Chapter Twenty

Maggie moved her clothes from the Laundromat washing machine to the dryer like a robot.

Serial. That’s the word Koda had used last night, speaking to her as if she were just another citizen now. Professional, but distant. The events that were taking place in Wolfe Creek had all the earmarks of being connected, he’d said. It’s all speculation at this point, but I think it’ll end up being a serial case.

She’d sat there stunned, unable to believe what he was saying. Another disappearance. And this time the poor girl had been murdered and dumped in a creek two miles down the mountain. She hadn’t been from Wolfe Creek, but the fact that her body had been discarded so close was enough for everyone. Including the police. She’d been partially clothed but her bra had been missing.

Their heated discussion not five minutes before had been the proverbial elephant in the room. She wondered about Zane. He couldn’t forgive her. And that was that.

“I think you should leave now,” Koda had said. “It’s getting too dangerous here. I think we can at least agree on that part.”

She’d looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving again.”

And that’s how they’d left each other last night. He’d been angry, calling her foolish. And maybe she was. But if this was the same person responsible for Aimee’s disappearance, he was getting savagely bold. That meant they were getting close. She could feel it. Even if it meant sacrificing her own safety, she had to see this through. She’d come too far to walk away now. They all had.

Her mother was beside herself, of course. Her whole family was. But Maggie had put her head down and dug in.

She’d argued to all of them, including Koda, that if this was a serial murderer in the making, there would be national attention now. And there was some security in that. He wouldn’t strike again so soon. And at that, Koda had slammed his hand down on the table last night, rattling the silverware.

“I’m not leaving,” she’d said softly.

His anger had actually been a comfort. Because even though he was now decidedly cool, and had made sure to point out that he was only doing his job by wanting to keep her safe just like everyone else, she knew he wouldn’t have been as furious with anyone else, either.

Twenty-four hours later, despite everything, despite promising him she’d stay indoors and keep visiting with anyone to a minimum, life plowed on, and she had underwear to wash.

She looked out the window to the misty fog rolling in, and touched the canister of mace in her pocket. There was still a full hour of daylight left and Ara had known where she was going, when she was due back. Koda was on duty, busy to the point of exhaustion with everything that was happening, but had made a point to check on her earlier.

“I’m fine,” she’d said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “I’ve got the pepper spray you gave me and I’ll be on my toes. Promise.”

“I wish you’d go.”

“I know. But I can’t. I feel like I’d be failing her twice. And I can’t live with that.”

He nodded, hands in his jacket pockets, his posture aloof, which broke her heart a little. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted to go back to where they’d been the other night. Folded in his arms, feeling his breath on her neck. But that seemed so far away now. Painfully far.

She wondered what it might be like with Koda without this black shadow hovering over them all the time. For just a moment she let herself picture a time, maybe in the not so distant future, where she could walk with him hand in hand down the curious sidewalks of Wolfe Creek. Sidewalks that used to represent a fear of the unknown, the unexplored. But were now possible pathways to another life. One where there was no murderer in their midst, or painful mystery refusing to be solved. For a blessed second, she envisioned the two of them not with dark days ahead, laced with fog and uncertainty like they so often were. But sunny ones, happy ones. Ones with a promise of warmth for them both.

She’d closed her eyes for a second, unable to look at him. It wasn’t smart to imagine these things now. It was dangerous to want something that may never be.

“As soon as I’m done here,” she’d finally said, “I’ll go back to the Inn.”

“Call me when you get to your room?”

“I will.”

He’d hesitated then, like he wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. She waited, watching the way his mouth parted slightly, then closed. She’d wanted so badly to stand on her tiptoes and kiss him. To feel his body against hers, so strong and reassuring. But she wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have pushed her away, and at that moment, it would’ve killed her.

So she stood there, absolutely still except for her wobbly knees. She held her breath, hoping for a word or a touch, or anything that would make the ache in her throat go away. But whatever he’d been wanting to say or do, he thought better of it and took a step back.

