"You know what I really need? Some puppy therapy," I say. "Petra said Storm was downstairs. Do you mind bringing her up?"
Diana goes still. I sit up, ignoring a stab of pain.
"Is she with Petra?" I ask.
More silence. Then, "She ... It happened right after Petra left. Or maybe when Petra left. I'm not blaming her. Not blaming anyone."
I tense. "Storm's gone."
"Devon is looking for her. He came by with cookies an hour ago, and I was freaking out about the puppy, so he went after her. Mathias is looking, too--he joined after I sent Devon to the butcher for scraps to lure the puppy, and Mathias joined the hunt. We'll get her back."
I push off the covers. "I need to--"
Diana stops me. "No, you don't, Casey. People are searching. It's only been a couple of hours. She slipped out somehow, and she's having a grand old time running around out there, I'm sure, but she's a puppy." She gives me a wry smile. "She's going to want her mommy soon."
"Exactly. She doesn't know Devon or Mathias well enough to come to them. I'm not running off into the forest, Diana. I'm just going to step outside and call."
"Fine. Do it from the balcony. You aren't ready for the stairs."
SIXTY-SIX
Diana's excuse about the stairs is bullshit. I've been shot in the left shoulder; I can walk just fine, even shoot just fine. That's what I argue when ten minutes of calling from the balcony doesn't bring Storm. Diana is adamant. I'm not going out into the forest.
"If she smells Eric, she might get lost trying to find him," I say. "And she has no idea how to defend herself against predators."
"No, Casey."
I lean over the balcony railing. Paul is patrolling the yard, making regular circles around the house, and as he passes again, he waves again and calls, "They'll find your pup, Casey. She's just off playing in the snow."
Snow.
My brain snags on that and again, I feel the reason should be obvious, but between the sedative and the painkillers, I feel like I'm slogging through mental molasses.
Snow. Puppy. Benjamin.
What am I miss--?
"Yes," I murmur. I turn to Diana. "Exactly how did Storm disappear?"
"We don't know. Petra said she'd put Storm in the kitchen because she kept trying to get upstairs. When I arrived, I went straight up to check on you. You seemed warm, so I took your temperature, and it was fine. Then I settled in. It was maybe a half hour later before I remembered the puppy. I'm sorry about that."
"Your priority was me, and you thought Storm was safely in the kitchen. Except she wasn't, right?"
Diana nods.
"And the backdoor was closed and locked?"
She hesitates.
"Diana...?"
"I'm walking a minefield here, Casey. You know how I feel about Petra. When I arrived in Rockton, Petra and I hung around. Then you came along, and it was just like with Will--Casey arrives, and I'm persona non grata."
I squeeze my eyes shut.
"Don't give me that look," she says. "It's true. You're the interesting one. You're the messed-up one. Somehow that combination is catnip. You came along, and suddenly Will isn't interested in a return visit to my bed and Petra's found herself a brand new friend."
Which is bullshit. Anders had a one-nighter with Diana, but even before I showed up, he'd made it clear he wasn't interested in more. He'd seen her damage and decided to steer clear. As for Petra, it was Diana who'd given her the cold shoulder, and then she got pissy when Petra and I started hanging out. But all the council-mandated therapy with Isabel isn't ever going to convince Diana she's not the wronged party.
"The back door...," I prod.
"That's what I'm getting at. You know I don't like Petra. You came here for me, and then when we had hit a rough patch, she jumped in. It's like stealing someone's husband during a trial separation. You just don't do that."
I'm not even sure where to begin untangling that mess of self-delusion.
She continues, "If I tell you that the back door was cracked open, it's going to sound like maybe I opened it and let your puppy out, just to be spiteful."
"So the back door was open."
"I would never let your dog out, Casey. Never. Whatever I've done, I haven't ever hurt anyone."
I stay silent. This isn't the time to rehash history. But she knows what I would say and responds with, "Kurt was a mistake. I didn't like the guy. I thought he was using you. The ex-con and the cop? It was an obvious setup. Either he was planning a crime and wanted your alibi or he knew you had money and was conning you."
