They searched the entire house, but found nothing. No Anna.
"Roman won't be at his place. He'll know that's the first place we'll look."
"So where is he?"
"Fuck if I know."
Dante found Anna's cell under the sofa, along with the cap from a syringe.
"He drugged her. Fuck."
Gabe held up her cell. "Can't track her this way, and I imagine Roman's already ditched his."
Pushing his fear aside, Dante reminded himself to think like he was on a mission, not like a man in love and scared to death he was going to lose his woman. "He's knocked her out. Where is he going to take her? He has no other family, no other property that we know of. And it's not like he can just throw an unconscious woman over his shoulder and walk her into a hotel, so his choices are going to be limited."
Dante had to try to think like Roman, which was going to be hard. They used to be close as...brothers. He knew his every move. Now? Hell, the only person he'd really connected deeply with since he'd been back was Anna. "He has no close friends that I know of, but I've been gone."
Gabe shrugged. "He works. And he goes home. That's all I know about him. Anna would know more."
"That's not helpful."
"Sorry, man. But we'll find him."
"Wait. His car has a GPS unit. All the detectives' cars do."
"We couldn't be that lucky. He wouldn't be that sloppy or forgetful."
"Wouldn't he?" Dante grabbed Anna's laptop and logged onto the local system, waited for it to come up. "He's desperate right now. All his plans have gone to shit. He's not thinking clearly. If he's got Anna, he probably hasn't had time to change vehicles."
He entered Roman's unit number and waited for it to come up. When it did, he smiled. "Bingo. Who lives on the Hill?"
"No one I know," Gabe said. "Oh, wait. Anna told me once that Tess has a house there. Maybe she does exist."
"Do you think she's in on it with him?"
Gabe shot him a look of distaste. "God, I hope not."
"What's her last name?"
"Shit. I don't know. Let me think. Jameson, maybe? No. Jackson. That's it. She inherited the house from her parents."
"You know more about her than you thought."
Gabe shrugged. "Bits and pieces. Only because it was unusual for Roman to stick to any one woman for a long period of time."
Dante looked up the address. "Got it."
He didn't want to think about Roman being obsessed with Anna. Why hadn't she told him? Was she even aware of it?
"Let's go. We'll call Pohanski on the way and let him know where she is."
Anna batted away the cobwebs, trying hard to open her eyes. She was so tired, felt as if she'd had four or five tequila shots followed by several beers.
Had she partied last night? What time was it, anyway?
She tried to sit up, but she couldn't. Something restrained her.
She blinked to open her eyes. Seeing was a problem, and the room spun. She tried to get a grip, to focus on something, but it was all so blurry.
Whoa. Nausea rose up and she squeezed her eyes shut again, wishing she could roll over and bring her knees to her chest.
She did not feel good. At. All.
"The nausea will go away soon. Here, drink some water."
Her eyes shot open at the whisper in her ear.
Roman.
Instant clarity brought it all back to her, the haze disappearing like a sudden gust of wind blowing away the last of the fog.
Roman had come over, said Gabe had shot at him. Dante had gone after Gabe. Then Roman had--
She tried to speak, but her mouth was full of dry cotton.
"Drink."
She didn't want to drink anything he gave her.
He took a sip. "It's not drugged, honey. I promise. Now, drink." He put the glass to her lips.
She was so thirsty. She sipped, water spilling onto the sheets. She didn't care.
"Not too much or you'll get sick."
Now that her vision had cleared, she looked around. Her arms were over her head and she was tied to the iron bars of a bed. She glared at Roman.
"You drugged me."
He looked sad. Regretful. "I know. I'm sorry. I hadn't planned to do it this way, but things got out of control."
"I don't know what you're talking about. And I can't feel my hands. This hurts."
He looked pained. "They do? Let me untie you. Don't run."
"I'm not going to run, Roman. I just want to talk."
