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Val nodded. “Thank you.”

“Sylvie?” Bryce said in a gentle voice.

Sylvie didn’t look up.

He knelt beside her and grasped her hands, stopping the frantic clawing movement of her fingers. “Sylvie?”

She moved her gaze to his face, but he couldn’t sense any kind of a connection looking into her eyes. She seemed to be staring through him at another world. A world very far away.

She must be in shock. Why the hell wouldn’t she be? He sure was. He didn’t know what to think, what to feel, what to believe. Astonishment, denial, and anger tangled inside him like a writhing snake. But he couldn’t sort it out now. He had to focus, to keep himself together until after he got Sylvie far away from Ed Dryden.

“Let’s get out of here, Sylvie. Come on.” Gently Bryce pulled her up out of her chair.

“Think twice before trusting a lawyer, Sylvie. Especially this one.” Dryden’s voice prodded him like a blunt stick poking at a wounded animal. “He’s the type that will use you to further his own agenda. A truly manipulative and selfish breed.”

Bryce ground his teeth until his jaw hurt. “If I were you, Dryden, I’d shut the hell up. You’re an awfully stationary target.”

“What kind of a daddy would I be if I didn’t offer my little girl some fatherly advice?”

Bryce’s pulse pounded in his ears, pushing him closer to the edge.

Dryden couldn’t be Sylvie’s father. Bryce wouldn’t believe it. And if that bastard didn’t shut up, Bryce would put his hands on either side of his head and snap his neck like a twig. Make him pay for all he’d done. The idea of it was so sweet, it was all Bryce could do to force his feet to move toward the door. “Come on, Sylvie. Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to hurt you.”

“I would never hurt Sylvie. She’s my daughter, Walker. My little girl.”

No. No. No.

Sylvie stopped, she turned to face Dryden. “My mother. She was your wife?”

“We could have been the perfect little family. But unlike you and your sister, she didn’t understand me. She never did.”

Bryce angled his body between Dryden and Sylvie. He pulled her toward the door.

She hesitated.

“Come on, Sylvie.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to go with you, Walker. Maybe she wants to stay and talk. She hasn’t seen her daddy in more than twenty years.”

“Go to hell, Dryden.”

“Eventually. And when I get there, I’ll be sure to say hello to Tanner for you.”

Bryce let go of Sylvie’s hand. Dodging around the cops, he launched himself at Dryden and slammed a fist into the bastard’s nose.

Cartilage gave under Bryce’s knuckles. Dryden’s head snapped back. A spray of blood misted the air, hot and sticky.

Hands clawed at Bryce, grabbing him, pinning his arms behind his back. Val and Perreth dragged Bryce away.

“I wish I could let you at him,” Perreth said, dipping his lips close to Bryce’s ear. “You’d be doing the world a favor.”

Once the cops dragged Bryce clear of the room, they released his arms.

“Stay here,” Val Ryker said to Bryce. She focused on Sylvie. “Remember what I said. Every word a lie.”

Ryker and Perreth stepped back into the interview room and closed the door behind them.

Sylvie stared at the floor, tears brimming in her eyes.

Bryce clenched his hands into fists. His head throbbed. His mouth tasted of blood. How could Ed Dryden be Sylvie’s father? How did any of this make sense?

It didn’t.

“See? He was lying. Just like Val said.”

Sylvie shook her head.

“He was manipulating you.”

“He’s telling the truth, Bryce.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“He knew… he knew about my heart.”

“Diana could have told him.”

“And that’s why Diana visited him, why she was so interested…”

“You don’t know that.”

“But I do. Diana would never be a serial killer groupie. He’s our—”

“Stop.”

Sylvie shook her head. “And our mother… Diana and I, we look just like Adrianna Dryden. Just like her.”

Her quiet words hit Bryce square in the sternum. He hadn’t wanted to see it. He didn’t want to acknowledge it now.

“He’s my… my...” Sylvie looked up at Bryce.

Sylvie needed his help. He could see it in her eyes. In their desperate shine behind squinting lashes. She needed his help to sort through the shock, to understand what had just happened, to figure out what it meant.

Pressure built in his head. He groped inside himself. For something to give her, a word, a touch. But all that was there was the empty echo of Tanner’s laugh. The scent of blood. And the smug look in Ed Dryden’s eyes.

Bryce had to get out of here. Away from Dryden. Away from his regrets.

And—God forgive him—away from Sylvie.

Ed Dryden’s daughter.

“I’m sorry, Sylvie. I… I’m just sorry.” Bryce turned away from her and strode for the sally port and the hall beyond, leaving her all alone.

Sylvie

“I told Bryce to stay here.” Val Ryker paced the floor of the narrow observation room, clearly angry.

Sylvie wrapped her arms around herself. She wished she could sink into her chair and disappear. Her chest ached. Still her lungs refused to fill with air. And no matter how many short gasps she took, she couldn’t get the oxygen she needed.

Detective Perreth grunted. “Looks like we know who’s carrying Dryden’s messages.”

Sylvie glanced from Perreth to Val. “You’re not thinking Bryce…”

“He’s the only one we don’t have an eye on, and the punch could just be a cover,” Perreth said. “You tell me.”

“It’s not Bryce.”

Val watched her for a long while before she spoke. “Did you know he was Dryden’s lawyer?”

Sylvie nodded. She could still hear the pain in Bryce’s voice when he’d told her. The self-recrimination. The regret. “He hates Dryden. More than anything. He blames Dryden for killing his brother.”

“The hunting accident?” Val asked. “Interesting.”

Perreth started for the door. “Seems to me, he’s been playing everybody. I’m going to have him picked up.”

“Wait,” Sylvie said, but he was gone.

“Bryce will have to answer for himself.” Val put a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you back to your hotel.”

Sylvie didn’t want to go back there. Where she’d given herself to Bryce. Where she’d thought she was in love. But she had nowhere else to go. “Okay.”

Val escorted Sylvie out through the sally ports and helped her sign out. Outside, two police officers stopped talking as she emerged. Professor Bertram leaned on a police cruiser, puffing on a cigarette as if his life depended on it. He looked at Sylvie with bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry he’s your father. I wish it wasn’t true.”

Sylvie nodded. She didn’t want to think about Dryden, but even now, she realized she could never escape him. He was part of her past. Part of her DNA. Every time she looked in the mirror, she’d now see his eyes. Every time she witnessed a father laughing with his daughter, she’d now hear his voice.

Daddy. I want you to call me Daddy.

Sylvie shuddered.

When Ed Dryden had told her that he was her father, she’d thought she’d hit bottom, but she’d been wrong. She hadn’t known what bottom was until Bryce had walked away because of it. Because of who she was.

Val opened the front door of the police cruiser and motioned Sylvie inside. One of the two chatting officers slid into the driver’s seat.