Ethan lifted his head. Cupped her face in both his hands. And the emotion on his face had her throat clogging. “I spent more time than I care to remember cursing you for leaving. But there was never a moment that I regretted meeting you.”

Alexa’s heart did a slow, lazy roll in her chest. “You’ll never know how hard it was to force myself to walk away,” she whispered. Decisions, made for all the right reasons, could still haunt for a lifetime.

His face lowered slowly to hers. She closed the distance between them and brushed her lips lightly over his. Once. Twice. And then settled her mouth more firmly and sank into the kiss.

The gesture began achingly tender. Filled with shared pain and memories. But when Alexa drew away, when her eyes slowly opened, what she saw in Ethan’s pale blue gaze had her pulse stuttering.

Desire.

A smoky tendril of heat suffused her. The emotions she’d sought to wall off minutes earlier tumbled forth at the first taste of him. There was too much between them, and their proximity for the last few days had chipped away at the intervening years. The pain was still fresh. The chemistry still existed. And the desire was just as hot and heady as it’d been all that time ago.

Restraint had been too hard-learned to surrender it easily. But with Ethan’s arms around her Alexa felt it slipping away even as their lips met again.

Ethan stroked a lazy path up her spine, and she shuddered in response. Now was the time to heed caution and step aside, before there were any more regrets between them. And she would, in a moment. Or perhaps two…

His head dipped, and his teeth closed over the cord in her neck, testing not quite painfully. Reason clouded. Neither of them had escaped unscathed from the hurt of their past. But this aspect of it…She dragged her lips along his jaw, felt the scrape of whiskers against her mouth and the sensation had her senses humming. She’d long thought there was something wrong with her…something permanently broken, because no other man had made her feel like this. Combustible and alive.

There was a flare in the pit of her belly, hot and immediate. He knew how to kiss a woman, hot and devastating. With a single-minded intensity that wiped her mind clean and had the rest of the world dimming. Inner fires flaring. She opened her mouth beneath his and dove into the flames.

His tongue glided along hers. His flavor was dark temptation, lethal to her senses. Her fingers danced up the front of his shirt, undoing buttons along the way until she could slide her hands inside the fabric to skate her fingers over his hard-muscled chest, her fingers flexing in pleasure.

He cupped the back of her head in one palm, but there was nothing gentle about the gesture. His mouth devoured hers, their tongues tangling, breath mingling, teeth clashing. Swinging her around, he walked her backward until she felt the wall at her back and still he didn’t lift his mouth from hers. Her muscles melted, hot wax to molten flame. His hunger summoned an answering recklessness.

He urged her legs apart with his knee then stepped between them. His arousal pressed against her belly and she squirmed against him, wanting to feel him where she was empty and aching. As if aware of her frustration, his hands went to her butt and he lifted her. With her legs wrapped around his hips, Alexa rocked against him, feeling his reaction even if she couldn’t manage to drag her eyes open to watch it.

His lips lifted from hers for a moment, and immediately her system mourned the loss. She felt his hand in her hair, and her eyes fluttered open to see him drawing the pins from it one by one, dropping them to the floor. When he had the strands free, he threaded his fingers through them, his gaze slitted.

With sudden urgency, Alexa pushed the shirt over his shoulders, and he finally shifted enough to shrug out of the garment one arm at a time. Her head lolled against the wall as her fingers discovered the planes of his chest, the hollows along his ribs, the angles where bone met sinew.

He began unfastening her shirt, and her breath caught. Held. There was something exquisitely sensuous about focusing on touch alone. The languid slip of each button from its hole. The inch of exposed flesh bathed by Ethan’s clever, wicked tongue. Her skin prickled in anticipation of his lips long seconds before it was tasted.

He took his time. Each button was released with deliberate care. Every inch of bared skin treated to the same sensual exploration. Alexa lost herself in the teasing journey she mapped along his biceps. Across his shoulders, her fingers flexing on the cut muscles of his delts, iron beneath her touch.

The rollicking in her pulse felt new. Heady. Every brush of his lips was a promise of pleasures to come. But it also fueled a quiet desperation in her system. She wanted to feel him, all of him. Flesh against flesh. Their bodies sealed so closely that not even a breath of air could fit between them. And she needed him quaking too. Wanted to unleash the primitive nature he’d learned to restrain. She wanted, quite frankly, to strip him of every defense, until there was no guard, no pretense between them.

To that end, she went on a quest to unharness his control. He released her fourth button then, and her breath caught as his tongue delved into her cleavage. Danced along the top of her bra where flesh met lace. It took all the strength she could muster to concentrate on finding the places that made him shudder. The soft velvety skin beneath his arms. A fingernail scraping over one male nipple.

And the feel of his touch faltering, the hiss of his indrawn breath, was its own reward.

