He had never been inside her house. He stepped in, closed the door, and eyed the dead bolt as he locked it. “You need to get a security system, Maura.”
“I’ve been planning to.”
“Do it soon, okay?” He looked at her. “I can help you choose the best one.”
She nodded. “I’d appreciate the advice. Would you like a drink?”
“Not tonight, thanks.”
They went into the living room. He paused, looking at the piano in the corner. “I didn’t know you played.”
“Since I was a kid. I don’t practice nearly enough.”
“You know, Anna played too…” He stopped. “I guess you might not know that.”
“I didn’t know that. It’s so eerie, Rick, how every time I learn something new about her, she seems more and more like me.”
“She played beautifully.” He went to the piano, lifted the keyboard cover, and plunked out a few notes. Closed the cover again, and stood staring down at the gleaming black surface. He looked at her. “I’m worried about you, Maura. Especially tonight, after what happened to Van Gates.”
She sighed and sank onto the couch. “I’ve lost control of my life. I can’t even sleep with my windows open anymore.”
He sat down, too. Chose the chair facing her, so that if she raised her head, she would have to look at him. “I don’t think you should be alone here tonight.”
“This is my house. I’m not going to leave.”
“Then don’t leave.” A pause. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
Her gaze lifted to his. “Why are you doing this, Rick?”
“Because I think you need watching over.”
“And you’re the one to do it?”
“Who else is going to? Look at you! You live such a solitary life, all by yourself in this house. I think about you alone here, and it scares me, what could happen. When Anna needed me, I wasn’t there. But I can be here for you.” He reached out and took her hands. “I can be here whenever you need me.”
She looked down at his hands, covering hers. “You loved her, didn’t you?” When he didn’t answer, she looked up and met his gaze. “Didn’t you, Rick?”
“She needed me.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I couldn’t stand by and let her get hurt. Not by that man.”
I should have seen it from the beginning, she thought. It was always there, in the way he looked at me, the way he touched me.
“If you’d seen her that night, in the ER,” he said. “The black eye, the bruises. I took one look at her face, and I wanted to beat the shit out of whoever did it. There aren’t many things that’ll make me lose it, Maura, but any man who hurts a woman-” He took a sharp breath. “I wasn’t going to let that happen to her again. But Cassell wouldn’t let go. He kept calling her, stalking her, so I had to step in. I helped her install some locks. Started dropping by every day, to check on her. Then one night, she asked me to stay for dinner, and…” He gave a defeated shrug. “That’s how it started. She was scared, and she needed me. It’s instinct, you know. Maybe a cop’s instinct. You want to protect.”
Especially when she’s an attractive woman.
“I tried to keep her safe, that’s all.” He looked at her. “So, yes. I ended up falling in love with her.”
“And what is this, Rick?” She looked at his hands, still grasping hers. “What’s happening here? Is this for me, or for her? Because I’m not Anna. I’m not her replacement.”
“I’m here because you need me.”
“This is like a replay. You’ve cast yourself in the same role, as the guardian. And I’m just the understudy who happened to step into Anna’s part.”
“It’s not like that.”
“What if you’d never known my sister, if you and I were just two people who’d met at a party? Would you still be here?”
“Yes. I would be.” He leaned toward her, his hands tight around hers. “I know I would be.”
For a moment they sat in silence. I want to believe him, she thought. It would be so easy to believe him.
But she said, “I don’t think you should stay here tonight.”
Slowly he straightened. His eyes were still on hers, but there was distance between them now. And disappointment.
She rose to her feet; so did he.
In silence they walked to the front door. There he paused and turned to her. Gently he lifted his hand to her face and cupped her face, a touch she did not flinch away from.
“Be careful,” he said, and walked out.
She locked the door behind him.
TWENTY-NINE
MATTIE ATE THE LAST STRIP of beef jerky. She gnawed it like a wild animal feeding on desiccated carrion, thinking: Protein for strength. For victory! She thought of athletes preparing for marathons, honing their bodies for the performance of their lives. This would be a marathon, too. One chance to win.
Lose, and you’re dead.
The jerky was like leather, and she almost gagged as she swallowed it, but she managed to wash it down with a gulp of water. The second jug was almost empty. I’m down to the bitter end, she thought; I can’t hold out much longer. And now she had a new worry: Her contractions were starting to get uncomfortable, like a fist squeezing down. It didn’t qualify as painful yet, but it was a harbinger of things to come.
Where was he, goddamn it? Why had he left her alone so long? With no watch to track the time, she didn’t know if it had been hours or days since his last visit. She wondered if she had made him angry when she’d yelled at him. Was this her punishment? Was he trying to scare her a little, make her understand that she had to be polite and show him some respect? All her life, she’d been polite, and look where it had gotten her. Polite girls got pushed around. They got stuck at the end of the line, where no one paid them any attention. They got married to men who promptly forgot they even existed. Well, I’m through being polite, she thought. If I ever get out of here, I’m going to grow a spine.
But first I have to get out of here. And that means I have to pretend to be polite.
She took another sip of water. Felt strangely sated, as though she’d feasted and drunk wine. Bide your time, she thought. He’ll come back.
Wrapping the blanket around her shoulders, she closed her eyes.
And woke up in the grip of a contraction. Oh no, she thought, this one hurts. This one definitely hurts. She lay sweating in the dark, trying to remember her Lamaze classes, but they seemed like a lifetime ago. Someone else’s lifetime.
Breathe in, breathe out. Cleanse…
“Lady.”
She went rigid. Stared up toward the grate, where the voice had whispered. Her pulse hammered. Time to act, GI Jane. But lying in the darkness, breathing in her own scent of terror, she thought: I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. Why did I ever think I could do this?
“Lady. Talk to me.”
This is your one chance. Do it.
She took a deep breath. “I need help,” she whimpered.
“Why?”
“My baby…”
“Tell me.”
“It’s coming. I’m having pains. Oh, please let me out! I don’t know how much longer it will be…” She gave a sob. “Let me out. I need to get out. My baby’s coming.”
The voice fell silent.
She clung to the blanket, afraid to breathe, afraid to miss his softest whisper. Why didn’t he answer? Had he left again? Then she heard the thud, and a scraping.
A shovel. He was starting to dig.
One chance, she thought. I have just this one chance.
More thuds. The shovel moved in longer strokes, scooping away dirt, the scrapes as jarring as the screech of chalk on a board. She was breathing fast now, her heart banging in her chest. Either I live or die, she thought. It all gets decided now.
The scraping stopped.
Her hands were ice, fingers chilled as they clutched the blanket to her shoulders. She heard wood creak, and then the hinges gave a squeal. Dirt spilled into her prison, into her eyes. Oh god, oh god, I won’t be able to see. I need to see! She turned away to protect her face against the earth trickling onto her hair. Blinked again and again to clear the grit from her eyes. With her head down, she could not see him standing above her. And what did he see, staring down into the pit? His captive huddled under a blanket, dirty, defeated. Wracked by the pains of childbirth.