She closed her eyes and let her mind shut down. She saw her mother, laughing down at her—she couldn’t have been more than seven years old and she was trying to do a cheerleading chant. Then her mom had showed her how to do it and it had been so wonderful, so perfect. Her mother’s laughter, so sweet, filling her, making her warm and happy. She rubbed her wrist where Adam had kicked the gun out of her hand. It didn’t hurt, but there was memory of the cold numbness that had lasted for a good five minutes. Where was he? Why had he left?
Adam was back at Jacob Marley’s house and he was so scared for a moment he couldn’t think. She was gone. The door was open but she was gone. There were even two lights on but she was gone. The stalker had gotten her. No, no, that was ridiculous. He was the only one who had found her.
He searched every damned room in the house. He saw his carryall lying on top of his bed. It looked like she’d started unzipping it and then, for whatever reason, had just walked out of the room, leaving it there for him to see.
Why? Where had she gone? Her car was in the driveway, so she couldn’t have gone far . . . unless someone took her.
Don’t panic. She’d gotten a call, something of an emergency. She’d gone to Tyler’s house. It had to do with Sam. The kid was sick, yeah, that was it.
But she wasn’t there, no one was home. He drove by the Food Fort, the gas station, the hospital but he didn’t see her. Jesus, he could drive all over this damn town and not find her.
He drove slowly back to the house. He cut the engine and sat in his black Jeep, his forehead against the leather-wrapped steering wheel.
Where are you, Becca?
He didn’t know why he raised his head and twisted around to look toward the woods. He just did it. And in that instant he knew she was there. But why? It took him three minutes to find her.
She was asleep. He came up on her very quietly. She didn’t stir. She was leaning against the tree trunk, her right hand in her lap. She was holding the Coonan, its polished silver stock gleaming from the slashes of sun through the tree branches.
Had he seen that flash of silver? He didn’t know how he could have, yet he’d known she was there. Why couldn’t he have had this marvelous intuition before he’d scared himself spitless?
He came down on his haunches. He looked at her, wondering what had made her come out here. He saw dried tear streaks down her cheeks. Everything had gotten to be too much for her, and no wonder. She looked pale, too thin. He looked at her fingers curled around the trigger of the Coonan, at her nails, short and ragged. He touched his fingertips to her cheek. Her flesh was soft to the touch. He lightly stroked her cheek. Then, slowly, he shook her shoulder.
“Becca. Come on, wake up.”
She came awake instantly at the sound of a man’s voice, the Coonan up and ready to fire. She heard him curse, then felt the gun fly out of her hand. Her wrist was instantly numb. “Not again.”
“Shit, you nearly shot me.”
It was Adam. She looked up at him and smiled. “I thought it was him. Sorry.”
His heart began to slow. He eased down beside her. “What’s up?”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. I couldn’t find you and I nearly lost my mind trying to figure out where you were. You scared me, Becca. I thought he’d taken you.”
“No, I’m here. I’m sorry. I didn’t think. So how’d you find me?”
He shrugged. He didn’t want to tell her that he just knew very suddenly exactly where she was. He would sound nuts. She didn’t need anyone else around her sounding nuts.
“How long will my wrist be numb this time?”
“Not more than five minutes. Don’t whine. Did you expect me to let you shoot me?”
“No, I guess not.”
“You look tired. Better if you’d taken a nap in your bed than come out here to snore beneath the tree. It just might not be all that safe.” That was one of the best understatements out of his mouth yet.
“Why? The only one who was ever lurking outside here was you, and you’re not lurking out here anymore. You’ve moved right into the house.” She sighed. “I don’t know why I came out here. I just couldn’t stand to stay in the house alone anymore.”
He said again, “You scared me, Becca. Please don’t take off again without leaving me a note.”
She looked up at him, her face so pale now it was nearly as white as winter sleet, and said in a dead voice, “He’s found me. He called.”
“He?” But he knew. Oh yeah, the stalker had found her and he hated it, had dreaded it, but he’d known it would happen. This guy was good. Too good. He had contacts. Whoever he was, he knew people, knew how to use them to get what he wanted. Adam was sure he’d been on her the minute she’d left New York. Still, it surprised him. More than that it scared him to his soul. He hated that surge of fear, deep and corroding. He could almost smell the flames. The fire was coming closer.