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  “What are you talking about?”

  Dale stepped farther into the cave. “All of law enforcement is holding a meeting at the Arlington. City, NPS, the FBI. And my agency as well. I saw Alberta Ventress. Which means we need to get the hell out of town.”

  “You know her?”

  “I know of her. By reputation. She’s what you might call a cleaner. She mops up sticky situations. They’ll be out to neutralize me.”

  “Neutralize?” she said and stepped closer. “You mean…”

  “Quite possibly. And if that were to happen, then no one’s ever going to catch Clyde Bowen. Sadler’s heading the investigation locally, and he’d make sure that your accusation will be found delusional, vengeful, something. The case will go cold—just like all the serial killers Clyde has been modeling—or, worse, it’ll get pinned on someone else. I can’t let that happen. We need to get out of town, regroup, and I’ll come up with a new plan of attack.”

  “I’m not sure I’m in the best of conditions to hike for miles on end.”

  Dale grinned. “No need.” He held up the keys he’d swiped from the truck. “Transportation courtesy of Bill Sadler.”

  She smiled then brushed at the green paint on his leather jacket.

  “You must be exhausted. Here.”

  She walked over to the water jug.

  “Mira,” he said with a small, disbelieving laugh, “I appreciate your concern, but you’re one who needs to rest.”

  Mira stepped back to him with a tin cup full of water.

  He took it.

  “Thanks.”

  He took a sip. Looked to this side, thinking.

  “We’ll sleep now,” he said. “And then we’ll take off in the middle of the night. It’s our best option. My only problem with everything is the amount of time it gives Clyde—and possibly Sadler as well—to kill another woman. Or women. It’s gong to take time to for us to get out of town, time to come up with a plan …”

  He caught her looking at him. She shook her head.“You really let the weight of the world fall on your shoulders, don’t you?”

  Dale gave her a grin.

  “Sometimes it just lands there.”

  He looked to the mouth of the cave.

  “He’s out there somewhere. Clyde Bowen. That’s the bitch of it all. I’ve seen him twice now—once on the Promenade and once when he killed Ernie Plunkett. And both times he was so close I could have grabbed him. But otherwise, he’s been nothing but a whisper. I’ve been chasing a ghost. And once we leave town, I can picture that ghost fading away, just like all those serial killers in his book.”

  Mira took the the cup from him. Looked in and saw that he had finished the water. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he’ll disappear. He’ll show himself again. Someday.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  She set the cup down and stepped back up to him.

  “Because Clyde’s the kind of man whose needs escalate. One woman turned into two. Two turned into four turned into a dozen. Having his friend watch turned into watching his friend turned into joining with his friend. Spanking turned into slapping turned into beating turned into ... killing. He’ll never go back. Now that he’s been there, he’ll always need to kill. If you don’t catch him, someone else will.” She paused. “But I think it’ll be you.”

  She smiled at him.

  “Why does he do it? The escalation?”

  “Power. Plain and simple. Short Man Syndrome. Napoleon Complex. He’s so small. No taller than me. Both him and Sadler. Little tiny men, big giant egos. Taking it out on the women they feel inferior to.”

  Dale realized then that there was something he needed to know. But he had to be careful about how he approached it. Very careful.. He spoke cautiously.

  “How did it happen? The attack.”

  She didn't respond immediately. She looked away, to the floor. Her eyes opened more, moistened.

  “It was the middle of the night. I heard ... I heard a bang from the front of my house. I bolted up in bed, went for the gun I keep in the drawer. But then he calls out to me, from across the house. Tells me it’s just him. So I laid back down, didn’t bother to turn the light on. Thought he was just stumbling over, looking for something after things didn’t work out for him at Sullivan’s. I heard him approach the bedroom. And then…”

  She stopped. Her mouth quivered. Her shaking hand went to her face.

  Dale reached out.

  “Please. Don’t finish,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked yet. I’m sorry.”

  She ignored what he said. Her eyes were glazed over, reliving the attack. “And then I didn’t hear anything for a moment. So I opened my eyes, and I see him just standing in my doorway. His silhouette. He had the knife in his hand. And ... I ... and …”

  She burst into tears, both hands going to her face.

  Dale stepped forward and put his arms around her.

  “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me to ask. I’m so sorry.”

  Guilt enveloped Dale…

  Mira cried on his chest for a few moments, arms folded in. Dale kept his arms around and rested his cheek against the top of her head until, after a few moments, the tears faded off and gave way to mild shaking.

  She wrapped her arms around him, keeping her face pressed against his chest.

  “Please tell me I’m not the only one,” she said. “Please tell me that other people have pain in their relationships. I don’t want to think that everyone has found love and perfect happiness, and I chose a serial killer.”

  “No relationship is perfect. There might not be violence, but everyone has their strife.”

  She looked up at him from his chest.

  “What about you and Allie? You sounded pretty perfect.”

  “Oh, far from it.”

  Allie and Dale. In her bedroom. It was the middle of the day. Both were dressed, and the bed was made. They glared at each other. There was several feet of separation between them.

