“A guy named Jonathan Bright.” Cash tilted his head. “But he’d been dead for years and—”
“The places aren’t random.”
“Uh, no, I agree. He’s picking them specifically for his victims—”
“I think he’s picking them for him. Because they have meaning . . . for him.” Her heart was racing faster now. “We need to learn everything we can about Jonathan Bright. Every single thing.” Her gaze slid back to the imposing structure of Bellhaven. “What if he was here?”
“Ana?”
“What if Jonathan Bright was a patient at Bellhaven? Think about it, Cash. You find the perp’s phone at Jonathan’s old cabin. We find the victim we were looking for here. It’s like we’re following a map. One place at a time. We started in the prison. Then we went to the cabin where we found Bernie. Next stop . . . a psych ward, River View. And River View took us to another cabin.” She licked her lips. “Then here. It’s a map. The places—they mean something, I know they do.”
He was silent. “We have to see what connects them all.”
She nodded. “We find that connection, and we have our killer.”
They’d gotten Dr. Summers out of her quiet room. Had the doctor had time to think, to consider her actions, to quiet her demons?
The ambulance had roared away, taking her from the scene of the crime.
The cops were still there. The FBI agents. The scene was so chaotic, no one even noticed him. A stolen cop uniform, a badge pinned to his chest, and he blended right in.
He saw Ana. And Agent Knox. Huddled close together.
“It’s a map. The places—they mean something, I know they do.”
Ana’s voice was so determined. He smiled as he turned away from her. She was right, of course. The places he’d selected did mean something. Ana understood because she understood him. She had, from the very beginning.
After all, Ana had been to hell, just like he had. She knew what the fire felt like as it burned.
“We have to see what connects them all.” That was Knox talking.
His smile vanished. Knox wasn’t like Ana. Knox wasn’t there to stop the darkness. He was the darkness.
And he’s next.
He would take Agent Knox and give the man his own punishment to face. Knox wouldn’t have a chance.
“Officer!” Someone was pointing at him. A woman in a suit, with a badge pinned to her hip. “They need backup on the south perimeter. Get over there!”
South perimeter. Right. He started running that way only . . .
He stopped after a few moments and glanced back. Ana was still huddled close to Knox. Their bodies were leaning together, almost . . . intimately. It was wrong. Ana wouldn’t want someone like him.
At that moment, Ana looked up. Her gaze focused right on him. He couldn’t move. She was looking dead at him. Seeing him.
It was the first time he felt as if someone had really seen him in a very, very long time.
He smiled at her.
She stiffened.
His smile vanished.
Ana took a step toward him. No, no, this was not the place for their meeting. Not the time. He wasn’t ready.
He turned, running for the woods as panic hit him. A panic he hadn’t felt in so long.
He ran . . . and he remembered . . .
Fleeing. Bare feet on the ground. My heart racing. He’s coming after me. He’s so close. Coming . . . coming . . . have to get away. He’s going to hurt me. He’ll kill me . . .
Running.
Running.
Chapter Fifteen
“Cash!” Ana’s voice was sharp. Her hand flew out, locking around his arm. “That cop there . . .”
He turned his head, following her stare.
“Something is wrong.” She took a step toward the cop. “The way he was watching me . . . it’s . . . something is wrong.”
The guy had turned and started running toward the woods.
Ana shoved away from Cash, heading after him. “Stop!” Ana yelled. “Wait!”
Agent Faye Comwell turned to look at Ana’s cry. “I told that officer to search the perimeter. Why do you need him?”
The guy was heading toward that perimeter. But . . .
Shouldn’t he have stopped at Ana’s cry?
He hadn’t. He’d just seemed to run faster.
Cash gave chase, too, pulling out his weapon. If Ana’s instincts were screaming at her, then he was going to listen to her. Their feet pounded over the earth as they darted into the woods. Behind him, he could hear the cry of the barking dogs.
And ahead of him—he could hear the officer, running hard and fast.
He shouldn’t be running from us. Not if he’s just some local cop.
Ana pushed through a heavy patch of bushes and then—she stopped.
Cash stopped.
He didn’t hear the thunder of the other man’s footsteps. The area was suddenly far too quiet.
“Where did he go?” Ana spun around. “Where the hell is he?”
He was out there. Waiting. Watching.
Cash stepped in front of Ana. “Hey, you sonofabitch,” he called out. “Is this what you do? You hide? You sneak your ass back to the scene of a crime and then at the first sign of trouble, you panic? Is that what you are—a fucking coward?”
Ana grabbed his arm. “Cash . . .”
“I think you are a coward. I saw what you did to Dr. Summers. Left her in that straitjacket. Drugged her. Locked her in the dark. What kind of man does that? What kind of—”
“The bitch deserved it!”
The roar had come from the left. And it was just what Cash had been hoping to hear—he’d taunted the perp deliberately, knowing what his weakness would be. In classic style, the guy had taken the bait.
Cash lunged to the left. He heard the frantic thud of footsteps, rushing away.
You won’t get away. We have you. You’re done. Done now.