She brushed her fingers along his spine, feeling the flesh punctuated by vertebrae. Her fingers faltered when they discovered a knotted ridge of skin below one shoulder blade. It was a reminder of all that had transpired since she’d last seen him. Their romance had lasted less than two years. Their separation, two decades. How, then, could the passion ignite this quickly? This immediately?

His muscles quivered beneath her touch like an impatient stallion, and his hands hurried a bit as he pulled her blouse up to undo the bottom buttons. With one practiced movement, he released the front clasp of her bra, and, with the air of a man contemplating a feast, spread the fabric aside.

Her nipples were tight knots awaiting his touch. And when it didn’t immediately come, Alexa dragged her eyelids open, a demand on her lips.

It went unuttered. Ethan was staring at her with a searing intensity. It lingered on her face. Her breasts. The look was a little possessive. Slightly cruel. A man surveying a woman he meant to take at his leisure. She knew intuitively he’d pleasure and take pleasure in return and that certainty sent comets of heat through her veins.

Eyes locked with his, she arched her back, a carnal invitation. Alexa watched the color slash across his cheekbones. The glint in his eyes and his shadowed jaw gave him a sinister cast that was more exciting than frightening.

His jaw clenched, and she sensed that he was battling the urge to rush to fulfillment, an urge she wouldn’t protest. Alexa saw the moment he won the struggle, noted the slight curve of his lips as he reached out a finger to brush it lightly over her nipple.

Alexa slipped a hand behind his neck. Obeying her unspoken command, he sucked strongly from her. The slight scrape of teeth against her skin had hunger leaping forth like an uncaged tiger. Her fingers twisted in his hair, urging him to take more.

Her childhood had built a wariness in her, a guard beyond her years. She’d spent decades turning her defenses into a fortress. But Ethan had always been able to dismantle it with an ease that was alarming. He could make her feel things no one else could. Still frightening. Terrifying even. But also rewarding. Because her physical response to him was just as keen.

He lifted his mouth, and the cooler air tightened her nipple almost painfully. She met his lips with her own, an edged blade of desperation slicing through her. She felt alive in his arms. Achingly alive. And the heat careening through her veins chased away the chill that solitude could bring. There was danger here. Alexa wasn’t too far gone to be aware of it. Their shared history was fraught with heartbreak and complications. But it faded in the face of the sensation that heightened unbearably everywhere they touched. Every pulse point was razor-edged.

When he swung her into his arms, she opened her eyes dazedly, her wits completely dulled by the passion-induced fog. Ethan moved to the door, flicked off the light and then turned to cross to the bed. He laid her on the mattress and followed her down quickly as if to stem a protest. He wasn’t going to get one.

Alexa trailed the nail of her index finger over his shoulder and down his defined bicep over to his pec to trace a teasing circle around one flat nipple. His eyes narrowed in response and a small smile curled her lips. She leaned forward to nip his collarbone as he swiftly stripped off her clothes. Pressing her down on the bed, his arms framed her body, his mouth demanding on hers. The room was draped in shadows except for the jeweled glow from the city lights through the window. They spilled a soft rainbow of color over the bed, a contrast to the shroud of shadows enveloping them.

She savored the tactile onslaught. The stroking of Ethan’s heated palms over her skin, hot and demanding on her curves. He trailed a finger up her leg, circling teasingly around the heat centered between her thighs and leaned in for a kiss. Deep. Wet. Rawly carnal. He sent his tongue in search of hers at the same time he parted her slick folds and entered her with one exploring finger.

Her hips arched, twisting beneath him at the dual assault. Her blood was churning in her veins, frothing and crashing like whitewater. There was primitive demand in his kiss. In his touch. It was a demand she reciprocated.

Alexa’s hands streaked over his body, tempting, teasing; reveling in the feel of sleek skin covering unyielding muscle. He moved his leg over one of hers as if to hold her in place and she was reminded that he was still half-dressed.

The realization had her eyelids fluttering open. There was something intimately vulnerable lying naked beneath a man who was still partially clothed. Her fingers trailed along the flesh above his waistline; she felt his stomach quiver beneath her touch and smiled, slow and knowing. It was heady to realize he was as susceptible to the barrage of sensation as she was.

He pressed against her clit with his thumb, rubbing rhythmically even as he continued exploring her with his finger. Her vision grayed, sensation arrowing to the pit of her belly. It took effort to gather her scattered senses and work his zipper down, with more than a hint of desperation.

His touch grew urgent. He lowered his head, took a beaded nipple between his teeth and worried it gently. But there was nothing gentle about her response. Her back arched off the mattress in an involuntary reaction.