He took out a knife and she suppressed a shudder as he slit through the ropes at her wrists, releasing her from the bed. She rubbed her wrists, wincing as the circulation flowed back.
"You're going to be dizzy and weak for a while until the drug wears off. Don't try to get up."
She shifted to sit and scooted back against the pillows. "I just want to sit."
He backed away and crouched on the floor, rolling the knife around in his hands. He wielded the knife in and out through his fingers like an expert. She expected him to cut himself--the blade was sharp--but he obviously knew what he was doing as he watched her and played with the knife.
She focused on her surroundings. The bedroom was dark, so she couldn't make out much. She was in someone's house, but whose? This wasn't Roman's place.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"A house."
"Whose house?"
"That's not important. When you're feeling up to moving around, I'll show you. I want you to like it."
Why was it important to him that she like the house? "I need to know whose house this is, Roman."
The look he gave her was earnest, his expression that of a little boy eager to please. "It's our house."
Oh, shit. "Ours?"
"Or it will be as soon as you give your approval."
She wanted to object, to tell him it would never be their house, but she sensed how fragile his grasp on reality was, so she played along. "I'm sure it's going to be great if you picked it out for us."
"I've been planning this a long time."
"Have you? Tell me about it." She inched her feet to the side of the bed, letting her legs slide over the edge.
He watched her and frowned. "What are you doing?"
"I need to swing my legs back and forth so I can get some circulation going in them. Is that okay with you?"
He shrugged. "I guess so."
She moved her legs to show him what she was doing. "Tell me about the rest of the house."
"It's a two-bedroom. Not very big, but a nice place to start out. It's an older house--it's on the Hill--nice neighbors and a real friendly place. I'm sure you're going to like it a lot."
"I'm sure I will. I like the Hill a lot. Tess has a cute little house on the Hill, as I remember."
He frowned. "Yeah, she did."
Did? What did that mean? "What happened between you and Tess, Roman? You told me things were going well."
He lifted his gaze to hers. "She wasn't you. She was in the way."
Goose bumps broke out on her skin at the look he gave her. She shivered at the intensity of his gaze, at the way it bored into her, as if she was everything to him--everything he'd ever wanted.
He was insane. Totally and completely gone.
How had she not seen his obsession before? Had he really been that good at hiding it, or had she just not wanted to see it?
He functioned normally. He was a good detective. But she knew a lot of psychopaths functioned as normal productive members of society.
Until they killed.
"Roman, where's Tess?"
He wouldn't meet her gaze, just kept rolling the knife between his fingers.
"Roman," she said, her voice sharp in command. "Tell me where Tess is."
His gaze snapped to hers. "She's...gone."
The man looking at her now wasn't the Roman she thought she knew. His easygoing smile was gone, replaced instead by a heated passion she'd never seen before. And it was directed at her
.
And now she knew. He'd killed George, Jeff and her father. She didn't understand why. And where was Tess? Poor Tess, who'd done nothing wrong except for not being Anna.
Hatred for Roman filled her. He'd beaten them all to death. Jeff. Her father, who had patiently worked with Roman and gotten him into the police academy. He'd killed a fellow police officer, too. And likely a sweet, innocent woman. He'd slaughtered them all, killed them all with his bare hands.
Just like she wanted to leap off the bed and kill Roman right now.
She tried not to think about any of that because she needed to get out of this alive.
Because if she got out of this alive, Roman would pay for what he'd done.
"When can we go see the rest of the house, Roman?"
He looked around. "You don't like this room?"
"I don't know. It's kind of dark in here, so I can't see much."
He grinned like a little boy. "Oh. Sorry. Let me turn on a light."
He stood and came toward her, the knife held out in front of him. It was the same one she'd seen held by her attacker in her backyard.
Her attacker had been Roman. The person who'd left her the flowers and the notes had been Roman.
It had all been Roman. Roman, who had played along with them, shocked and tearful when George and Jeff had died. Compassionate when her father had been killed. And all this time it had been him.
