The Heart of A Killer

Twenty-Two

What Dante hadn’t told Anna amidst all the chaos that had happened that night was that Gabe had come through with information about Crey Robinson’s drug-dealing past. Robinson had worked for the Bertucci family as a dealer back when he was in college. Though it wasn’t information that Anna would be able to verify through any legal channels.

But at least they knew now. Which meant Robinson stayed at the top of the suspect list, alibi or not.

She was back at work a couple days after the attack, ignoring the fatherly looks given to her by Pohanski. The swelling on her face had gone down and she was lucky not to end up with a black eye. She felt fine. A little stiff, but mobile and so ready to end this case and this killer she could taste it.

And still unable to work the case, which made her seethe.

So she worked the other homicides, which had generated very few leads, but they were still murders that needed follow-up. Roman helped her with those and they had interviewed a few suspects and got those out of the way. Unfortunately, the cases were so cold she was getting frostbite in July, so no luck on the newly assigned cases, which left her plenty of time to work on the one case they all wanted to close.

“So Crey Robinson has an alibi,” she said to Dante as she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe he wasn’t the only one in the alley that night. And maybe whoever was with him is doing the killings.”

“It’s a thought,” Dante said.

“A pretty good one,” Roman added.

He’d been back on duty longer than her, was recovering from his injuries. His arm was out of the sling and the knife wound was healing. He still walked with a limp but Pohanski put him back on active duty. Anna was just so damn happy Roman had escaped the killer she wanted to dance on top of her desk. They were winning. The killer had tried to take both Roman and her down and he hadn’t succeeded.

It was only a matter of time and they’d have him.

They still hadn’t found Sam Maclin, who’d seemingly gone missing after the night of her attack.

“Sam Maclin is still our strongest suspect,” Dante said. “You’re attacked and suddenly he can’t be found. We have a BOLO out for him. His photo and license plate number has been sent out to all city and county LEs. We’ll find him.”

“Unless he skipped town before I was attacked, in which case he’s not our suspect.”

“We’ve alerted his mother and told her it’s in his best interest to contact us and clear himself. If he gets in touch with her and he can come up with an alibi for the night of your attack, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t,” Roman said.

“If he’s innocent,” Dante added, crossing his arms.

“Yeah. If he’s innocent,” Roman said.

Now that she’d discovered that the guys hadn’t killed Tony Maclin, the cloud of guilt had lifted. Where once she might have felt sorry about targeting another Maclin, now she didn’t. If Sam Maclin was the one doing all the killings, he had to be stopped. And she wouldn’t feel guilty about taking another son away from Susan Maclin.

“My bet is he’s going to come home. His art is there, and that’s his passion. I don’t think he can stay away that long.”

Dante nodded. “You may be right, but it’s a big risk for him. He has to know we’re watching.”

“Maybe. But he thinks he’s smarter than we are,” she said.

“He is a smug bastard,” Roman said. “He might think he can outsmart us.”

“Or outwait us.” Anna stood. “What if we pulled the surveillance crew outside his house? Everyone’s supposed to be out there looking for the killer, anyway.”

Dante’s lips curled. “Good idea.”

“Only we won’t be outside waiting for him…”

Dante’s eyes sparkled. “Sometimes you have devious ideas. Could have used someone like you out in the field.”

She laughed. “No, thanks. This job is dangerous enough.”

It had been difficult getting Susan Maclin’s permission to allow them inside her home. She wasn’t exactly happy to see them. In fact, her formerly gracious attitude toward them had changed to one of cool disregard. Almost hatred.

But Dante assured her they were only looking out for Sam’s welfare and were trying to clear him off the suspect list, and the best way to do that was to bring him in. Hiding out from them only made him look bad.

She agreed with that, but she couldn’t get him to answer his phone. She told Dante she’d been trying several times a day and he wouldn’t answer.

They’d tried hitting up his cell phone for a location, but got nothing.

They pulled the unmarked car off the street after doing a sweep of the neighborhood, including all the houses. Sam was nowhere in the vicinity.

Anna had stayed behind in the precinct after Dante and Roman left so Pohanski wouldn’t think she was going with him. Pohanski was wandering the bull pen, so she got on the phone with a lead on one of her cases, tapping her pen against the desk and counting down every minute. As soon as Pohanski made himself scarce, she ended the call, grabbed her notebook and keys and left.

She met Dante at a convenience store a few miles from the precinct. They parked a block over and went in the back door of the Maclins’ house.

