and his face tense with concentration, his voice held a note of something she swore hadn’t been there yesterday.
“Good morning.” She crossed the room and stopped by his side. She wanted to bend down and kiss him like a lover, but she didn’t dare. What they had shared last night was too fragile to stand up to the reality of morning.
Contenting herself with laying her hand on his shoulder, she peered at the file spread open on the table in front of him. Police reports stared back at her. Witness interviews.
He closed the flap of the folder, blocking her view.
She bit her bottom lip. But before she could say something, Trent reached down, pulled a fat file from the box at his feet and set it on the table.
“Newspaper clippings to read w
ith your coffee.”
She didn’t try to hide her smile. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I need help, and you work cheap.”
He poured her a cup of coffee and set the cup on the table next to the file.
She slipped into the chair and took a sip of the coffee. Rich and hot, the brew washed over her taste buds in a welcome wave of flavor. But what she really needed was the dose of caffeine to sharpen her mind. And her eyes. She looked down at the file folder bulging with clippings. Drawing a fortifying breath, she opened the cover and focused on the first article.
The article documented the disappearance of Ashley Dalton, a twenty-year-old biochemistry student at UW-Superior who had last been seen by her roommate when she’d left for the bus station. Ashley had been planning a trip to Madison to attend Freakfest with her boyfriend the weekend before Halloween. When the bus arrived and she wasn’t on it, the Daltons had filed a missing person report with the police. The article was very dry and factual, but what hit Risa like a kick to the chest was the photo of the young woman.
Though not exactly beautiful, Ashley Dalton had a zest for life that came across in the sparkle of her eyes, clearly visible even in the grainy newspaper photo. A zest and sparkle Dryden had stolen.
Risa paged through three more entreaties for information on the missing girl before reaching the article proclaiming her body had been found by a deer hunter. Risa’s throat felt thick, but she pushed on.
The next article sported several photos covering Ashley’s funeral and details of the ongoing investigation. Risa read the article before turning her eyes to the photos.
The first was another photo of Ashley as vibrant as the first. Next to that was a photo of a detective standing in the wooded area where Ashley’s body had been found. Risa was about to ask Trent if he recognized the detective when the third photo caught her eye.
It was a shot of the funeral. Ashley’s bereaved parents standing at the door of the church, their arms encircling their two younger daughters as if they were afraid the girls would be snatched away from them like their older sister had been.
However, it wasn’t the bereaved family that caught Risa’s attention, but the sliver of a face hovering in the background. A familiar square-shaped jaw. Kindly eyes turned down in sorrow.
Gordy Young.
A gasp tore from her lips. Shock stuttered through her mind.
“What? What do you see?” Trent craned his neck to look at the photo.
She angled the clipping toward him and pointed. “It’s Gordy Young, the guard at the prison.”
Trent stared at the picture. “It sure is.”
Questions spun through her mind. What was Gordy doing at the funeral of Dryden’s first victim? Was he Ashley’s friend? A relative?
Risa squinted, searching Gordy’s face. Even though the old photo didn’t carry a lot of detail, the guard looked drawn, tired, his apparent mood matching that of Ashley’s parents and sisters.
Images flooded Risa’s mind in a jumble.
Gordy calling her to the prison to stop her sister from marrying Dryden.
Gordy’s eyes hardening in hatred at the sound of Dryden’s name.
Gordy’s lethal words as he stood with her at the prison entrance. Scum like that doesn’t deserve to live. Not one more day. Not even if it’s in a hellhole like this.
Gordy couldn’t have helped Dryden. He hated Dryden. He would never help free a serial killer.
Would he?
I didn’t give Dryden anything. The only thing I wanted to give him was a bullet in the head.
A cold finger traveled up Risa’s spine.
Trent raised his gaze to hers, the look in his eyes telling her his mind was traveling a similar path. Without saying a word, he bent and shuffled through the files in the box at his feet. He withdrew a file and spread it open on the table.
He scanned through the pages with narrowed eyes. “Ashley Dalton had a boyfriend. Lived in Madison. Going to school at the technical college.”
“She was supposed to meet him that weekend.”
“Right. The police thought he might be a suspect for a while. But they cleared him.” Trent plucked a report from the stack and placed it in front of Risa.
She looked down at the paper. The name of the subject interviewed stared back at her in black and white.
Gordon Young.
She raised her eyes to Trent’s. It was clear to her now. Gordy’s attempt to keep Nikki from marrying Dryden. His hatred for the killer. His comments about Dryden deserving to die. It all made sense. “Gordy didn’t let Dryden out to help him.”
Trent nodded. “He planned to kill him.”