She'd never seen it coming.
It was going to take everything inside her not to leap at him and dig her fingers in his eyes, to try to wrestle the knife from him and stab him with it. Violent rage filled her, but she had to play it cool, had to keep her anger under control until the time was right.
He turned on the small lamp on the table next to the bed. It cast enough light in the room that she could see him. He crouched next to the bed.
"Better?"
She forced an easy smile. "Much better. Thanks."
"Need another drink?"
"No, I'm good right now."
"Okay."
He was quiet, so she sat and tried to get her bearings. With every minute that went by, the fuzziness in her head cleared. But she had no idea how she'd feel physically if she needed to run. She had to test it.
"Roman, I need to go to the bathroom."
He chewed on his lower lip, then motioned with his head toward the door at the other end of the room. "There's one in there. You can't get away. Window's too small."
"I'm not trying to get away. I just have to use the bathroom."
He stood, held the knife out. "Go ahead. Leave the door open."
Great. She'd at least be able to stand up and test her legs. "Okay, thanks."
She slid off the bed. A little wobbly at first, but not dizzy. She took slow steps toward the bathroom and went in, turned on the light. Small bathroom, one vanity. Very feminine.
She eased the shower curtain aside and smothered a gasp as she saw Tess lying in the tub, fully clothed and bloodied, a cut across her throat, her lifeless eyes staring up at Anna. She had ligature marks across her wrists and ankles, dried blood there as if she'd been tied up for a long time. There was bruising, too.
Jesus, how long had he kept her prisoner in her own home? Hadn't someone missed her?
How long had she been dead? Not long, from the looks of her.
Hands shaking, Anna realized she was going to have to keep up a normal front or Roman would likely slip into his delusion completely, and then she'd be in deep trouble. Her stomach clenched when she thought about Tess.
She came out of the bathroom, startled to find Roman leaning against the doorway just outside.
"Oh, hi," she said, skirting around him to head back toward the bed. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.
"Anna."
She closed her eyes for a brief second, praying Dante and Gabe figured out in a hurry what had happened. They were smart. They'd find her.
She turned to face him. "Yes?"
"I'm in love with you."
She lifted her chin. "I love you, too, Roman. But I'm feeling a little dizzy right now. Is it okay if I sit down?"
He frowned, looked as if he didn't believe her. She let her body begin to shake and started to sag. He wrapped an arm around her. "Yeah, right. Forgot about the drug. Let's get you back to bed. Maybe you need to lay down again."
"I'm okay," she said as he got her to the edge and she sat. "I just need to sit for a few more minutes."
Long enough for the cops to come. For Dante to get here.
For someone to put a bullet in your head, you sick bastard.
Fortunately he sat her on the side of the bed facing the window, so he snugged up against the wall underneath it. The shades were closed, but her position gave her a vantage point now. And with the light on, maybe someone would see her silhouette. Maybe. Please.
"Roman."
He lifted a hopeful gaze at her. "Yes?"
"Why did you kill George?"
He shook his head back and forth. "George. He knew. He suspected something. He came to me, to talk to me, to tell me I needed help. I had to get rid of him. Too smart for his own good, dammit. He had to go before he told."
That's why he killed George. George found out something about Roman, and Roman killed him for it.
"Why did you kill Jeff and my dad?"
He frowned and looked away. "I don't want to talk about them."
"I do. It's important to me. I need to know."
"You're always thinking about them. About all of them. It was never about you and me and it needed to be about you and me. And then when I found out he was coming back I knew it was time. They all had to die."
"Is that why you killed them?"
He finally lifted his gaze to hers. "They all had to go so it would just be the two of us. You were always stuck in the past, too wrapped up in it. I had to make it go away. I have to make them all go away, so you'll focus on me. So you'll see me. Me!" He beat his chest.