She smiled to hide her disappointment. “So I’ll call you soon,” she’d said.

And then he was gone, pulling away in his SUV and leaving her alone in the empty Laundromat.

Sitting now in one of the flimsy plastic chairs, she stared at her clothes tumbling in the dryer. She’d finished crying ten minutes ago. Or so she thought. A few leftover tears made their way down her face as if to prove a long-standing point. You’re not as strong as you pretend to be, Maggie, they seemed to say.

Around and around her clothes went. They fell on top of each other, only to be tossed about again, a virtual tornado of cotton blends and polyester. One of her bras was briefly thrown against the glass before disappearing into the sea of other clothes. She shuddered, wiping her eyes. So the guy had a thing for keeping his victim’s bras. Sick bastard.

She hugged herself, lost in thought. Behind her, the door opened with a whisper of frigid air and she turned.

Zane Wolfe walked in, looking dark and out of place in the brightly lit room. He wore an old leather jacket and a black wool hat, which was pulled down low, half concealing his eyes. He stopped in the middle of the room, his chilly gaze intent on only her.

Her skin prickled, and she took an involuntary step back.

“Ara said you were down here.”

“Yeah.” She tried to smile, but couldn’t get her lips to fully cooperate. Her hands were sweaty inside her jacket pockets. “I couldn’t put off laundry anymore.”

“I’m surprised you’d come down here alone. Doesn’t seem very smart to me.”

Maggie looked beyond him and out the window to the foggy, deserted street. Not a soul out there. She was all alone. Alone with a man who could very well be a serial killer. A man whose expression could only be read as naked aggression.

She wrapped her fingers around the canister in her pocket and felt close to panicking.

“Just so you know,” he said. “I never thought it was a good idea for you to be hanging around here. But honestly, I never thought you’d stay this long. Be so persistent.”

She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“You’re determined,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Or just stupid.”

“Maybe.”

“My brother.” His voice was soft. “His judgment seems to be clouded at the moment.”

She gripped the pepper spray harder.

“He knows it’s not safe for you here. And he knew you’d bring trouble. That’s a fucking fact.”

“I don’t—”

“But now that he’s thinking with his dick,” Zane continued, “he can’t seem to remember that long enough to send you packing.”

“I can’t leave.”

“You should.”

“I can’t.”

They stared at each other for a long moment with the dryer whirring in the background.

Zane smiled, devilishly handsome. Maggie almost forgot she should be afraid of him. Almost.

“Well, Maggie Sullivan,” he said. “I don’t know that you’re thinking clearly either.”

“I haven’t for a while now.”

He nodded. The tension between them was unbearable. Maggie’s heart slammed against her chest with such intensity, it was making it hard to breathe.

Behind them the door opened. An elderly woman shuffled in holding an armful of clothes. She gave them a toothy smile before making her way to a washing machine on the other side of the room.

Zane watched her pass and then turned his black eyes on Maggie again. The relief she’d felt was short-lived. There was something about those eyes. Something that made her want to cower like a small dog.

“Anyway,” he said shifting slightly and appearing to relax a fraction. “I just thought I’d come by to check on you. Make sure you’re okay, since you’re hell-bent on staying.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Check on her? She stared at him, letting the words settle. Her pulse skipped in her wrists. Beside them the dryer whirred, an occasional zipper banging against the hot metal inside. And then, very slowly, what he’d said began to sink in.

He turned to go.

“Zane,” she heard herself say.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder. His long hair shone like the hide of a mink.

“Thank you.”

His face seemed to soften a little. Or maybe that was just her imagination.

“No problem,” he said.

Koda turned on his blinker and merged onto the freeway. He reached for his coffee, spilling some on his hand and letting loose a stream of profanities in the process.

He hated leaving town like this, even for a little while, but there was a possible lead in Splendor Pass that couldn’t wait. Patrol was beefed up in Wolfe Creek for the night, and people were being watchful, so that made him feel a little better. But not much.