  “You’re really the most jealous man I’ve ever met. Do you know that?”

  “You’ve broken up with me twice already. You’ll forgive my paranoia. Why’s he calling here, anyway?”

  “None of your damn business.”

  “I’m your boyfriend.”

  “Oh, so that entitles you to anything? You want a copy of my phone bill? Should I have it forwarded to you each month?”

  “Don’t be snide.”

  “I don’t think I can avoid that right now. Let’s just hang out another time.”

  “We have a day planned.”

  “Oh well.”

  “Allie, I’m only going to be home for two more days before I head to Charlotte.”

  “I don’t care. I can’t see you right now.”

  “Well, now your day’s free to hang out with him.”

  “See?? You paranoid asshole. Get out of my apartment! Get out!”

  Mira’s shaking had subsided. She was now perfectly still, resting comfortably against Dale’s chest. It seemed that hearing the story of his former relationship pain was somehow a comfort to her. When compared to being attacked with a knife, Dale supposed he could see where she was coming from.

  “Is that why you two ended? She cheated on you?”

  “I don’t know if she ever cheated,” Dale said. “Honestly, she might have been right—I may have just been paranoid. But she was fickle. She’d break up with me over the slightest thing. We broke up and got back together three, maybe four times. I’ve lost track.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a keeper to me.”

  “In fairness, the first time she broke up with me came after I got interested in another woman.”

  Mira let out a small laugh. “Ah, the truth comes out. Typical man.”

  “Only interested,” Dale said, quickly correcting her misinterpretation. If there was one thing Dale disliked, it was being misunderstood. “We’d been fighting a lot, and I wasn’t particularly getting the warm-fuzzies. I never would have ch
eated on her, understand. But, yes, I got interested in someone else. We’re all only human.”

  “This is true.”

  Dale looked down, saw how fully recovered she was. He took his arms off her. She remained against him for a moment before stepping away.

  “What time are we leaving?” she said.

  “The middle of the night. Two or three in the morning should be optimal. They’ll be searching the woods, no doubt about it, but they’ll hit town and the trails before they start searching isolated places like this. We should be safe.”

  “Then we need that rest you mentioned. Let’s go to bed.”

  He didn’t like the way Let’s go to bed had sounded. Too comfortable. But he couldn’t imagine how she must felt having gone through what she did only to be quasi-abducted by him, so he said nothing. He just hesitated slightly then followed her to the mattress. After she climb under the blankets, he did the same.

  She turned toward him.

  “Dale?”

  “Yes?”

  “You said they’ll eventually be searching the woods. Do you think Clyde is doing the same thing?”

  “Searching the woods for his next victim?”

  "No. Searching for me. The one he didn’t finish off. His girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, I should say,.”

  “I think we’re safe.”

  “I keep imagining him walking through the mouth of the cave over there, silhouetted with a knife like he was in my bedroom.”

  She started breathing heavily again.

  “Hold me.”

  "I’m sorry, Mira. I can’t. It’s already inappropriate in bed like this, and—”

  “We’re in this thing together, Dale. We’re partners. And I need your support right now. Just put your arm around me. Please.”

  A slight pause. Then Dale reached his arm around her, sliding it under her neck and around to her shoulder. She settled in beside him, putting her head on his chest, resting her hand on him as well, next to her face.

  “Thank you.”

  Dale felt himself compromised, in a bad situation. This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel good. His breaths grew shallower, his heartbeat pounded, He knew she could feel both of these effects through her face and hand, pressed against him, which only made his breaths grow even shallower, his pulse even quicker.

  Dale closed his eyes. If he could just get to sleep …

  There was silence for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside, a bit of it blowing into the mouth of the cave and pattering the rock floor.

  “Clyde wasn’t the only man who was bad to me.”

  She paused, as though waiting for Dale to respond. When he didn't, she continued.

  “When I was a kid, my father used to ... do things, and I—”

  “Mira, please,” he said. He didn’t want to cut her off, but he had to. “I’m here to help you, but are you sure you should be telling me this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s so personal.”

  “Other things have been personal.”

  “And related to the investigation into Clyde.”

  “So you think I’m being inappropriate?”

  “A bit, yes. We’re in bed together, and I’m holding you.”

  There was a long pause.

  “This whole thing is inappropriate, don’t you think? You kidnapped me, and my boyfriend tried to kill me yesterday. How can you say that?”

  She started crying.

  The guilt wave crashed over Dale again.

  He rolled toward her.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. What you’ve been through ... I can’t even …”

  “He came at me with a knife! He cut me up!” she said between sobs. “Imagine someone you love slicing your flesh. Trying to end your life. And you can’t even listen to me talk about my father? You asshole! You son of a bitch!”

  “I’m sorry. I’m ... I’m sorry, okay? Please. Tell me more.”

  Mira stopped crying. She looked into him with fiery anger, eyebrows pinched together. Then she took a deep breath, released it. Her face became kind again.

  She leaned in and kissed him.

  He pulled back, pushed her away with his hand.