"Neither. He was just a guy trying to put his life back--"
"Whatever. The point is that I didn't hurt him. I didn't plan for him to get hurt either. Graham hired that guy. He told me he was just supposed to scare you, wave a gun, fire a warning shot. I told myself that thug shot Kurt by accident, but you know what? I don't think it was a mistake. I think that's what Graham hired him for. He lied to me. He was playing me the whole time."
"Okay..."
"I would never hurt your dog. It's a puppy. I'm not going to open the door. Let her get eaten by bears? Hope you find her mangled corpse? That's sick. You and I have been friends for fifteen years, Case. As angry as you are you know I would never do that to any animal."
I rub my temples, trying to push back the drug fog.
"If you honestly think--" she begins.
"Diana? Stop. Please. I haven't accused you of anything. I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to think. You found the back door ajar. By how much? Enough for Storm to squeeze out?"
"No. She might be a baby, but she's a big baby. It was only open a couple of inches. I figure maybe Petra didn't quite close it, and Storm nudged it open. Then it must have shut partly behind her. There's a wind today."
Maybe so, but "wind" in Rockton is never the kind that'll slam a heavy door shut. The town's too small, hemmed in by trees.
I walk to the balcony railing and shine my flashlight down.
"If you're looking for a trail, there isn't one," Diana says. "That's the first thing I checked. But the porch is covered in prints. Paw and boot prints from people taking Storm out all night."
"Her leash gives her ten feet of room," I say. "The trick is just to find where her paws lead and no boot prints follow." I head back into the bedroom and grab a sweater and Dalton's backup gun.
"You're not--" Diana begins.
"Yep, I am. Sorry."
I head down the steps. While I'm still woozy enough that I use the railing, I'm too drugged and preoccupied to feel the pain. As I pull on my parka, my shoulder does protest, but I cover my wince.
"She must have joined up with a human trail and followed that," Diana continues. "To find her that way, you'd need a tracking dog. Which is what you will have this time next year, Casey. You'll find Storm, and you'll train her, and this will all be nothing more than a lesson learned. Devon says we need to get her a tracking implant. Which wouldn't be a bad idea for everyone here. I don't know why they haven't thought of it."
"Eric tested one. It works about as well as our damned radios." I glance over at her. "Speaking of radios, does Eric know Storm's out there?"
"I wasn't sure if I should tell--"
"No, you're right. Better to not distract him."
I'm standing in the kitchen, one hand on the back door. I stop.
Benjamin. Snow. Puppy.
I turn to Diana. "There's no actual proof Storm took off, right?"
Diana gives a slow look around the tiny kitchen. "Even a dog can't hide in this place. I think you need to go back to bed and rest--"
"I mean there's no proof she left on her own."
I walk to the window and look out. When I catch the flicker of Paul's flashlight, I back up out of his line of sight. He passes without seeing me at the window. I check my watch and then continue, "The evidence we're seeing could be equally explained by someone taking her. Lots of prints on the porch to cover footprints. Door left open enough
that she might have snuck out, but not so wide open that Paul would notice in his patrols. Someone could time Paul's patrols, lure Storm to the door, grab and dash."
"Given everything that's going on, Casey, I don't think even Jen is a big enough bitch to steal your puppy right now."
"He never left."
She peers at me. "Who?"
"Shawn Sutherland. That's why they haven't found him. He never left Rockton."
"How?"
"It was nighttime. Add in the chaos of me being shot. Everyone expects him to run for the forest. They fan out to the edges. He follows footprints back and ducks in someplace."
"Ducks in where?"
"There's no shortage of places empty here at this hour," I say. "He knows Eric and Will and the whole damned militia will be in those woods looking for him. And I'll be here, recuperating. I'll have a guard, though, and probably a nursemaid. So he needs to lure me out. What better way to do that than to steal my puppy."
She's quiet for a moment. Then she says, "I know I just complained you always seem to be the focus of attention, but are you really sure he's that obsessed with you? If he's got a chance to escape, would he really risk it to kidnap you?"
