An owl hooted as I locked the vehicle, and a larger animal crashed through the brush to my left. It wouldn’t have been any better at a motel. There’s no place safe as long as Salyer is alive. At least here I can’t hurt anyone but myself.
I took the picture of Emma from the visor and forced myself to walk inside slowly then closed and locked the door. My hands shook as I located a glass, poured in whiskey, and turned off all the lights. It only took a moment for my eyes to adjust. I closed the drapes on the picture window overlooking the back lawn and flopped onto the couch. My eyelids were growing heavy from lack of sleep the night before, the stress of everything that had happened that day, and the long drive. I need to sleep. After downing the liquor, I placed the glass on the floor and stretched out, my fingers wrapped around the picture of Emma. If the nightmares came, I was ready for them.
“You’re not doing it right.” Christian grabbed my wrist and dipped the brush into the paint. “Didn’t Mother teach you anything?”
“She died when I was five.” He was holding Emma too tightly. “Please, Christian, let me hold her.”
He raised her up and smiled. “We’ll teach you how to do it right the first time.” He transferred her to his hip and held out the knife. “Kill her.”
“I can’t.”
He placed Emma on the floor, grabbed my hand, and wrapped my fingers around the knife. “Kill her, or I’ll kill Emma.”
I lifted my eyes to the body swaying in front of me. She was already dead. All I had to do was shove the knife in and walk away. “I can’t!”
“Wake up!”
The scream reverberated inside my head as I rolled off the couch onto my hands and knees and vomited until nothing was left but dry heaves. I leaned against the couch, pulled my knees to my chest, wrapped my arms around them, and rocked. “Don’t look at me.” Tears began to flow. “I’m ugly inside.”
21
“Take all the time you need, Gabe.” Don Sampson held out a sheet. “This just came over the wire. I think you need to see it.”
Gabriel read the sheet related to bones discovered in a grave near the Broad River. “It can’t be Salyer. Dakota said he fell into the river and swam to shore.”
“The body was never found. I know you care about this woman, but you need to face the fact that she’s not stable and she could have lied.”
Gabriel tossed the paper onto the desk. “It doesn’t make sense. If she killed and buried him, then why is she still looking for him?”
“You said she suffered from DID. Maybe she’s remembering what some part of her wants her to remember.”
“There’s the video with James Day and the paint on Amanda Clark’s nails. The report showed it matched the same paint Salyer used on the women he killed.”
“Take the report with you. I’ll call you once the DNA results on the bones are in. If it is Salyer…”
Don didn’t finish the sentence, but Gabriel knew what he was thinking. If the bones were Salyer’s, then Dakota had lied about everything. She could even be involved in Angelina Clark’s murder. The thought sickened him. If Dakota was involved, then Max would be too. So who the hell do I trust?
He picked up the sheet, folded it, and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. “We’re heading to Beaufort as soon as I pack. I’ll let you know where we’re going from there.”
“Gabe, be careful. There’s a killer out there, even if it isn’t Salyer.”
“You know me, Don. I’m always careful. Karen’s due to arrive later tonight. She can stay at my house. I’ll call her when I can.”
He clenched and unclenched his hands as he headed for the front, where Max was waiting. He needed two things before they left town—a carton of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey.
The sun was rising when I raised my head and gently stretched my arms and legs. My body was stiff and painful from the tight tension and cramped position. I took a moment to get my bearings, my gaze drifting around the room and coming to rest on the vomit next to me. The nightmares weren’t really nightmares that time. I knew why Christian had led me to Charleston. He’d taken me there after Emma was born. A body was buried somewhere out back, a young jogger that had crossed our path. She was another innocent victim of his need to destroy anything pure and innocent. He’d made me watch as he butchered her. I’d vomited then, too, and the next day, Emma was gone.
I massaged my hands and legs until I felt strong enough to walk then stumbled to the kitchen, cleaned the coffee maker, and started a pot. A hot bath would take care of the rest of the aches and pains. I didn’t kill her. I didn’t kill anyone.
After pouring a cup of coffee, I walked outside. It didn’t look quite as eerie in the daylight. I would have to call in the murder, though I would be considered an accomplice since I’d never reported it. No one would believe I’d forgotten something that horrible, especially since they knew Salyer was still alive. I forced myself to walk around the cabin. At least I knew why I’d buried that memory. I was afraid of what they would find when they found the body, afraid that Emma was buried there too. She isn’t. She’s alive.
I scanned the area around the cabin. Salyer was there somewhere, watching. I could feel him. “You were wrong, Christian. Bringing me back here didn’t break me or send me back to hell. I’m not scared anymore. I faced the ugliness inside me, and I won. You lose. Yes, I will die for my daughter.”
Returning to the cabin, I left the door unlocked. I knew him better than he knew me. He wouldn’t come, not yet. The landlord had promised to remove all mirrors, but people didn’t always do what they promised. I might have faced the ugliness inside, but I wasn’t ready to face the images in the mirrors, even though I knew the images weren’t real. I flipped on the light in the bathroom and breathed a sigh of relief. No mirrors. I did a quick scrub of the bathtub, started the hot water running, and poured in bath oil. I would clean the vomit, grab another cup of coffee, and relax until the last of my muscles stopped aching. After that, I would call Max and Gabriel. The press would be cruel, and I didn’t expect the local authorities to handle me with kid gloves. I’ve survived worse. I’ll survive this too. I have to, for Emma.
22
Gabriel forced himself to finish the breakfast Mrs. Dickson had prepared. Max was antsy, and Gabriel could tell he wanted to talk, but they had agreed to say nothing in front of the staff.
“That was delicious, Mrs. Dickson. Thank you.”
“Would you like more coffee?” The older lady smiled at him. “Isn’t often we get to cook for more than ourselves anymore.”