She felt him smile against her breast and the gesture of male satisfaction steeled her resolve. Pushing his fly open, she freed him from his boxer briefs and took him in her hand, squeezing firmly. His body jerked against her. She had time for one heated glide down the length of him and up again before he lifted his head from her breast and caught her hand with his free one, even as his knowing dancing fingers continued exploring her.

“You…don’t…play fair,” she gasped. Her muscles tightened as she struggled against giving into the vortex of desire that threatened to draw her toward the inevitable finish.

“Baby…” His kiss was possessive. Primitive. “I’m not playing.”

She couldn’t summon a response. Sensation slammed against sensation. There was an urgency in his touch. An unvarnished command. And while she could fight the sensual onslaught, the conclusion wouldn’t be denied.

He was saying something else, his voice a ragged whisper. but the sound slipped away, as evasive as wisps of fog. Nerve endings formed in a tight waiting ball of urgency. Her control grew tenuous.

And then it snapped, eliciting a cry from her lips as she shattered, falling headlong into a pleasure too long denied.

Her breath panting and uneven, she was aware of his movements on the bed beside her, swift and jerky. She heard a slight sound, realizing he was donning protection, and the realization had reason returning.

But then he was beside her again, the feel of his smooth naked flesh a sensation she couldn’t resist. And the longing, recently satisfied, began to climb again.

She leaned over him, intent on exploring his body with her lips one inch at a time. But now he was the eager one. His muscles shuddering with tension, he urged her astride him, his eyes glittering with passion.

Alexa rose above him, and hesitated for a moment, her senses filled with him. There was a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. The skin was drawn tightly across his cheekbones. And the signs of his desire reignited her own. She guided him inside her and the tether on his restraint snapped.

He clutched her hips in hard desperate fingers as he urged her to a faster pace. She braced her hands on his shoulders and met every upward lunge, her movements as urgent as his.

Her blood began to pulse again, scorching rivers under her skin. Need coiled in her belly.

The rhythm quickened. Breath shortened. The climax shook her first, startling in its intensity. Her release triggered his own, and he gave one last violent thrust upward before coming, his fingers hard on her hips. And a sound that might have been her name on his lips.

* * *

The lights outside the window were keeping Ethan awake. He should get out of bed. Shut the blinds.

But once he was up, he’d have no reason not to keep moving. To grab his clothes. Go back to his room. The idea was curiously unappealing. So, in the end, he did none of those things.

He stroked Alexa’s hip, one arm looped around her to keep her close. The position felt foreign. He hadn’t slept—actually slept—with a woman since his last marriage. Keeping things casual meant no obligation to spend the night, no awkward morning-afters. He’d gotten used to his own space.

Which didn’t explain why he was reluctant to move away from Alexa now.

There would be time enough in the morning to examine the sneaky little doubts that were circling. The ones that said he’d screwed up big time in a big way tonight. But on the heels of that thought came another; he and Alexa were adults, far removed from the two reckless kids they’d been a lifetime ago. They’d both remarried. Had fulfilling careers. And they were both experienced enough to know that great sex didn’t have to come with strings.

But that thought was oddly disturbing, so he pushed it away. Instead, he thought of every snippet she’d revealed about her past since joining the team. And it was far more, he was coming to realize, than he’d known even while they’d been married.

There’d been hints of course. The “homeschooling” that required her to educate herself alone in the library. The fact that she’d never let him drop her off in front of her house. That she’d purposefully preempted his intention to accompany her to tell her mother about the pregnancy.

She startled a little in her sleep, and he stroked her delicate spine until her muscles went lax again.

After meeting Reisman for the first time recently, Ethan realized that Alexa’s last meeting with her mother had been far worse than she’d ever let on. Somehow, everything was clearer with the distance of time. How a life of solitude and abuse had caused the wariness in her eyes, the guard so at odds with her gut-wrenching beauty. It explained why she’d been slow to smile. Slower to trust. At the time, instead of wondering what had caused her defenses, he’d been focused on slipping beneath them. Each smile he’d teased from her had felt like a reward. Each kiss an unexpected gift.

She’d told him she was leaving him so he could have the life that would have been his before the pregnancy. What he’d never been able to make her understand then was that everything had irrevocably changed once she’d walked into his life. And again, when she’d walked out of it.

It didn’t matter. Not anymore. If all they had were a few stolen moments before they parted again, Ethan wasn’t going to deny himself that.

This time would be different. When this case was over, they’d walk away without regrets. He tucked Alexa closer to his side and shut his eyes. And struggled to silence the apprehension that lingered.

* * *

Alexa still woke up slowly. There was tossing and turning involved. At one point, she buried her head in the pillow. The early morning sun streaming into the room had awakened Ethan and would eventually—despite her best efforts—wake her, too.