  “Oh, no. Mira, this is—”

  “Inappropriate? Of course.”

  The anger returned. She looked away from him.

  “Listen, I’ll sleep here with you again. For a few hours. We need our rest. I’ll even hold you. I know that’s what you need right now, the comfort, the closeness. But that’s all.”

  She rolled closer to him, her expression somewhere between happy and sad.

  “Dale…”

  She rolled her body partway onto his, draping her knee to the other side of his body. She went to kiss him again. He pulled back.

  “Mira, stop.”

  She put her hand to his shoulder, pulled herself further on top of him.

  She leaned up as though to try another kiss, and when he avoided her again, she brought the kiss down to his neck.

  Her lips burning hot, wet.

  “Stop!”

  She wiggled herself fully on top of him, her frontside completely pressed against him, legs on either splayed on either side of his.

  That long, sinuous frame he’d imagined.

  Felt good.

  Felt amazing.

  “Listen to me, Dale…”

  “Knock it off.”

  He couldn’t.

  Dale went to push her off, but she latched herself, squeezing her thighs.

  “No one else but you would have taken me away. Who would have ever thought we’d end up in this cave? This was meant to happen.”

  “No.”

  She planted her forearms on his chest and pushed up so that she was straddling him, looking down upon him.

  “You have to stop this.”

  “We’re not doing anything wrong. There’s nothing inappropriate because this whole situation is inappropriate. Serial murders. Kidnapped witnesses. You’re right. I need closeness tonight. Kiss me.”

  “No, Mira. Stop.”

  “I need to feel that I’m loved. One kiss. Please, Dale.”

  Dale hesitated.

  “One kiss,” he said. “Okay? Then we get some sleep.”

  Mira smiled and leaned down to him.

  And they kissed.

  Dale hated himself.

  She pulled away, rested her forehead against his.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now roll over. We rest now.”

  She didn't. She slowly, slowly brought her lips back down, kissed his cheek.

  “Mira…”

  “Dale, this was meant to be. You, me, in the woods, safe and dry while it’s rainy outside, a murder in the trees.”

  She started twisting against him.

  “You want me too. I saw the way you looked at the photo, the one my friend brought to the hospital.” She kissed on his neck, passionately. “I can feel that you want me right now.”

  She brought her face above his.

  “Let go,” she said.

  She kissed him, threw her hands to the sides of his face, into his hair.

  Dale put his arm around her back, and they twisted together on the mattress.

  It was such a cliché thing to say or even think.

  I wanted you since the moment I saw you.

  But that's what Dale was thinking with Mira’s body writhing on top of him.

  At least he hadn’t said it.

  And it was exactly as he imagined, when he’d been sitting in the hospital, looking at the frame.

  He had another pang of the guilt just then. It was no longer due to the fact that she'd had a boyfriend, clearly, but the other half of his original guilt remained. The fact that she was a victim. Someone had tried to kill her.

  Her former boyfriend.

  But her words kept ringing in his ear.

  Let go.

  And Dale had. Dale had completely let go.

  He was enjoying this. He was enj
oying the living hell out of this. Her body felt as perfect as he'd hoped. As he’d imagined. So long and twisty. Writhing on top. Squirming below.

  He remembered their conversations, felt the disappointments she shared, felt his own. Knew that there was reason for this to happen. Told himself that, anyway.

  And as her thighs squeezed in around him, she gave him a small push with her hand, rolling back on top, arching her back and stretching that long torso above her him. Twisting. He saw all of her. And his thoughts again went back to their conversations. On love and disappointment.

  And Allie.

  The strangest thing happened.

  He could see Allie. For just a moment the face was hers. Allie’s dark red hair, cascading down her chest, breasts poking through the strands.

  And then the twisting form of Mira.

  Dale shook it off, chalking it up to the moment. The mixed emotions and memories that had been bandied about the cave.

  But it happened again.

  The lithe, thin form transmuting into the curvaceous, soft, redheaded comfort.

  And again.

  All this confused Dale. And he tried to think about it rationally, and this only brought about guilt. And he told himself that he would have none of that. Not right now. Like Mira had said…

  Let go.

  Dale had let go.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dale’s eyes snapped open.

  There was a flash of memory, and an immediate realization struck him. Hard. What had happened. With Mira.

  She lay on his chest, outstretched hand under her cheek. Sound asleep. Lips parted slightly. The blanket, which covered them both, was pulled beneath her arm, and the tops of her breasts were exposed. Dale felt them against him, bare and warm, moving slightly with her slow breaths, and covered in a faint sweat that bound their skin.

  Dale watched her face as he carefully dislodged himself. He slowly put his hand beneath her cheek and transitioned her head onto the pillow.

  Oh god. Oh no.

  The cave wasn’t entirely dark. There was just a bit of light. He could hear the rain outside, loud on the leaves. The air was chilly against his naked flesh, and it took a couple of half-blind moments for him to find his clothes. His boxers were nowhere in sight, but he soon located his 501s and shirt. He quickly threw the jeans on, buttoned up, and approached the front of the cave.