Even as a teenager with more pimples than confidence, he’d never found being near a woman this difficult.
Minutes passed as he delved into his stack of reports. He’d just reached the bottom of the first pile when the bell on the café door jingled, and the ache in his stomach returned in full force. As much as he wanted to blame it on the café’s coffee, he knew without looking up Diana was once again heading for his table.
“We need to talk.”
“Didn’t Val take care of things?”
“I didn’t come here just to hand over the portrait and card.”
“Why did you come, Diana?”
She pulled out a chair and slid into it, plunking her elbows on the table. “I want to go to the prison and talk to Ed Dryden.”
For several seconds, Bobby just stared at her. “And who is that going to help?”
She tilted her head and looked at him as if he were an idiot. “In the card, he wrote that he wants to see us, talk to us, then he put in a news clipping about the killer.”
“So, you think he wants to talk to you about the Copycat Killer?”
“Don’t you?”
“No.”
“Then why send the clipping?”
“To manipulate you. To get you to visit him. Or maybe…”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe it’s a threat.”
He expected a reaction. She didn’t give him one.
And he knew why. “Of course, you’ve already thought of that, haven’t you? That’s why you didn’t object when I suggested you leave town.”
She averted her gaze, studying a crack in the Formica. “He sent the card to Sylvie. He wrote that bit about her wedding. I’m afraid for her.”
“You should be afraid for yourself too.”
“I brought him into Sylvie’s life and my own. He’s my problem. I have to deal with him.”
“How do you think giving him exactly what he wants is dealing with him?”
“If I can get him to talk to me, to tell me something about the copycat, maybe you can use it to find him before he kills more women.”
“And Dryden?”
“If you can get evidence tying him to the copycat, maybe you could justify sending him back into solitary confinement, no matter what kind of lawsuit he won against the Department of Corrections.”
“I’m sorry, Diana. It’s out of the question.”
She leaned forward, her breasts brushing the tabletop. “I know he refuses to talk to anyone. But he’ll talk to me.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“What’s the problem then?”
If she really didn’t think asking him to agree to put her in danger was a problem, he sure as hell wasn’t going to point it out. “My lieutenant will never go for the idea.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“He’s up to his ankles in sewage today. I don’t think he’ll have time for a meeting.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I came to you because you’re the lead detective on the copycat case. This isn’t personal, Bobby.”
“Then don’t take it personally when I tell you there’s no way in hell you’re getting near that prison.”
“You can’t stop me. I’ll find a way to talk to Dryden on my own. I did it before.”
Her words pierced his chest like a well-aimed ice pick. She’d kept a lot of things from him in the months before their wedding—the fact that Dryden was her biological father, her visits to the prison, her doubts concerning their marriage. She hadn’t trusted him with any of it. “And if I’d known, I would have stopped you then.”
Diana pushed back her chair, metal legs screeching against linoleum. “Obviously talking to you was a waste of time. I’ll just go straight to your lieutenant and see what he really has to say.”
She stood and marched for the door.
Watching the sharp kick of her hips, Bobby gritted his teeth. He knew what the lieutenant would say. Months of no new leads squeezing down on his head, he’d probably consider her offer. And in light of Bobby’s past relationship with Diana, it was doubtful the lieutenant would assign him to accompany her to the prison. He’d have no control over any of it. “Wait.”
Diana stopped and spun to face him, hair flung over her shoulder, passion flushing her cheeks.
For a second, Bobby couldn’t breathe normally.
He must be crazy for considering this. Certifiable. She’d told him she didn’t want his protection, hadn’t she? Hell, even back when she’d allowed him to take care of her, he’d failed. But somehow none of that made a difference. He might not want to accompany Diana into that prison, but he couldn’t live with the idea of her walking in there without him. Whether he could protect her this time or not, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t stand by and not try.
“Give me a second, and I’ll drive you to Banesbridge.”
Diana
Diana didn’t have to wonder how worried Bobby was about her visit with Ed Dryden. He spent the drive to Banesbridge lecturing her about the psyche of the serial killer. The security screening and trek down the halls of the main building he filled with warnings about prison security. By the time they’d reached the tiny observation room next to the room where she would meet Ed Dryden and he started jotting down a list of approved questions, she’d had enough.
“Listen, I’m the one asking the questions. I’m the one who will decide what they are.”
Bobby paced across the closet-sized space. He stopped and peered at the television monitor showing four chairs arranged around a small table in the adjacent room. The table and one of the chairs were riveted to the floor. “You may be his daughter, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try to manipulate you just like he does everyone else. In fact, it’s probably even more important to him to control you.”
“You’re the one who’s trying to control me.” Diana was sorry as soon as the words left her lips. Comparing Bobby to Dryden wasn’t even on the remote edges of fair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But I can take care of myself, Bobby. I have to take care of myself.”
“So you’ve said.”
He didn’t get it. Maybe he never would. But it didn’t matter. She knew how much being dependent on other people had cost her. She had only to close her eyes and she was tied up in that cabin in the woods, waiting for her own death, reaching deep for the strength to see her nightmare through…
And coming up empty.
The door on the far end of the interview room swung wide and two guards led Ed Dryden inside.
She hadn’t seen him for nine months, but he hadn’t changed. He still looked much younger than his fifty-five years. Young and nice looking and just a regular guy.
The guards led him to the chair that was riveted to the floor and handcuffed him to its arms. Once Dryden was secured, a guard with broad shoulders peered up at the camera. “He’s ready for you.”
Diana took a shaky step toward the door.
Bobby touched her arm. “Don’t agree to anything he asks. Don’t promise anything. And don’t tell him anything personal. At least no more than he already knows.”
“I won’t.”
“And be careful.”
Her throat pinched. So much of her wanted to huddle in Bobby’s arms and never venture out again. “This was a mistake.”
“You don’t have to go in there. We can turn around, leave right now.”
“I mean coming here with you.”
Bobby’s lips pressed into a bloodless line. He let his hand fall from her arm.
She knew she should explain the weakness she felt around him, the dependence, the need. But she also knew he wouldn’t understand. She’d meant it when she’d told him their involvement wasn’t personal. It couldn’t be. And it scared her that the urge to make it so seemed to be coming from her even more than from him.