He thought of Maggie and how she’d looked when he’d left her. So pretty, so full of love and life. The urge to stay had been practically overwhelming. The need to keep her close and safe even more so. But he’d had to remind himself that he had a job to do, and that a lot of people were counting on him. He told himself that with the precautions they were all taking, Maggie would be just fine, and that he’d be back in town in no less than an hour anyway. Still, an uneasy feeling kept nagging at him, making him shift in his seat repeatedly.

Picking up his coffee again, he blew on it before taking a sip. He’d been so angry with her last night that he’d shut off like a switch. Every time he thought about their argument over dinner, he’d block it out, feeling dangerously reactive. But now, making his way down the twists and turns of the mountainside, the nagging feeling continued, until it was like a couple of rough fingernails scratching behind his ear.

He knew Zane wasn’t capable of any of this. He knew it. Yet, Maggie’s doubt refused to give him any peace. Ever since she’d pulled out that T-shirt and set it on the table, Koda had been feeling off. There were questions where his brother was concerned that he’d been ignoring. Consciously or subconsciously, he’d been pushing them aside, choosing to let his love for Zane override his duty as a deputy. If it had been anyone other than his brother, would he have picked up the lighter from Candi’s floor that morning and put it in his pocket? He knew the answer to that, and it made him sick.

The reality was, he felt torn. Torn between loyalty to his baby brother, and the oath he’d taken to protect those who needed him most. And wasn’t Maggie at the top of that list? She needed him. Desperately. And he’d turned his back on her because he didn’t want to see what was right in front of his face. The fact that Zane had a history of less than stable behavior, and there was evidence now, circumstantial or not, that at least warranted some further attention. If he was Maggie, he’d be demanding it, too.

Koda’s duty belt dug into the side of his hip, and he shifted again trying to get comfortable. All of a sudden it felt too tight, and he wished he could shrug it off. Along with all of the pain and worry and responsibility he’d been carrying around since childhood. He loved Zane. But he’d never understand him. He’d never know exactly what was going on inside his head, and that thought made him shiver despite the warmth of the SUV.

He picked up his cell, and dialed A’s number, tapping his finger impatiently on the steering wheel while it rang.

“Hello?”

“A, it’s me.”

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine. But I need to talk to Zane. I’d try his phone, but he never has it on him. Is he around?”

“He was, but he left a few minutes ago.”

The darkening landscape outside the SUV passed in a foggy blur. The mist grew thick and watery against the windshield and Koda turned on the wipers with a sudden sense of dread.

“Where’d he go?”

“It was strange,” Ara said. “He went looking for Maggie.”

Maggie opened the door to the dryer and dug out the still-damp clothes. Stuffing them in her laundry bag, she looked out the window as if expecting to see someone standing there looking in. A shadow moved at the corner of her eye and she whipped around, but no one was there. Just like the last time she’d looked thirty seconds ago. She took an even breath. Great. You’re seeing things now, Maggie.

With trembling hands, she stuffed the last of her clothes in the bag. It was getting dark now with the fog rolling in, and she had no interest in staying there past dark. She’d get back to the Inn, check with Ara, and head upstairs to call Koda. She could hardly wait for the comfort of her little room with the furnace blowing gently in the corner.

Balancing the laundry bag under one arm, she waved to the elderly woman who was engrossed in her needlepoint. Maggie opened the door and walked into the early evening mist, feeling its tiny beads of moisture cling to her face. The town sat quiet, unusually so, and the uneasiness she’d felt in the Laundromat followed her down the sidewalk.

By the time she reached the front steps of the Inn, she hurried to get inside. With one more look behind her, she shut the front door harder than she’d intended.

“Ara?”

The front desk was empty. Maggie walked past and looked around the corner into the dining room, but there was no one there either.

Clutching the bag of clothes, she headed into the parlor where the normally roaring fire was nothing but embers.

The shadows shifted, and she saw a movement to her left. She sucked in a breath and whirled around.

“Hello, Maggie.”