"It's not me. It's what I represent. He targeted me at first to stop me from finding him. Now he wants to punish me for it. Someone bested him and--worse--that someone is a woman. He needs to put me in my place. My place is in a hole."
"Okay," she says, and then, "Sorry. I didn't mean ... You don't normally..."
"Have an overinflated sense of my own importance? I know exactly what this guy sees in me, and it's not that I'm not the cavegirl of his dream, okay? I'm an adversary." I see the wavering beam of Paul's flashlight as it rounds the corner and I turn mine off, withdrawing from the windows. Once he passes, I check my watch. Three minutes.
"I agree with your reasoning," Diana says. "The evidence does strongly suggest your dog didn't escape. It also makes sense for Shawn to stay in Rockton. If he wants revenge, yes, he'll snatch you before he runs, thumbing his nose at Eric and Will, too. And the best way to lure you out is by taking Storm. You're doped up on painkillers, so he expects you'll go charging into the woods to find her, the capable cop turned panicked puppy-mommy." She opens the back door. "Pa--"
I slam it shut before she can finish.
"What are you doing?" she says.
"I'd ask you the same thing."
"Getting Eric on the line. Presuming the radio works. If not, we'll have to send someone to find him. We need to get his ass back here with Will so they can turn the tables on this bastard."
"Sutherland will be watching for that. Waiting for them to return. If he figures out I called Eric, he'll abandon his scheme. We'll find Storm dead outside my back door, and a few days later, we'll find Nicole's body, too. If he can't kidnap me, he'll cut his losses and punish me that way."
She's quiet for a moment. Then she says, "This is the point where I should ask you what's the alternative. But I already know it. You're going after him. Which only proves exactly what he's counting on--that you're too doped up on meds to think straight."
"I've figured out what he's up to. Where he is. What happened to Storm. You agree with my reasoning, which should prove I'm thinking just fine. That's how I catch him. By stepping into his trap ... knowing it's a trap."
I back up as Paul comes around again. Another watch check. "Three minutes. I have three minutes to get out that door and into the forest."
"You need backup."
"I would love backup. But Paul is loyal to Eric first. Same as everyone in this town."
"Except me."
I look over. Her face is half hidden in shadows.
"I don't give a damn about Eric Dalton," she says. "And you need backup. You just admitted that."
"You have zero experience providing it," I say. "I can't hand you a gun. He already managed to get mine away from me."
"I'm not letting you go into that forest alone, Casey," she says. "You take a step out that door alone, and I'll scream for Paul."
I glance at her.
"And don't think you can take me down first. You've hurt your shoulder."
I walk to a drawer and pull out a sheathed hunting blade.
Diana smiles. "Now, that's a knife. I'll take it."
"No." I hand her the knife from my pocket. She flicks the button. A three-inch blade pops out. She looks at the hunting knife.
"No," I say. "Be glad I'm arming you at all."
I take a penlight from the next drawer and hand it to her. Then I say, "I have a plan. That plan does not involve you getting within twenty feet of this maniac. If he grabs me, you will follow at a distance and see where he takes me. Note landmarks. Big rocks. Downed trees. Anything distinctive. Eric can find them."
"Okay."
"Dress warm. If he grabs me, he's going to take me a long way."
"I'm hoping this plan doesn't involve letting him grab you."
"It doesn't. I'm just covering the bases. Now, here's the plan. You don't agree? You don't come with me. You may not think I can get you into cuffs and a gag in my condition, but you don't want to test that. You know you don't."
SIXTY-SEVEN
I'm in the forest. I easily avoid Paul. We really need to give our militia serious guarding lessons, but I'm grateful for their inexperience now.
I'm out there "hunting" for my dog with low whistles and the occasional "here, girl." Diana stays in a nearby clump of bush with her penlight off. I don't like having her out here. I really don't. It seems a scenario custom-made for the obvious switcheroo--where Benjamin decides to grab my friend instead, leaving me forever blaming myself for having done something so incredibly stupid.
There's no sign of Storm or Benjamin, and as I hunt, my anxiety over Diana grows. Is my judgment more impaired by the drugs than I thought? If anything happens to her--
A figure moves behind a tree up ahead. I freeze and say, "Storm?" though it obviously isn't. I'm playing my role. Even adding a waver to my voice.