"I'm the one you're supposed to be with, and you never saw it. All you saw was that night twelve years ago. And Dante. When he came back, he brought the past back with him. I saw it in your eyes. I saw the way you looked at him.
"I had to erase the past, which meant they all had to go. Then you'd be free to think about the future. Then you'd finally see me."
Roman was deeply screwed up. He was teetering so far on the edge of the cliff she could flick her finger at him and he'd fall off. She was going to have to tread very lightly. "I see you now. I'm sorry it took me so long."
He looked right through her as if he didn't even see her, as if he was looking at something else instead. "You still love Dante. I have to kill him so you'll forget him."
"Now that I know how you feel--"
He stood abruptly, anger turning his face red as he pointed the knife at her. "No. They have to be gone or you won't forget. I have to make them disappear, or you'll keep thinking about them."
"Who told you that?"
He pointed the knife at her. "I know. If he's still alive you'll love him. Gabe has to go, too. They all have to go."
She stayed silent, pondering a way out. Dante would find her, and they'd both survive this. She had to believe that, had to stay strong and steady so when the time came she could make a move.
"Can I see the house now?"
He shook his head. "No."
"Roman, please? I'd really like to walk around. Maybe we can have a drink, sit in the living room and talk."
"You want to sit and talk?"
"Yes. Let's forget about everyone else and be just you and me."
His eyes gleamed with excitement. If she only had a sledgehammer...
"Okay. I'll come help you stand."
He moved toward her and she caught sight of a red dot hovering against the window shade.
Laser sight. Someone was outside. SWAT? God, she hoped so.
She stood as he came toward her and prayed like hell SWAT could tell the difference between Roman and her.
The window broke with the shot, but Roman hit the ground, pulling her down with him.
Shit. They'd missed. Roman rolled, scrambled to his knees and dragged her in front of him.
Everything happened so fast after that. Roman jerking her out of the bedroom. Glass breaking as someone came busting through the window.
This wasn't going to end well for one of them.
Dante had Roman in his sights and he was going to take the shot, fuck Pohanski and his order to wait for SWAT.
"You sure about this?" Gabe had asked.
"I'm sure I'm not waiting."
"Then I'm right behind you."
Anna was in there and Roman was insane. He had one mission--get in there and get her away from him. The rest of Pohanski's team could stand around with their dicks in their hands when they got there, but he was going in.
As soon as he saw the silhouette and knew it was Roman, he sighted and took the shot. He saw the shadows moving after the shot and knew he'd missed. So he took off at a run and threw himself through the window, taking the chance that Roman wouldn't hurt Anna.
He rolled and came up, rifle aimed and ready to fire.
Roman was nowhere to be found. Bathroom was clear except for one dead woman in the tub that had to be Tess. He looked at Gabe and they both grimaced.
Dante moved out of the room at a careful pace, listening for sounds of breathing, looking for shadows in corners, anything that would give him a clue where they'd gone. He knew they wouldn't leave the house because by now Roman realized the place was surrounded.
Gabe was right behind him, moving in unison, with his back to him, checking to make sure they wouldn't be ambushed.
Dante stopped, listened, heard nothing and moved into the next bedroom. Empty, so they moved on.
Small house. There were only so many places Roman could hide. He heard a sound and stilled, his head turning in the direction of the noise. He made steps toward the door and turned the knob, opened it.
Stairs. Basement.
"I'm going down alone."
Dante turned to Gabe. "Halfway down and stop at the overhang. Cover me. If it goes bad, take him down and don't wait for SWAT."
"You got it."
Dante moved down the stairs, trying not to make noise, but it was an old house and wooden stairs creaked. Dammit.
He got to the bottom and hit the concrete floor. It was dark. His eyes were trained and he could see fine. He'd hit plenty of targets on a moonless night.
He scoped out the basement. It was littered with boxes and old furniture as he moved his way around. There was a storage room, but he already knew where they were. He stilled long enough to hear them breathing.