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“Be responsible for another death? You won’t be. We’ll stop Dryden.”

“I know. I know.”

“But you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that. I know you’ll stop him.”

“I won’t take Schneider up on his offer.”

“Thank you.”

“But I won’t leave you unprotected, either.”

“You can’t risk—“

“I’ll protect you myself.”

“You can’t…”

“Do my job?”

Risa felt sick.

Trent narrowed his eyes on her. “You like to say we’re stronger together than we are apart. You don’t really believe that, do you?”

When she’d said those words, she’d meant them. “I… I don’t know.”

“Because this time, it means a risk to my life?”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s exactly fair. Now you know how I feel. Why I never wanted to pull you into this world. Why I couldn’t marry you.”

“You’re doing this to make some kind of point?”

“I’m doing this to catch Dryden and make sure you stay alive. Do you believe we’re stronger together or not?”

Risa looked into the eyes of the man she once thought she would marry, the man she still loved. If she was capable, she would lie. But that wouldn’t change anything. Trent would never let her face this alone. And in the end, she’d regret not telling him the truth when she got the chance. “I believe it, Trent. With my whole heart.”

“Then prove it.”

Trent

Oak limbs thick and dense with leaves arched over the car, shadowing the drive from the moon’s light. Trent piloted around the curves in silence, his eyes glued to the road in front of him, his mind on the woman in the passenger seat.

Using Rees’s words against her had been a dirty trick, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant convincing her to go along with his plan. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would let her face Dryden alone.

He allowed his gaze to skate over her for a moment. Her ramrod-straight back. The way she folded her arms over her chest as if shielding herself. She hadn’t said more than two words since they’d left the church. Neither had he. There was nothing to say. Nothing to do but wait.

He breathed in the scent of her shampoo. Lavender. A calming scent. But it did nothing to loosen the tension that wound around his nerves, only added another layer to it.

If only he could turn the car around, whisk Rees far away from Dryden and FBI traps and risk. They could get lost. Someplace where neither Dryden nor the FBI could ever find them. Buy a house, raise a family—like they’d planned. Like they’d dreamed.

Impossible.

He could never turn his back on the people who needed him. He could never forget what he’d seen, what he’d felt. He’d been right to give up those dreams two years ago. And no matter how much he wished his life was different, he could never go back. He should know that by now. He should accept it.

But somehow, in the warmth of her presence, he wanted to forget everything. Wipe the last years away as if they had never happened.

The thick canopy of leaves and limbs opened into a clearing, and moonlight spilled from the sky. Set like a jewel in the center of a wide lawn stood an elegant Victorian bed-and-breakfast. Its round turret reached heavenward. Gingerbread flanked the eaves. And on the front porch, a bench swing swayed back and forth in the light breeze.

The Lilac Inn.

“It reminds me of that place on Chesapeake Bay.” Her voice descended into a whisper. “The place we were going to spend our honeymoon.”

He remembered. Too well. He’d made the reservations before he’d left for northern Wisconsin. Before he’d joined the investigation into the deaths of five young women. Before he’d ever heard the name of Ed Dryden.

Trent focused on the scene in front of him. A wide, well-groomed lawn stretched out from the house on all sides before blending into acre after acre of state forest preserve. Forest that offered seclusion so no innocent bystanders would be hurt.

The setup was perfect.

He parked the car near the front door, but didn’t move to get out. Not yet.

Next to him, Rees stared at the black outline of trees looming on the edge of the lawn and folded her arms tighter over her chest. “Do you think Dryden is out there right now?”

“I doubt it.”

“But he will be.”

“He’ll wait until he thinks we’ve relaxed our guard.”

She nodded, but she didn’t take her eyes from the blackness outside the window. “This is going to work.”

“Yes.”

“It has to.”

“It will, Risa. It will.” Trent nodded to underscore the words, and hoped he hadn’t just told them both a tragic lie.

Nikki

Nikki ground out her cigarette in a glass bowl, the butt burned all the way to the filter. It was evening again, the darkness closing in. She’d been by herself in the cabin, smoking for several hours now. She wasn’t sure how long. She couldn’t hear any sound from outside except the song of frogs along the river. Not the engine of Eddie’s car, not the thunk of his feet on the wooden steps. She supposed she should be relieved, but she couldn’t manage it.

Nikki pushed herself up from the old hide-a-bed and walked the four paces across the floor. Why couldn’t Eddie have stuck to their plan? Just hop on the interstate, drive until they couldn’t drive anymore, get lost… They would have been happy. They could have been. Nikki believed that. But now?

Now Nikki didn’t know what to do.

Risa would tell her to get out, to run, like she had at the hotel. Part of Nikki wanted to. Part of her had never been so frightened in her life. Not even the nights when her father had been drunk. Not even the nights when he’d come into her bedroom.

It had been weird hearing Risa’s voice on the hotel phone this morning. Like something from the past, back when Nikki was a different person. Ever since, she’d turned the idea of running away from her husband over and over in her mind.

She looked at the door, only a few feet away. She could open it, go down the steps, walk out into the woods, maybe follow the river until she reached a town.

Or just keep walking until she couldn’t walk anymore.

Nikki stepped to the door. She reached out, touched the knob. Over the pounding of her pulse, she heard something outside.

A car engine approaching?

The slam of a door?

Eddie?

He’d know what she’d been thinking. He’d know she doubted him. He’d be angry. What kind of wife doesn’t believe in her husband?

Did she believe?

Eddie had killed people. He’d done horrible things. Even if he had reasons for doing them, could that ever be enough?

Risa said get out. Risa said run.

But why was she listening to Risa? Why would she put any stock in what Risa wanted?

Her sister was obsessed with Eddie. She visited him, wrote about him, thought about him night and day. Nikki had seen it herself. And when Nikki had written him that first letter, Risa had gone crazy. She’d said things. Eddie was taking advantage of Nikki. Eddie could never love Nikki. Eddie was using Nikki.

As if Risa just wanted to keep Eddie all to herself.

After all, Risa always looked after herself.

There it was, the crackle of tires over gravel, the hum of an engine, the slam of a car door.

Nikki let go of the knob, and backed away. Returning to the lumpy hide-a-bed couch, she curled up on one end, tucked her feet under her, and wrapped her arms around herself.