Nikki
Nikki didn’t know how long she’d been yanking at the speaker wire tying her to the headboard, but her wrist felt cut to the bone. Her eyes burned from crying. The right side of her head throbbed.
She’d been stupid, so stupid she wanted to die. But that meant giving up, and she couldn’t give up. Not yet.
Nikki looked past the blood Eddie had spat on the sheets… past the little lump of skin she knew was a piece of her ear… and beyond to the bedside table. Eddie had picked up his knife before he left, but he’d missed her cell phone. Probably figured there was no way for her to reach it.
Nikki needed to prove him wrong.
She stretched for the phone again, the wire giving just a little bit more.
Trent
Trent gripped the steering wheel hard and swung the car through the twists and curves in the road. With each foot of road whirring under the tires, the bed-and-breakfast faded farther and farther into the past, only the tangle of forest visible now in the rearview mirror.
Subera had wanted to continue with the trap, to send Trent to speak with Young while Risa waited in the B&B. He’d argued that Trent’s stepping out would be Dryden’s cue to make a move. It was a logical plan. One that made sense.
Only Trent couldn’t agree to it.
In the passenger seat next to him, Rees held on, one hand on the door handle, one hand on the dash, the seat belt holding her securely. She hadn’t said two words since she’d discovered the newspaper clipping, but Trent knew she was upset. How could she not be? She’d trusted Young and here his actions had caused many deaths and put Nikki in danger.
Put Risa in danger, too.
In the end, Risa had agreed with Trent. She’d insisted on talking to Young, on finding out what he knew about Dryden. And without his bait, Subera had no choice but to suspend the trap.
Trent glanced toward the passenger seat again. Even with the morning’s turmoil, Trent couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying to what had happened between him and Risa. He could still smell her, still taste her, still feel her. He’d been like a starving man at a banquet table, filling himself with her essence, her energy.
He couldn’t get enough last night. Hell, who was he fooling? He still couldn’t. And that was what worried him. Because now that he’d basked in her light again, how would he go back to living without it?
Drops of rain spattered the windshield, turning the winding road ahead into a glistening black snake, the trees whizzing past into a blurred mosaic of green and brown. Trent switched on the windshield wipers. The rhythmic swish over glass marked each minute and each mile ticking by. Reaching the end of the road, he performed a rolling stop and checked traffic before gunning the car out onto the highway.
Once on the straighter road, Rees loosened her grip and turned to him. “Will the FBI beat us to Gordy’s house?”
“Probably.” He’d prefer confronting Young at the prison, a much more controlled and predictable environment. But the guard had the day off, so Trent didn’t have a choice. “The local sheriff’s department will also be there. Young should be safely detained by the time we arrive.”
Her lips straightened in a determined line. A little crease furrowed her forehead between arched brows. “He’ll talk to me, Trent. I know he will. For Nikki.”
Trent d
idn’t like the idea of dragging Rees into this mess, but she was right. Young liked her. He’d made that clear when he’d opened up to her the last time they’d questioned him. Besides, if Young was any kind of a man, he would feel guilty for the grief his actions had caused Risa. And the danger he’d caused her sister. If anyone could get him to confess what he’d done, what he knew about Dryden, and where Dryden might be hiding, Rees could. “I can think of no one better for the job.”
She nodded resolutely, and he couldn’t miss the small smile that curled the corners of her lips. “We make a good team.”
“That was never in question.”
“I know.”
“And last night… I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You could start by saying it was terrific.”
“It was terrific, Rees. Better than terrific.”
“Then that’s enough.”
Trent knew it wasn’t enough. Not for Risa. Not for him. But he had no clue what they could do about it.
He piloted the car around a bend in the road. Up ahead, the water of Lake Loyal reflected the gray of the overcast sky, its surface rough from rain. The town itself huddled on the far shore, barely visible through the gloom. He made a sharp turn off the highway and onto another winding country road. “Damn. Didn’t they build any straight roads in this part of the state?”
The dark green sedan blocking the next intersection marked Young’s driveway as clearly as a neon sign. Trent pulled into the driveway and hit the brakes. Plucking his ID and badge from his suit jacket, he opened his window and flashed them at the deputy. “Special Agent Trent Burnell and Professor Madsen.”
The deputy nodded. “Special Agent Subera told me to expect you.”
“Is the suspect in custody?”
“Yes. Inside the house. Go ahead.” The deputy moved to the side and waved Trent around the parked car.
Fastening his ID to the outside of his suit jacket, Trent shifted into gear and followed the deputy’s direction. The car bumped and dipped through the shallow ditch flanking the drive. Once the tires hit gravel, he accelerated toward the small house.
Lethal (Small Town Secrets Book 1) Page 16