Others were behind him, alerted by Cash’s frantic race into the woods. Was the perp running wildly? Or had he mapped out some kind of exit strategy? He’s always seemed so prepared, but maybe he’d slipped up this time.
Ana was right at Cash’s side, running so fast. She’d been the one to spot the bastard with instincts he would never doubt. Ana. She was—
A gunshot blasted.
Cash threw his body against Ana’s, sending them both tumbling to the ground. He felt the burn of a bullet blaze across his shoulder. Hell. The guy wasn’t going down without a fight.
Ana was quiet beneath him, her body tense.
Footsteps thudded away once more.
“Stay behind me,” Cash ordered Ana. Because if that guy fired again, he didn’t want that bullet hitting her. Then they were off, rushing after the perp as they dove through the thick woods.
An engine’s growl reached them, revving.
Shit. Cash ran faster. He burst out of the clearing just as a motorcycle roared away. He lifted his gun. “Stop!” he roared.
The driver didn’t stop. Cash fired. He saw the driver spasm when the bullet hit him, the motorcycle swerved but the guy got his control back. Cash fired again—
But the motorcycle had disappeared around a winding curve.
Sonofabitch.
He yanked out his phone. “All points bulletin!” Cash snarled into it. “Get an all points bulletin out right away! We’ve got a perp on a Harley-Davidson Softail heading east on Dunlay Road. The driver is armed and dangerous. Contain him,” he barked, giving the order directly to the local dispatch unit. “Now.” He whirled back around, intending to get back to that parking lot and get the cops searching for him.
They could still catch the guy, if they moved fast enough.
He’d been hit. The bullet was still in him, burning, tearing into his flesh. The bastard had shot him.
Agent Knox had been far too close.
He fought to maintain control of his bike, knowing that he had to hurry. Knox would send agents after him, local cops. They’d
all be searching frantically for his motorcycle.
Good thing he planned to ditch it.
Another curve, and then he saw the run-down gas station. It waited for him, just a few yards away. And as soon as his headlight hit it . . .
Two headlights flashed on, signaling him.
His partner was there. Waiting with another ride, just as he’d planned.
Always be careful. Always be two steps ahead of the law. That was a lesson he’d been taught so long ago. A lesson that had stayed with him, as so much of the brutal instruction had.
He drove his bike to the back of the station. Hid it behind some old piles of wood. It would be found, eventually, but by then, he’d be long gone. He started walking and realized . . . his back was soaked with blood.
He was dripping blood, leaving a trail in his wake. Leaving evidence behind, for the first time.
They get your DNA. They get you. Don’t fucking let that ever happen. Another lesson. Another memory. He kicked up the dirt there, trying to hide the blood trail. Maybe they wouldn’t see it. Maybe—
“Hurry up!” The yell had him jerking to attention. “I just heard on the police scanner—they’re looking for you!”
He stopped kicking the dirt and ran toward the VW Beetle that waited. An unassuming ride, selected for just that reason. He jumped in the passenger side and groaned when his right shoulder hit the seat.
“What’s wrong?” his partner demanded.
He yanked the door closed behind him, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Nothing.”
“That’s a lie. We aren’t supposed to lie to each other.”
He turned to look at his partner, squinting to see her in the darkness. No, they weren’t supposed to lie, not to each other. That had been part of their plan. Part of their pact, all along.
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered. Her head turned and she looked toward the old station. “Your blood could be on the bike. You know the rule—”
“Drive.” The pain was becoming excruciating. He leaned forward, thinking it might not be as bad if he didn’t let his shoulder touch the seat. “Knox shot me, okay? Just go.”
She floored the gas pedal and the car shot from the station.
“Slow down, dammit,” he growled. “You don’t want to look like you’re running! They’re trying to find a motorcycle, not this car!”
And if they could just take it slow and steady and not panic, they’d get out of there safely.
One step at a time.
“How did he know?” she asked. “How did he realize it was you? I thought you were going to stay away from him—”
“Ana saw me.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffen.
“Ana called out to me. I—I didn’t stop.” Because he’d panicked. Dammit, panicked. He’d slipped back in time and became someone else as he ran through the woods. “I ran and Knox shot me.” Though he’d tried to shoot that bastard first.
But that wasn’t the way I wanted it to end.
“The bullet . . . it’s still in my back.” Sweat was coating his skin. “You’re going to have to . . . get it out . . .”
She was silent. Her hands were tight on the wheel, her gaze directed straight ahead.
“We’ll get to our . . . safe house . . .” He felt dizzy. “I’ll . . . be okay . . .”
“You weren’t supposed to get shot. I told you that going up there was risky. Stupid. Risky.” Her voice hardened with each word. “But you did it because she was there. You almost got caught because of her.”
“Just . . . drive . . .” She was right, but he didn’t want to hear it, not right then.
“You know the rules . . . you know what happens if you break the rules.”
He stiffened. “Everything is . . . okay.” Nausea twisted in his gut. He hadn’t been in this much pain in so long . . .
Running through the woods. Bare feet pounding. Have to get help. Have to—
“I don’t think it’s okay,” she replied, her voice cold. “I don’t think anything is going to be okay.”