Susan Maclin was already inside with Roman. He took her upstairs, out of sight, in case there was trouble. They wanted to make sure she was safe.

“I’ll cover the living room and kitchen area,” Dante said.

Anna nodded. “I’ll take the art studio.”

“Mic up so we can stay in contact in case anyone spots him,” Dante said.

She took the earpiece and slid it in. “Everyone hear me?”

“Got you,” Roman said.

She headed off into the studio. “Dante?”

“I hear you.”

The cool air in the studio came as a relief, even with all the windows streaming in sunlight. The day had started blistering hot and had only gotten worse.

She wandered around to look at the art. What did it take to have this kind of talent? The paintings, the sculptures-it was something that was beyond her. She loved art, loved going to the galleries to look at paintings and try to interpret the artists’ messages. To have that level of talent left her in awe.

And to have an entire family with that kind of talent-she wondered how Tony would have ended up if he had lived. It was a shame he’d traded his talent for drugs and craziness. But they said some artists lived on the edge of madness. Was that what Tony had done? Had his talent driven him to the brink, and he’d dealt with it by turning to drugs?

And why had Maclin attacked her that night? Crime of opportunity, maybe. She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And the attempted rape-that had come out of nowhere. She blamed his high for that. Or maybe he’d had the predilection for it all along. She supposed they’d never know.

She moved over to the sculpture in process, the one Sam had been working on when she and Dante had come to talk to him before. He’d made some progress on it. It was a bust, mostly finished now, of a young woman with flowing, wavy hair that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a locket that dipped between her breasts.

The intricacy of the sculpture was amazing. How did he do something like that? The time it took to chip away at each piece, then mold it to make it look like an actual person must take hours of painstaking work.

She leaned in to examine the workmanship, and something caught her eye.

Her breath caught.

Above the breast, Sam had carved a heart.

Coincidence.

She backed away and moved to some of his finished pieces. They were all women, some full bodies.

And on each of them were carvings of a heart above the left breast, some so small they were barely noticeable. But they were there, on every piece.

“No.”

“Anna?”

Dante’s voice, concerned.

“Anna. Answer,” he said again.

“I’m fine. Just checking something out.”

“You see him?”

“No.”

She examined the paintings, some done by Tony long ago, judging by his name written in the right-hand corner of the canvas. Most by his mother. In every one there were hearts. Some near the signature, some on the people.

How had she missed it before?

“You like the art?”

She whirled around and saw Sam facing her. He had a gun in his hand. She reached for hers.

“Don’t.”

She dropped her hand, but didn’t relax, ready at any time to draw her weapon.

“How did you get in here?” she asked.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“So your mother knew all along?”

He smiled. “No. She never knew about the hideaway.”

“What hideaway?”

He cracked a smile. “Wall space in the house that connects rooms. Tony and I found it years ago. It was our secret. We never told Mom and Dad.”

She swallowed, watched him casually hold the gun. He wasn’t exactly pointing it at her. He was looking at all the art, zeroing in on his sculpture.

“I really need to get back to work.”

“Then tell me everything. Did you kill all those people?”

His gaze shot to hers. Anger. “No.”

“Did you come after me at my house the other night?”

He frowned. “What? No.”

“Then tell me how I’m supposed to believe you.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone about what happened to my brother that night?”

A cold chill shivered down her spine. “You were there.”

“Yeah. I was there.” He lifted the gun. “I saw it all.”

She wondered if he had really seen it all.

“Do you know what Tony did that night?”

His gaze didn’t waver, not even when Sam and Roman came running in, guns drawn. She lifted her hand to stay them.

“Yeah. My brother died.”

“Do you know what else he did that night?”

He cocked his head to the side. He didn’t know.

Anna unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and showed him the heart.

“Did you see him do this to me?”

Sam’s gaze bored into the scar on her chest. His eyes filled with tears and he stepped forward, his hand out as if he wanted to touch her.

“Maclin, don’t.” Dante took a step forward.

“It’s okay, Dante.”

Sam didn’t touch her, just drew closer. “Jesus Christ. I didn’t know he cut you like that.”

“You were there. You saw.”

He started rocking back and forth on his heels, the gun still aimed at her, but his hand was more relaxed now. “We were home alone together and he told me he was going out. I told him I was old enough to go along. He said fine, so he took me with him, said we’d go play laser tag, but he had a stop to make first. He drove to the alley, told me to wait in the car for him, that he’d be right back. Said he had to buy some blow and I was supposed to stay in the car.”

“You didn’t stay in the car, did you?” Anna asked.