When the figure doesn't answer, I say, "Girl? Is that you?"
The figure steps out and gestures wildly, as if telling me to be quiet. Then he pulls back his hood, and there's just enough moonlight for me to recognize him.
Mathias.
I groan under my breath. I turn in Diana's direction and motion that it's okay, this isn't Benjamin. Then I gesture for Mathias to come closer as I slide into a thick grouping of trees.
He glances around and motions me down, and I move into a crouch. He does the same as he reaches me.
"I hope you are not out here alone," he whispers in French. "No, you aren't that foolish. Diana is near, I presume?" Again, he doesn't wait for an answer. "This is a very bad idea, Casey."
"Storm will come to me. She knows me."
He gives me a hard look. "Do not insult me by pretending you are looking for your dog. You're out here for the person who took your dog. Our killer."
I start to protest, but his look only hardens, and I say, "I have to. It's the only way I'm going to catch him."
Mathias scours left and then right, and the look in his eyes ... I watch them and I feel as if I'm not seeing Mathias. No, I feel as if I am seeing him, for perhaps the first time.
In Mathias's gaze, I see the eagle-eyed attention Dalton or Cypher gives the forest. The apex predator surveying his domain.
But it's not the same. In Cypher, it's the look of a grizzly, the lone bear who thunders through the forest, relying on sheer might to scare everything from his path. In Dalton, it's the look of an alpha wolf, more cautious, always aware of the pack at his rear, those he's sworn to protect. And Mathias...?
If I asked Dalton and Cypher what's the most dangerous predator in those woods, neither would hesitate. That cougar. The big cat that prowls, silent and invisible, leaping unseen through the treetops. The one you won't see until she's the last thing you see. That's Mathias. I see that look in his eyes, and every hair on my neck goes up.
"Yes," he says,
and it takes me a moment to remember what we'd been talking about. "Yes, it is the best way to catch him. Also, the most dangerous. He already shot you, Casey. Already escaped from Eric."
"That's because--"
"It's because he's very good at what he does. And it's more. It's because he's not like the killers you're accustomed to. Not like Elizabeth Lowry. Not like William Anders. Not like you." Those hairs seem electrified now, a solid jolt of genuine fear coursing through me.
"I would never hurt William," he says. Then he meets my gaze. "That's what you're thinking, isn't it? Not, My God, Mathias knows my secret, and he'll hurt me. That isn't your first concern. Like for Eric and William, others come first. With Eric, that is natural instinct. For you and William, it's penance--you don't deserve to be first. Whatever the reason, it's why you cannot catch this killer. He cares for nothing but his self. His self, not himself. Do you know the difference?"
I shake my head.
"He cares only about serving his id and his ego, even at the possible price of his life. He will do anything to win. To defeat you. To punish you. To salvage his sense of self."
"So how does that help me catch him?"
"It doesn't. It only means that he can be caught. That he'll fall for your trickery, and honestly believe you're stumbling through the forest in search of your lost puppy. It also, means, though, that Diana is of no use to you. He'll target her if he can. But me? No. Our Mr. Sutherland is afraid of me." Mathias smiles. "Perhaps for good reason."
"So you're offering to be my backup?"
"Yes. But you don't trust me, not after I just admitted I know what you have done. I might not have killed these women, but what if I turn my attention on you, decide you deserve to be taken by this man? That makes no sense, though. If I have done what you think I have, then I would not decide your crime warrants slow death in a deep hole."
I meet his gaze. "And what does my crime deserve?"
"Exactly what you're doing to repay it. A life in service. Same as William. A life using your skills to protect others."
"What exactly do you know?"
"Not a thing. I'm merely guessing."
That's bullshit. The council must have told him our backstories, as two of those potentially violent offenders he's supposed to monitor.
He continues. "I will help you catch this imposter and get Nicole back. That is more in keeping with what you believe I've done, yes?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just says, "Go send Diana back. Tell her to enter through the rear and come out the front door and talk to Paul. Keep him occupied."