At three a.m., Ana stood in the middle of her motel room—another no-tell, motel—her body too tense for sleep, and her mind in chaos.
Agent Faye Comwell had brought Ana back to the motel just over an hour ago. Cash had stayed out on the hunt, desperately looking for a perp who seemed to have vanished into thin air.
No one was supposed to vanish that way.
Tell that to all the victims that LOST seeks.
She heard footsteps outside. Heavy, hard. She tensed, but they went past her door and a few moments later, she heard rustles from the room beside hers.
Cash’s room.
He’d been so grim as he continued the search. Determined as all hell to find the perp.
He hadn’t come to her, so she guessed that meant he hadn’t turned up anything.
But it would still be nice to hear that straight from him. Ana grabbed her coat and her room key. She hurried next door and knocked lightly on the door. The parking lot was dark and quiet behind her. “Cash? Cash, it’s me.”
The door opened. He stood there, one hand gripping the frame, the other on the doorknob. He’d taken off his shirt and his shoes and he looked dark and dangerous and . . .
Sexy.
Don’t. Don’t go there. You aren’t supposed to find him sexy. You’re done with that, remember?
Ana cleared her throat. “May I come in?”
He didn’t move. “We didn’t find him, Ana. The bastard slipped right through our fingers. When we get daylight, we’ll start the search again.”
Okay, right. That was what she’d wanted to know. She turned away, but then . . .
Ana looked back at him. The bandage was still around his forearm and a second white bandage covered his shoulder. “I didn’t realize you’d been hit.” He’d been shot? And he hadn’t said anything?
Cash shrugged. “It was just a graze.” Once again, his voice was so deep and dark.
Her breasts tightened.
No, do not do this. “I want to come inside. We need to—to talk.”
“Ana . . .” His body tensed. “It’s been a real long day. My mind . . . my control . . . it’s not what it needs to be with you.”
“What does that mean?”
He swore. “It means it’s late. It means you need to walk away from me.”
“But I thought I could trust you.” She just had the need to keep pushing him. Weird. Wrong. But still there. “Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me?”
“Only you don’t believe me.”
That was before you risked your life for me. Twice.
“Come inside, Ana. If it’s what you really want.” He took a step back.
She crossed the threshold.
He had a few lights on in his room, the lamp beside the bed. The overhead light near the door. The bathroom light . . .
She suddenly wished it were darker. It was easier to bare her soul in the dark. I’ve been hiding in the dark for so long, I’m almost afraid to be in the light. And that was a scary truth.
He paced away from her and kept his hands at his sides. “You did really well today, Ana. I don’t know what tipped you off about the man in the cop uniform—”
“He was smiling.” A cold, chilling smile. “We were in the middle of chaos, Dr. Summers had just been rushed away in an ambulance, and he was just—staring at me and smiling.” She shook her head. “So, yeah, you could say that made alarm bells go off.”
“I know you described him before . . .”
Yes, she had. “The lights hit him just right. He was about your size, big shoulders. Square chin. He had dark hair, cut a little short.” Nothing that stood out. Nothing that made him any different from anyone else.
“You’re still talking to the sketch artist tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes, I am.” She ran her hand over the back of her neck. “Cash, look, I need to know . . . why did you do it?”
His shoulders tensed. “I’ve already
been over why I didn’t tell you the truth about—”
“No.” She gave a short, hard shake of her head. “I mean, why do you keep risking your life for me? Twice you did that tonight. You deliberately provoked Summers to attack you, and when that perp fired, you put yourself in front of me.”
He stared down at his clenched hands. “I said I’d look out for you.”
“And I said I didn’t want you to lie to me again.”
His head whipped up. His eyes glittered at her.
Ana sucked in a deep breath—one for courage—and she took a step toward him. “It’s just you and me here right now. So don’t lie. Don’t tell me that you were just doing your job.”
“I was.”
“Don’t tell me you’d do the same for anyone.”
He swallowed. “I wouldn’t let an innocent be harmed.”
She took another step toward him. “No, you probably wouldn’t. Because I was right about you all along, wasn’t I?” The good guy. The one you were supposed to be able to count on. “You want to know why it hit me so hard when Asher told me the truth?”
“Because you thought I’d betrayed you. That I was playing some sick game with you.” His hands were tight fists. “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t. No games, not with you. Never with you.”
“No. You don’t understand.” Another step brought her even closer to him. His knuckles had gone white. Why? Why hold them so tightly? “I was sick because I was hearing the truth—dark and twisted and seemingly so ugly—and I looked at you, and . . .” Her voice fell to a whisper. “And I still wanted you.”
He backed up. His shoulders hit the wall. “Ana.”
“Why are your fists so tight, Cash?”
“So I won’t touch you.”
Because he’d told her that she would have to ask for his touch.
“I ran away from you,” Ana said. “Because I was scared to death.”
“I would never hurt you.”
No, she didn’t think he would. “I was scared that I needed you too much. That I couldn’t see you clearly enough.” A soft laugh escaped her. “My instincts have usually served me well. Like tonight, I knew something was off. That guy, he didn’t fit . . .” Her head tilted as she studied Cash. “You know what my instincts always said about you?”