“No. I wanted to see. I was scared for him. I wanted to make sure he was gonna be okay, so I got out of the car and followed him into the alley, but I hid. He was waiting for the guy, then you…you showed up. He was already high. Really high. That’s why I was worried about him, afraid he’d do something stupid. And he did. He jumped you and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I was going to stop him, but I was scared. When we first got there he told me if the dealer found me he’d kill me, so I stayed where I was. And then your friends came and they beat up Tony, and I was even more scared that they’d find me and hurt me, too. So I just stayed hiding, trying not to make any noise.”

“What happened after the guys left with me?”

“I was going to go get Tony and get the hell out of there, right? Because Tony was starting to get up. But then this guy came, and Tony asked for help, said some guys beat him up. And the guy was pissed, man. Really pissed. Said Tony blew it for him. And he took a brick and slammed it on Tony’s head, hard.”

Sam really started to cry then. Anna forced herself to stay composed, trying not to relive that night, the same night Sam had had to live through.

He could have stopped it, could have stopped it from the beginning. He chose not to.

“Then what happened?”

“I was afraid. I ran. I ran for blocks until I couldn’t breathe anymore. I caught a taxi home and never told anyone what I saw. I saw my brother get killed and I never said anything to anyone. All these years I’ve felt weak and ashamed because I didn’t do anything. I didn’t stop him when he did…that…to you, and I didn’t stop my brother from getting killed.”

Sam lowered the gun and turned to face the sculpture. “All I could do was make beautiful things. The beautiful things to erase all that ugliness.”

Dante rushed in and grabbed the gun from Sam. Roman cuffed him.

Susan Maclin had seen it all, heard it all, her eyes wide and tear filled as Anna walked by.

She stopped Anna. “My Tony did that to you?”

Anna nodded.

She lifted a fisted hand to her lips and began to sob. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They took Sam into the station. Dante got Pohanski and he led the interview.

In interrogation, Sam told him everything that went down twelve years ago, informed them that Tony told him his dealer was a medical student who’d gone to the same high school. Based on their suspicions about Crey Robinson, they gave Sam a photo lineup and he picked Robinson right away as the one who’d hit Tony with the brick.

It had given Anna a great sense of satisfaction when the arrogant Dr. Robinson was arrested for Tony Maclin’s murder.

Now that their involvement in the Maclin case was out in the open, Pohanski called them all into the office.

“Jesus Christ,” Pohanski said, pacing his office. “You didn’t think to mention any of this to me before now?”

Anna didn’t say a word. Neither did Dante or Roman.

“All this time. All these years. You were all involved in a murder and a cover-up. And Anna-your father?”

“Did what he thought was best, sir.”

Pohanski rubbed his hand over his bald head. “What am I supposed to do about this now?”

She didn’t think he was really asking any of them to answer that question.

“Son of a bitch. You were all kids then. And what Maclin did to you that night. Goddamn, Anna. I’m sorry about that. It’s no wonder you decided to become a cop. And a damn good one.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He shot her a glare. “Don’t thank me yet. I have to figure out what I’m going to do about this. About all of you.”

“There’s still a killer out there,” Dante said.

“Don’t remind me. My department’s stretched thin as it is. And the fact the three of you were involved in solving a cold case is-shit, this is fucked up.”

That was an understatement. “The guys saved my life that night, Captain. And everyone around me is dying because of it. Please let us figure out why and put a stop to it before everyone else around me dies.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, continuing to pace and rub his head. “Give me a goddamn minute to think, Pallino.”

She did, though it was difficult not to throw herself on his mercy and plead her case-all their cases. He had to see reason.

“You were all juveniles then, and Anna was a victim of a violent crime. And what was done to you, Anna, by Maclin-whose killer has now been found-I don’t think a prosecutor is going to want to mess with any of you. Robinson will be prosecuted for murder, he’ll probably pull a plea deal and we’ll be able to get out of this messy business with our skins intact.”

“And the other murders?”

He gave her a straight look. “You can’t investigate your father’s murder, Anna.”

“I can, though,” Dante said.

Pohanski shrugged. “I have no jurisdiction over you, Dante. But you have to work within our guidelines. And if you happen to bring Anna or Roman along to assist in an unofficial capacity, that’s up to you.”

“But you’d better have another detective sign off on everything, and dot every i and cross every goddamn t so our asses are covered.”

After Pohanski left them, Anna breathed a sigh of relief and the three of them regrouped to figure out the next steps. Sam was still a suspect in the other murders, but Anna didn’t see it.

