"But if we let her live, she could tell him you forced her to have sex with you."
He put the cleaner away. "I didn't have sex with her. I didn't get the chance to touch her before my dad arrived."
Despite everything, Tiffany felt a measure of relief at this news. She hated the thought of Colin with Zoe. She didn't care when he made his pets do him sexual favors because he usually made them serve her, too. It was a game. But Zoe was different. "She could remember us taking off her clothes."
"There's no chance of that. She's completely out of it and has been ever since you left."
"But it takes eight hours for a roofie to wear off. At least, it did with me. What if Jonathan Stivers finds her before that and can tell she's been doped up?"
"We'll buy a small bottle of sleeping pills and leave it on the nightstand, so it looks new, as if she bought it herself. He'll assume she took one, and she won't remember what the hell happened, so hopefully she'll go along with it. It's our best shot. If she disappears right now, the whole thing will come crashing down on us."
Tiffany gazed at the inert figure hidden in that blanket. The blood was gone, the rags were gone, the body was neatly put aside so they could carry Zoe through the door and dump her in the car. Maybe there was still hope.
"Okay, so we leave her in the motel room and then we bury...him." She couldn't force herself to say 'Paddy.'"
He tossed the garbage bag with the towel on top of his dead father.
"That's right."
"Where?" she asked.
"You let me worry about that."
"Okay." Thank God she wouldn't have to deal with the digging.
She took two deeps breaths, then remembered what Colin had said about Sam. "Is it time to kill Sam, too? To get out of it all?"
"No, I'm not done with her yet. But you're going to have to take her to Paddy's cabin. We need her out of the house as soon as possible. I'll stay here and lead the search in the morning like I'm supposed to, then join you tomorrow night."
Tiffany recalled what they'd done to Colin's other pets at that same cabin. Was there such a thing as ghosts? She'd wondered about the possibility before, asked herself if the spirit of the girl Colin had killed there could still be hovering around the place. But the idea had never frightened her as much as it did at this moment. "I don't want to go there by myself, Colin," she said. "Unless you're with me, that place gives me the creeps."
He held the door to the house for her to pass through. "Why? It's just a remote cabin. There isn't a neighbor for miles."
"That's the problem. It's so...isolated. And...what if I get lost? It's tricky driving through those back roads. There aren't many signs."
"Doesn't matter. You've been there often enough to find it."
"I'd rather wait for you."
His fingers bit into the flesh of her arm. "You can't wait for me, damn it! That P.I. is hanging around, looking for Zoe. And when Paddy doesn't show up at home, Sheryl could come over here, too. We can't have Samantha upstairs with all this going on. It's just...too much attention. She might start screaming again. Besides, we need to let people wander through the house at will. How we handle the next twenty-four hours will be very important."
At least this incident had spooked him. At least he wasn't telling her she was worried for nothing. He was worried, too--and finally being cautious. "But what about the boards covering the windows in the bonus room?" she asked. "And the heavy-duty lock on the door?"
"What about them?"
"They could raise questions."
"I'll remove the lock and stick my drums in there to explain the soundproofing." He urged her through the door. "Just help me get Zoe dressed."
Her step faltered. "Oh, no!"
"What?"
"Her clothes are in the trash in the bathroom of a Wendy's!"
With a curse, he shoved her into the house and toward the front door.
"Go get them while I put her in the trunk. We can dress her at the motel."
With a nod, she hurried to reclaim her shoes--and stepped in a large wet spot that nearly made her retch. It was Paddy's blood...or what was left of it after Colin's attempt to clean up.
"Hurry," he admonished when she froze.
Choking back the bile that rose to her throat, she slipped on her shoes.
She didn't want to think, didn't want to acknowledge that Paddy was gone for good. Because if Colin could kill Paddy, he could kill anyone.
She remembered her husband's hands around her throat the night she'd accidentally let Rover escape. Was it possible that he'd someday kill her?
No. Never. She was special to him. Wasn't she?
"Colin?" she said, hesitating at the door.
The uncertainty in her voice brought him back to the foot of the stairs.
"What?"
"You love me, right?"
"You mean everything to me, Tiff. I'm never going to forget this, I swear."
They'd put it behind them. Somehow. Someway. And then they'd be happy like they were before.
Even without Paddy.
She gave him a smile that trembled on her face. "You'd better wipe that blood off your forehead."
Although her vision was blurry, Zoe could tell she wasn't alone.
Scooting up in the bed, she squinted to see the man sitting across the room from her. But her head throbbed so badly she could scarcely lift it off the pillow, and she couldn't make out his features. The shadows were too deep in that corner; the only light came from the bathroom.
Who was it? Jonathan? It had to be him, didn't it? Anton wasn't part of her life anymore, and her former fiance certainly didn't look that lean or muscular, even in shadow.
Where were they?
In a motel room, obviously. But she couldn't remember which motel, which part of town, how she came to be here or why. Last she could recall, she'd changed her mind about getting a motel room and had decided to let Jonathan put her up. Staying at his house was free, it was safe and she needed his friendship. If allowing herself to lean on him was a mistake, she'd have to deal with the consequences. But she'd do it later, when this catastrophe was over. Breakups weren't that painful, not if she was careful from the start. She'd just be sure to handle Jonathan the same way she handled all men these days--she'd enjoy his company as long as it was better than being alone. But she wouldn't allow herself to become too emotionally attached. Maybe withholding the most intimate, sensitive part of herself wasn't playing fair, but it was the only way to survive.
So, if she wasn't worried about getting hurt, why had she rented a motel room? Or was it Jonathan who'd brought her here?