Val
Val had spent half a day in Madison, trying to track down Dryden’s former lawyer only to learn he had closed his law firm and put his house on the market, shortly after his brother and partner in the firm had died in a hunting accident. She was already on her way home to her little horse farm outside the town of Lake Loyal when Stan Perreth called.
“You want me to turn around?” she asked, hoping he would say no.
“Yes.”
Val let out a heavy sigh. She’d been looking forward to an evening at home with Lund, eating frozen pizza and watching some dumb action movie on Amazon Prime. Probably boring to most, but after this insane weekend, she could use a little downtime and a cuddle on the couch before the official work week started. “Didn’t you say it was a suicide?”
“Yes.”
“Is there something suspicious about it?”
“Not about the body. At least not that we can tell until the autopsy.”
“Then what?”
“I want to run something by you. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Val pulled over to the shoulder, texted Lund, then turned around and headed back in the other direction.
When she finally reached the address Stan had given her, the body had already been taken away. “I thought you wanted to run something by me?”
“Not about the suicide itself. About the guy who committed it.” Stan gave her a rundown on Sami Yamal’s career and connections.
Val summed it all up. “So, we have a guy who has spent most of his life studying Dryden commit suicide, a woman who has interviewed Dryden disappear, and two recent homicides that mimic Dryden’s past murders.”
“Exactly.”
“And you think they’re all connected.”
“Don’t you?”
“We can’t assume anything.”
“Oh come on, Val. All of this has gone down at the same time. You think this is a coincidence?”
“No.”
Stan gave her a satisfied grunt and then one of his disconcerting smiles.
Val fought the urge to squirm. “We’re missing something. The element or elements that tie everything together.”
“That’s exactly how I see it.” Stan reached out and skimmed a finger down her arm. “Why don’t we talk about it over dinner?”
“Stan…”
“Come on. We have a lot of work to do, but that’s not all there has to be. You have to eat. I have to eat. It could be fun.”
Val knew damn well he was no longer talking about dinner. Not really. “My fiancé has dinner waiting for me at home.”
“Fiancé?”
Val hated having to trot out Lund as some kind of excuse, but she knew from experience that the mention of another man killed a romantic invitation faster than any woman simply saying she wasn’t interested. And she was far too busy to walk the tightrope between firmness in her resolve and bruising Stan’s ego.
“I spent the day trying to get in contact with Dryden’s lawyer… well, former lawyer.”
“Why is that?” Stan said, returning to his usual gruff cop self.
Val was relieved. “He and Diana seem to be the only names on the prison’s visitor record. I thought he might be able to connect some dots.”
“I’m sure he can. In fact, he’s connected some already.”
“You’ve talked to him?”
“He found Sami Yamal’s body.”
“What?”
“He was just here. Left less than an hour ago with Diana Gale’s sister.” Stan gave her a how-do-you-like-me-now grin. “See? We really need to have some dinner.”
Val had just opened her mouth to respond when her cell phone rang. Grateful for the moment to collect her thoughts, she fished it out of her pocket and answered. “Ryker.”
“Val…” Bobby’s voice was weak. “We need to talk.”
Sylvie
Sylvie stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Hair tousled and wet and body wrapped in a towel, she looked tired. Shell-shocked. No surprise there. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t erase images of Sami Yamal’s apparent suicide from her mind. The blood on the floor. The dead stare of his eyes. The smell that had filled her nostrils, clung to her hair and permeated her clothes.
After she and Bryce had answered Perreth’s questions for what seemed like hours, Bryce drove her to the hotel and insisted on accompanying her to her room. She should have objected. When he’d paused in the hallway, waiting for an invitation inside, she should have simply closed the door. But after what she’d seen at Sami’s apartment, she couldn’t bring herself to shut him out.
Sylvie listened to the rhythm of his footsteps as he paced the floor outside the bathroom door. She couldn’t imagine what she would have done if she’d come across Sami’s body by herself. Even now, the horror of it hung on the edges of her mind, as strong and hard to get rid of as the memory of that smell.
She leaned on the vanity. A sob worked up her throat and echoed in the bathroom. She could never forget how she’d felt walking into that apartment, smelling that odor and thinking in the back of her mind that it could be Diana. That her sister really might be dead.
A knock on the door. “Sylvie? Are you okay?”
She grasped the towel, pulling the terrycloth tighter around her body. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Of course, I’m—” Her voice broke. She closed her eyes.
“Open the door.”
Sylvie had to pull herself together. She couldn’t hide in here and make him worry she was falling apart. “Just a second.”
She let the towel fall to the floor and pulled on her robe. Tying the sash securely, she took a deep breath and opened the door. “See? I’m okay.”
Bryce searched her eyes. “Sure?”
Barely above a whisper, his one word carried so much concern, tears came to her eyes.
She turned away.
“Sylvie.” He met her gaze in the mirror. “You’ve never seen a dead body before, have you?”
They might not have known each other very long, but the events of the past few days had convinced her that at times he knew what she was feeling before she did. “I keep seeing his eyes.”
“Don’t think about it.”
A sob hiccupped in her throat. “I keep seeing Diana.”
He wrapped his arms around her. His chest and the firm plane of his stomach pressed against her back.
The press of his body felt so good, so right...
“I can’t do this.”
His breath whispered against her neck. “Just let me hold you.”
A shiver rippled over her skin. Not a shiver of cold, though. A shiver of anticipation. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted much more. But… “You might be gone tomorrow.”
“I won’t be. I’ll be right here.”
“That’s worse.”
Bryce’s eyebrows dipped low.
He deserved an explanation. As much as she didn’t want to voice her fears, her insecurities, he deserved to know where he stood. “The longer you’re here, the more I’ll rely on you. The more I’ll…”
Her voice faltered. The more she’d what?
“You’re still worried I’ll leave you in the lurch.”
She nodded.
“I won’t.”
She wanted to believe him.
“You can trust me, Sylvie.”
She swallowed into an aching throat. “I do trust you on some level. I just…”
“Can’t go that far?”
“Cowardly, huh?”
“There’s nothing about you that’s cowardly.” Slipping his hand along her cheek, he brushed her hair back from her face, draping it over her shoulder. “Just let me hold you. That’s all. It doesn’t have to go further than that.”