“He was focused on all of us, but afraid, mostly,” she argued.

“He doesn’t have alibis,” Roman argued. “We can’t clear him. He stays a suspect.”

“Roman’s right,” Dante said. “You’re letting your personal feelings get in the way.”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t have personal feelings. If he’s guilty, he goes down. But other than him being a little dark and twisty, we don’t have anything on him. He just has no alibis for the nights of the murders. And when he found out he was a suspect, he bolted and hid, which meant the night I was attacked he was hiding in his own house.”

“So he claims,” Dante said.

“The bad thing is we don’t have him for anything, so he walks unless we can come up with some solid evidence,” Roman said with a grimace.

Anna dragged her fingers through her hair. “Then we’ll have to keep at him until we break him, or find the real killer.”

“We’ll take turns,” Roman said. “He’ll get so tired of talking he’ll eventually give up.”

Anna nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You look irritated,” Dante said.

Anna slid on the sofa next to him. They’d worked well into the night and had finally gone home to take a break. They’d just finished a late dinner of takeout tacos. “I have no killer locked up, that’s why I’m irritated.”

They’d gotten nothing from Maclin. They’d leaned on him for hours. Besides that night in the alley twelve years ago, he claimed to have nothing to do with the current murders. And his attorney was locking him up tight.

“But at least you have Tony Maclin’s killer.”

“One down.”

“There’s still Crey Robinson to think about as a suspect in the other murders.”

She leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m still considering it. Hard to prove.”

“Not really. We investigate his money, look at cash withdrawals and when he made them, then track his movements, see if he met with any shady characters at the hospital, since that’s where residents spend almost all their time anyway. Hospitals are notorious for gossip. The staff see everything that goes on.”

She turned her head to face him. “You’d make a good cop. How do you do that?”

He laughed. “I don’t just walk into an assignment without running background on the target. I need to know everything about a situation. I pay attention to the small details. Keeps me alive that way.”

“Your life is dangerous.”

“It can be. So can yours.”

“Not like yours, I imagine.” She swept her hand across his jaw. “Do you have to go back to it?”

The look he gave her was so intense it made her breath catch.

“Are you asking me not to?”

She paused, not sure how to answer him. She’d never ask anyone to give up the job they loved. She wouldn’t ask it of Dante, not even if she wanted to keep him safe. If he loved what he did, just like she loved her job, she’d never ask him to walk away from it.

But the doorbell rang, followed by several fast knocks, and she couldn’t answer his question.

“It’s, like, two in the morning,” she said.

Dante sprang off the sofa and peered through the peephole. “It’s Roman.”

He opened the door and Roman rushed in. He was drenched in sweat.

“What’s wrong?” Anna rushed to him.

“Gabe took a shot at me.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “What? Are you hurt?” She didn’t see any blood, but she ran her hands over him anyway.

He shook her off. “I’m fine. Pissed off, mainly because my goddamn brother tried to kill me and I don’t know why.”

“What the hell happened?” Dante asked as Anna led them into the living room to sit.

“I was on my way home from the station, about two blocks from home. Suddenly the right-rear window on my car explodes. I knew right away it was a bullet, because another shot was fired into the car. So of course I’m shocked as hell and I duck down to avoid being shot at again and trying to get my bearings at the same time so I can get a six on the shooter.

“I swerved, pulled the car over to the side of the road and grabbed my gun. When I popped up to return fire, that’s when I saw his bike speed away.”

“Are you sure it was Gabe?” Dante asked.

Roman gave them a look. “I know his bike. I know Gabe. It was him.”

Anna shook her head, unable to believe Gabe would do that. “Why would he shoot at you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you call it in?” Anna asked.

“No. I wanted to come here first, talk to the two of you. I don’t know what to do, you know? It’s Gabe.”

Dante dialed Gabe’s number and put the phone to his ear. “It goes to voice mail right away.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Anna said. “Gabe would have no reason to shoot at you.”

“That’s what I thought, too. It doesn’t make sense.”

“What if it was a hit?” Anna asked.

Dante frowned. “On Roman? Why?”

She tilted her head. “Did you forget who Gabe works for?”

“No. I just don’t think Gabe would do that. And why would he hit Roman? Is there something going on with his job that affects the local P.D.?”

Roman shook his head. “Nothing I know about.”

Anna laid her chin in her hands. “You’re right. There’s nothing going on with Bertucci and the cops. And he’d never try to hurt one of you guys.”

