Bobbie listened intently for Devine to return. She’d tugged at the tape until it was loose enough to get one hand out, and then the other. She stretched down and dragged her knife from its sheath and used it to cut through the tape around her ankles—in the back where Devine wouldn’t be able to see unless he turned her over.
The fingers of her right hand tightened around the handle of the knife. Come get me now, asshole.
So far she hadn’t heard any sounds to indicate there was anyone else nearby. If Nick was here—and alive—he was bound and gagged. Was Devine keeping him at a different location?
Fear twisted in her belly at the idea that Weller could be coming. What if this had been Weller’s plan all along and she’d played right into it?
She did not want to be the reason Nick died. Too many people had died because of her. Her jaw tightened. It was going to end—one way or the other—today.
The beam of a flashlight neared and Devine crouched down, holding the light close to her face. Bobbie squinted at the brightness of it.
“It’s time, Bobbie.”
She tuned out all other thought and focused on the monster in front of her. Distract him. Put him off balance. “You know, Devine, I get why you murdered the Parkers and Manning. You had to lure Nick here.” She made a dismissive face. “I even understand you wanted to hurt me when you killed Bauer and tried to kill the chief. But what did your aunt or Deana Venable ever do to you? Or Mark Hanover for that matter?”
He exhaled a big breath. “Bobbie, Bobbie, Bobbie, how can you still see the world through those rose colored glasses after what Gaylon Perry did to you?”
She laughed. “I see. A tough guy like you doesn’t want to share his dark and dirty secrets. What’d your aunt do? Make you clean behind your ears? Wash your mouth out with soap?”
A smile twisted across his face. “Mostly she loved to watch, but there were plenty of times when she joined in.”
He didn’t speak for half a minute and Bobbie feared she had pushed the wrong button. She could not screw this up. Focus. He’ll see your fear.
“Dear old Aunt Pearl always wanted a daughter. She was quite bored with her nephew, so she dressed me up like a little girl and we had tea parties.” He made a sound of dismissal. “She even taped my penis against my balls so it wouldn’t show through the cute little silky panties she bought me. It all seemed quite innocent if uncomfortable to me. I was just a child after all.”
Bobbie tightened her fingers around the handle of her knife. Keep talking, you bastard.
“But then the Colonel noticed what a pretty little girl I was.” Fury tightened his lips. “He did things to me.” Devine cleared his throat. “And she never lifted a finger to stop him. I waited a long time to show her just how much I appreciated her looking the other way.”
Bobbie braced to make a move. Devine grabbed her arm. “Now, let’s go have some fun with your friend before I put him out of his misery.”
Her heart pounded with a burst of adrenaline as he hauled her to her feet. When he would have dragged her from the room she jerked at his hold, simultaneously swinging her free arm around and thrusting the knife at him. The blade swiped across his arm, piercing fabric and skin.
He growled and grabbed her forearm, holding back the knife before she could stab him in the chest. She pushed harder, roaring with determination but he was stronger than her. He forced the blade back toward her.
“Do you really think I’m going to let a bitch like you best me?”
She kicked at him. Tried to head-butt him but he dodged the move. With one arm bracketed around her waist holding her tight against his body, he forced the knife to her throat with the other hand.
Bobbie froze, her fury drained away and the survival instinct seared through her.
“I could kill you right now,” Devine whispered in her ear, the blade pressed against her throat. “But I want to fuck you first just to see what Gaylon Perry risked coming all the way back here for.”
“Just look how that worked out for him.” She spat the words at Devine.
The blade drew away from her throat and he shoved her to the ground. He tossed the knife behind him. When she would have scrambled away he drew his weapon, taking aim at her head.
“No one’s coming to save you this time, Bobbie.” He got down on his knees, straddling her waist. He placed the flashlight on the ground so that the beam shone on her face and torso. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m a lot smarter than Perry was.” He reached for her sweater with his free hand, his right keeping the muzzle of the weapon pressed against her cheek. “Let’s see some of those scars I’ve heard so much about.”
He shoved the hem upward, revealing her bra. One finger slipped into a cotton cup. She shuddered in revulsion. He ripped her bra loose and squeezed her breast. Son of a bitch she wanted to kill him!
“Hmm. Not bad.” His hand trailed down her torso until he reached her waistband. He unfastened her jeans and she went stiff and utterly still. His disgusting fingers inched farther and farther downward. “Are you always this hot, Detective?”
“Get off me, you piece of shit!” She grabbed his right arm and tried to move the weapon away from her face.
He laughed. “Don’t make me pull this trigger, Bobbie.” He leaned closer. “I’ll still fuck you even with half your head blown off.”
She twisted her body and pushed with all her might to get that gun out of her face. He snatched his hand from her jeans and rammed it against her throat, cutting off the air to her lungs and pinning her to the ground. She pushed harder. Had to... She managed to lift her head just far enough to clamp down on his right hand with her teeth.
He screamed and jerked away from her, the barrel shifting from her face. But his left hand stayed locked on her throat.
She punched him in the balls.
He backhanded her and the gun flew from his grasp.
Bobbie grabbed for his neck but he shot upward out of her reach. The flashlight rolled away.
She kicked at him but he moved up and away too quickly. It was then that she realized he wasn’t moving of his own volition. His feet dangled in the air, the beam of the flashlight spotlighting the bizarre struggle.
Bobbie scrambled for the weapon. She palmed it and groped for the flashlight while Devine struggled with whoever had hauled him off her.
“I give up!” Devine screeched between gasps for air.
Bobbie got to her feet, the weapon leveled on the sound of his voice. She turned the beam of the flashlight in that direction.
Devine held his hands out to his sides in a surrender position. His head was cocked back as if someone had him by the hair.
Bobbie spotted her knife. The blade was pressed against Devine’s throat.
Nick.
The light settled on Nick’s profile.
Relief rushed through her. He was alive.
“I give up,” Devine repeated. “Tell him, Bobbie. I’m surrendering. I have a burner phone in my back pocket. Call it in.”
Bobbie took a step toward him. “Keep your hands up.” She looked to Nick. “You okay? You can put the knife down. I’ve got him.”
Nick met her gaze, his eyes black with rage. He didn’t respond and uncertainty trickled through her.
“We’ve got him,” she repeated. “Put the knife away.”
Her heart bumped harder and harder against her sternum. Finally the blade eased away from Devine’s throat and she could breathe again. Her own throat ached from where the bastard had nearly crushed her windpipe.
They had him now. The son of a bitch wasn’t getting away. She relaxed marginally as she reached toward Devine to get the burner. “Put your hands on top of your head and get down on the ground, you piece of shit.”
“Whatever you say, partner.” The bastard started to reach upward and then he grabbed for the weapon.
The knife ripped across his throat.
Hot blood spurted across Bobbie’s face.
Devine’s hands went to the gaping wound. Blood spewed between his fingers.
He dropped to the ground.
Bobbie fell to her knees next to him, his blood oozing down her face.
Devine twitched once, twice and then the spurt of blood stopped and he stilled.
Her heart thundering, she shifted the beam away from his body until the light landed on Nick. Blood dripped from his hands, from the blade of the knife he still clutched.
There will come a day, soon I fear, when he will be forced to kill. When that time comes he will learn the deep, dark secret he has denied for so long.
Weller’s words echoed through her. Had he set all of this in motion in hopes of the events culminating in this moment?
The bloody knife fell from Nick’s hand.
Once he has experienced taking a life, he will not be able to resist killing again and again.