Nikki’s fingers shook. She tried three times to grasp the man’s zipper before she got hold. She didn’t want to do this. She wasn’t even sure what this was. But the way Eddie was looking at her, she could tell it was turning him on. She couldn’t disappoint him.
She inched the man’s fly down, then reached in and touched warm, firm flesh.
The man’s body arched. He tilted his head back. A horrible sound erupted from his throat. Then he slumped forward, falling heavily on top of Nikki, warmth flowing over her skin.
Nikki couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t do anything but stare. She looked up at Eddie, a knife in his hand, a look on his face she didn’t recognize.
A shuddering rasp came from the man.
A whimpering sound filled the car.
“Shut up,” Eddie said. He had to repeat himself before Nikki realized the whimper was coming from her.
Eddie rifled through the man’s pockets, pulling out his wallet and a set of car keys. Then he grabbed the man’s arms, lifting his weight off her. “Get out of the car. Now.”
Nikki wasn’t sure how she managed to move, but the next thing she knew, she was out from under the stranger’s body. Her skin was wet, covered in blood, and the June dawn felt cold. Shivers racked her muscles. Her legs felt weak.
Eddie picked up the man’s legs, shoved him fully into the car, and slammed the door. Then he grabbed her upper arm and propelled her toward the open garage. “I wonder if he lives alone.”
Risa
Risa leaned against one of the government-beige walls in the entrance of the prison. Like all the other times she’d ventured inside the razor wire, the lack of light and air made her lungs constrict and her heart pound. But it was what she’d seen in Dryden’s cell that made her really uncomfortable.
She’d known Nikki was in danger since the day she’d married Ed Dryden, but seeing what he’d left for her had been different. All the research Risa had done into the criminal mind, all the horror stories she’d heard while surveying Dryden and other offenders, none of it had prepared her to face the blood on that photograph. The slit down the middle of Nikki’s body. The threat made personal. Real.
But the worst part was that Risa had let Dryden get to her. She’d insisted she didn’t need protection, that she could handle whatever Dryden had planned, and the truth was, she couldn’t.
Thank God, she hadn’t fainted. If she had, Trent probably would have shipped her off in an ambulance and ordered the doctors to sequester her in the hospital until Nikki was rescued. Or until it was too late. At least here, she could talk to the guards and do some general fact gathering on her own. She might still be able to help.
She sighed and looked up at Gordy. Even before he’d phoned to inform her of Nikki’s secret wedding, the guard had taken her under his wing. And judging by the way he hovered over her, he was nearly as protective as Trent.
Noticing her gaze on him, Gordy laid his hand on her arm, his big mitt making it look as fragile as a toothpick. “I’m real sorry about what happened, Professor.”
She looked into his weary eyes. “Thanks, Gordy. That means a lot to me.”
“Anything I can do to help, you let me know.”
Risa glanced around the entrance to the prison, at the barred doors leading to inner corridors guarded by more barred doors. Despite the warden’s moans about funding for extra guards and security measures, the prison seemed awfully secure. Risa couldn’t imagine how a prisoner could break out. Not without inside help.
No doubt, an angle the sheriff’s office was following up on. But a few more questions couldn’t hurt. “Actually, there is something, Gordy. A few things I’m wondering about.”
“Shoot.”
“How well did you know Dryden?”
Gordy’s mouth curled in distaste. “Know him?”
“Did you ever talk to him? Have any personal contact with him?”
“I don’t talk to scum.”
“Never?”
“Not any more than I have to. I sure don’t know him.”
“Are any of the other COs friendly with prisoners? Or more specifically, were any friendly with Dryden?”
“No one comes to mind.”
“Can you think of anyone who would have reason to help Dryden?”
Surprise registered on Gordy’s face. “Help him?”
“He couldn’t have gotten into that garbage truck without someone looking the other way.”
Gordy’s bushy brows turned down. “I think you got it wrong. No one would help someone like him. He must have gotten out on his own.”
“It seems like it would be impossible.”
Gordy’s big shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.
“Dryden is a master manipulator.”
Gordy shook his head.
“He manipulated my sister.”
“I can’t—” His cheeks and neck reddened.
“Imagine anyone being deluded enough to marry him? Neither can I.” Heaviness bore down on Risa’s shoulders. “But it happened. And he could have manipulated someone here into helping him escape, too.”
“The best thing that could happen would be if somebody took Dryden out while he’s on the loose.” His voice dropped and shadows darkened his eyes. “He didn’t give those girls he killed a chance—hunting them down and gutting them like deer. And the guy who worked for the sanitation company? Awful. Dryden don’t deserve to live. Not one more day. Not even in a hellhole like this.”
Risa barely kept herself from nodding in agreement. Wisconsin wasn’t a death-penalty state, and she had always been against allowing the government to execute its citizens. But in this case, with a man like Ed Dryden, she could almost justify strapping him to a table and sticking a needle in his arm.
She didn’t know what that said about her, but she was sure it wasn’t good.
Footsteps echoed through the corridor, growing louder, nearer. The barred door slid open and Trent strode through, carrying a cardboard box. Detective Cassidy followed.
“Did you find anything more?”
“Not much.” Trent paused only to sign out at the entrance desk. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine. Embarrassed.”
Trent retrieved his gun and headed for the exit. “Good. Because we’re going to do things my way from here on out. The Lake Loyal police chief is waiting for you.”
The guard touched her on the arm on her way out. “Take care, Professor. If I come up with anybody who might have helped Dryden, I’ll let you know.”
Giving the guard a parting nod, Risa followed Trent out into the first light of dawn.
Trent
The Lake Loyal police station had to be one of the smallest Trent had yet seen, and he’d visited a lot of them. Carved out of a corner of the village hall, the department consisted of a countertop jammed with computer equipment that served as the dispatch center, cubicles the color of faded Pepto Bismol that served as office space for everyone other than the chief, a closet-sized breakroom, and a conference room shared with the village board where County Detective Cassidy and boxes of old files waited for Trent’s attention.
Less than two hours, and he would be briefing an emergency task force assembled to find Dryden. Two hours to come up with ideas on where Dryden had gone and proactive strategies for luring him into the open. Better get to work.
Hesitating at the door, Trent glanced back to where Risa sat at one of the pink cubicles, her eyes riveted on her hands, folded in her lap. Her complexion was still ghostly, but at least she’d regained a little color since she’d seen the mutilated photo of her sister.
Or maybe it was just a change in the lighting.