“Well, I hate to remind you,” Roman said, “but he tried to tonight.”

“Shit.” Dante kicked the back of the chair. This didn’t make sense. Why would Gabe take a hit out on Roman? Did Bertucci order it because of Robinson? And if so, why wouldn’t Gabe give Anna or him a heads-up? It wasn’t like him to blindly follow an order like that. He seemed loyal to his job and to Bertucci, but he wouldn’t take down one of his own brothers.

Unless…

No. The possibility wasn’t even fathomable.

“What are you thinking?” Anna asked him.

“I’m thinking I need to go find Gabe and have a talk with him.”

She stood. “I’ll go with you.”

“No. You need to stay here. With Roman. We don’t know where Gabe is or why he shot at Roman. For all we know he’s out there somewhere looking to finish the job, or hunting the rest of us.”

Anna frowned, then recognition dawned in her eyes. “You don’t think…no, Dante. Not Gabe.”

“I don’t know what to think right now, and I won’t know until I find him. Roman, you stay here with Anna. Make sure nobody gets in here but me.”

Roman nodded. “You got it.”

Anna went with Dante to the door. “You go out there alone, you’re a target.”

“He won’t hurt me.”

She let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure Roman thought that, too.”

“He won’t hurt me,” he said again. “I’ll find him and figure out what’s going on.”

She laid her palms on his chest. “If it’s Gabe, if he’s… Then he’s not thinking clearly. You don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Then I’ll take care of it.”

“Just like that?”

The look he gave her was lethal. “This is what I do, Anna.”

“I don’t want him dead.”

“He won’t be unless it’s necessary.”

He knew from the look she gave him that she didn’t like the situation. “I need to go with you.”

“No. Someone’s already made an attempt to kill you and Roman. I won’t risk bringing both of you along. Enough of us have died already. This is what I’m good at. Let me do it. And if he comes here, then the two of you can handle him and call for backup. Either way we finish this tonight.”

She hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. “All right.”

Dante loaded up ammo and an extra gun. Anna wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. He kissed her, pouring everything he had into that kiss. “I love you,” he said, and her eyes widened. “I should have said it sooner, and now isn’t the right goddamn time, but you never know and it needed to be said.”

She swept her hand across his jaw and he memorized the feel of her touch. “I love you, too. And it won’t be the last time you hear me say it.”

He waited a heartbeat, memorizing her face, the way her eyes seemed to light up whenever she looked at him.

“Stay put. Lock the door.” He kissed her again and slid out the door, listening for the lock, then got in his car and headed out, checking around the house before he left.

Everything was secure. Nothing looked out of place, so he slid into his car.

He tried Gabe’s cell again, got nothing, figured he’d go to the condo first. If Gabe was really the killer, he wouldn’t be there. He’d be hiding out, stalking them now that he’d missed his target.

When he pulled into the condo complex, Gabe’s bike was parked out front.

Pretty ballsy considering Roman could have called in units to track him down. Another thing that made no sense. He pulled his gun out and knocked on the door. No answer. He rang the bell and knocked louder, several times.

Finally, a light came on and the door flew open. Gabe looked rumpled, as if he’d been asleep.

“What the fuck are you doing here so late?” he asked, then his eyes widened. “Did something happen?”

Dante pushed him inside and closed the door, then pointed the gun at him.

“Jesus Christ, Dante. What are you doing?”

“You took a shot at Roman tonight. I want to know why.”

“A shot at…what? What the hell are you talking about? Someone shot at Roman?”

“On his way home. You shot at him twice, then took off.”

Gabe held his hands up, still looking half-asleep. “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Where’s your phone?”

Gabe blinked. “What?”

“Your phone. I tried to call you, but it went to voice mail.”

“I know. Someone stole my goddamn phone when I was at the bar earlier tonight. Went to the bathroom to take a leak, when I came out it was gone.”

“How long have you been home?”

“I don’t know. What time is it?”

“Two-thirty or so.”

“I got home around midnight. Bar was dead tonight.”

“Get your pants on and come outside with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do as I say.” He held the gun up for emphasis.

“Yeah, gimme a minute.”

Dante followed Gabe into the bedroom, where he slipped on a pair of jeans. Barefoot, he led Dante outside to his bike. Dante laid his hand on the motor of Gabe’s Harley. It was cold.

Shit.

“Let’s go back inside.”

Dante closed the door again. Gabe turned to him.

“Want to tell me what the hell you’re talking about? Someone took a shot at Roman?”

“Roman said you ambushed him a couple blocks from his house and took two shots at him while he was in his car.”

“When?”

“Less than an hour ago.”

Gabe crossed his arms. “Roman is full of shit. Why would I do that?”

“Contract hit?”

Gabe snorted. “Yeah, right. Bertucci has better things to do than kill cops. You think he wants that kind of attention? And Roman isn’t even working us. He’s not on mob stuff.”

Dante dragged a hand through his hair, feeling as if he’d just been set up.

“Roman tell you all this?”

Dante shoved his gun in his holster. “Yeah. He showed up at Anna’s tonight and told us you ambushed him.”

“Where is he now?”

“With Anna at her place. I told him to watch over her.”

Gabe frowned, then his shoulders dropped. “Fox got himself right into the henhouse.”

Dante frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Dante. Are you blind? He’s in love with her. He’s been in love with her for years.”

“He is not. He has a girlfriend. Tess somebody.”

Gabe slid him a disbelieving look. “You ever meet Tess? You ever see her around anywhere?”

“No. But-”

“But nothing. I’ve been back for two damn years and I’ve never met the woman. I don’t think she even exists.”

“Anna knows her.”

“When was the last time Anna saw them together? He might have been out with this Tess a few times, but not for a long time. She’s a front, somebody he made up or went out with just to appease Anna because he doesn’t want her to know he’s sniffing around her like a lovesick puppy.”

“Son of a bitch. I didn’t know.”

“He didn’t want you to know.”

Dante still didn’t want to believe it. Not Roman. He’d always thought Roman the most innocent out of all the brothers. The straightest one, the one least likely to do anything bad. Maybe that had been his biggest mistake.

He grabbed his phone, punched Anna’s number. It went right to voice mail.

“She’s not answering. She’d answer. She’d want to know what was happening.”

“Was Roman with you and Anna at any of the times the murders were committed?” Gabe asked.

“No, but neither were you.”

“True enough. But I didn’t bust in on you and Anna tonight accusing Roman of taking a shot at me in order to get you out of the house.”

“Fuck. And I fell for it.”

Gabe grabbed the rest of his clothes and his gun. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game Roman is playing, but we need to get to Anna.”

“In a hurry.”

They dashed out the door and into Dante’s car.

“You don’t have one of those siren-and-light thingies?”

“No.”

“Should have taken Anna’s car.”

“No shit.”

“Just speed, then. You know how to do that.”

Dante hoped he could drive fast enough to get there, because Roman had wanted him out of the house and away from Anna for a reason. He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Anna paced back and forth, watching the phone on the table next to Roman and waiting for that call from Dante. She’d already made both of them coffee, but that had only made her more jittery.

Roman sat on the sofa watching her.

“You’re making me dizzy,” he said. “Come sit down.”

She looked down at him and smiled. “Sorry. I’m nervous. And worried.” She slid onto the sofa next to him.

He patted her hand. “Quit worrying. Dante’s capable and you know he’ll call as soon as he knows something.”

“You’re right.”

“In the meantime, we should check to be sure everything’s secure around here.”

“I’m certain it’s all shut tight. But I should take Rusty out, then lock up.”

Roman stood. “Okay. I’ll do a window-and-door check in all the rooms while you run him outside.”

“Thanks.” Gun in hand, she let Rusty out and stood guard over him. Once he finished his business, she brought the dog in and closed and locked the door, then came back to the sofa, laying her gun on the table next to her.

“Everything secure?” she asked Roman.

“Yup,” he said, getting up from the sofa. “I’m going to get a soda. You want one?”

“Sure. The coffee didn’t help anyway. Any call from Dante yet?”

“No, not yet.”

She picked up her phone to check it, then frowned. “Hey, it’s turned off. What the-”

Something sharp poked into her arm and she tried to jerk away, but hands held her down. She tried to jump off the sofa, but he held her firmly down as she kicked and flailed against his grip, propelling herself forward even as the drug started to take effect. She rolled onto the floor, him on top of her.

Rusty was barking. She heard the dog barking. She saw a blur of activity, then a whimper. Then silence.

Through her hazy, drug-addled vision, she saw Roman rolling her over, smoothing her hair away from her face.

Her entire body felt like a giant weight had been piled on top of it. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak as her vision became warped. Roman’s face looked like some kind of monster swimming in front of her.

She fought to stay awake, to move her limbs, her fingers, anything. But it was no use.

She couldn’t even think straight anymore.

Why was she panicked? She couldn’t remember. She was so tired. All she wanted to do was sleep.

She blacked out.