She flopped onto her back, one arm folded over her eyes. Moments later, she lowered it, a frown marring her beautiful brow. And finally, after several minutes, her eyelids fluttered open.

He smiled, charmed. “Good morning.” Ethan watched the emotions flash across her face. Shock. Confusion. Realization. Embarrassment. Followed by a languid smile that had his blood heating again.

“Ah…hello.” She struggled to sit up in bed, making a desperate grab for the sheet when it slipped below her breasts and pulled it higher. “What time is it?”

“Early.” He rolled to one elbow while surreptitiously tugging at the sheet she held. “Should have closed the blinds last night.”

She lifted a hand to push her hair back over her shoulder, her gaze going to the window. “That would have helped.” She gave another pull at the sheet. He tugged it down another couple of inches, enough to bare one nipple.

Alexa gave a wild grab for the bedcover and found it caught securely by him.

“Then again,” he mused, reaching out a finger to tease her breast, “there’s something to be said for daylight.” He rolled over her, propping his weight on his elbows and kissed her, long and lingeringly.

“Ethan…” she started.

There was a primitive thrill at the sound of his name on her lips, her skin naked against his. And he was beginning to be grateful the dawn light had woken them early. Alexa’s arms slowly twined around his neck, one hand going to his jaw while she opened her mouth beneath his.

In the next moment, he stilled, listening. Then mentally cursed when he recognized the small sound that had interrupted them. “My cell.”

He moved away unwillingly and rolled off the bed, going in search of his pants. Drew the phone out of the pocket, he answered. “Yeah.”

There was a momentary pause and then, “Ethan?” His eyes slid shut for a moment. Jonah Bannon. The jolt back to reality was jarring.

“What’s up?”

“I stopped by your room and knocked, but there was no answer.”

Because he hadn’t been in his room. Ethan cut his gaze to Alexa. She was sitting against the pillows, the sheet neatly in place around her now that he wasn’t there to devil her. “I’m out for a run.” The expression Alexa made at his excuse had him grinning. “DMV send copies of the Tillman licenses yet?”

“Yeah. And you’re going to want to see this.”

Adrenaline zinged up his spine. “I’ll be at your room in a few.” He disconnected.

“One of the driver’s license photos matched?”

“We’ll soon see.” Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for his clothes. He’d have to take a few minutes to shower and change, and he counseled himself to patience. They’d thought they’d been close before, only to have their suspects cleared. His gaze went to Alexa who had apparently forgotten her need for modesty and was swiftly striding, gloriously nude, to the bathroom. He took a moment to enjoy the view as he finished dressing, all the while damning Ian’s timing.

The case came first. It was telling that he even had to remind himself of that. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel a lingering sense of regret when he opened the door to her room and closed it softly behind him.

* * *

“Far more similarities to Patrick’s forensic sketch than Fornier’s.” Alexa surveyed the copy of the license photo critically, excitement radiating through her veins. “Take away the gray hair and mustache—and the attempt in the fake ID to make his skin look more weathered—and that’s this guy.”

“No mistake about it,” Ethan agreed. They were all huddled around the desk in Bannon’s bedroom. “And look at the address listed.” He sent Alexa a meaningful look. “Brandon, Manitoba. It’s a couple of hours away from the Assiniboine River.”

The satisfaction filling her had less to do with her correct assumption and much more with the knowledge they were closing in on the offender. He couldn’t know they had descriptions of his vehicles. Or that they knew his name. Where he lived. Those facts were weapons they’d use to track him down. And after the image he’d ambushed her with yesterday, Alexa allowed herself a moment to enjoy their advantage. “What’s next?”

“We went to the online local property records and punched in his name,” Ethan answered. “He’s a property owner. Thanks to Google Earth, we have a picture of his home, although we can be fairly sure he isn’t there now.”

“Did you find anything online about his marital status?” It wouldn’t be unusual for a serial offender like Tillman to have a wife and family who were completely unaware of his activities. But Alexa didn’t think that was the case here. He might be divorced or had a failed relationship in his past, but she was betting he was a loner.

“I’ve got a call in to the Brandon RCMP detachment and the local police department. They can get us all available details about the man and then,” there was a glint in Ethan’s eyes as he looked at all of them, “once we have a warrant, we’re mounting a raid on Amos Tillman’s base of operations.”

* * *

“Bet Friedrich is pissed to be missing this.” There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in Jonah’s words.

“He’s on a plane. He’ll be here soon.” Ethan gave the equipment in the Halifax RCMP interview room one final adjustment before stepping away, sliding another impatient look at the clock.

“That’s good.” Ian was bent over his laptop. “He deserves to be here when we take this bastard down.”

They were a long way from that point, Alexa thought. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact to keep her excitement in check. But they were far closer than the team had ever gotten before. The opportunity to stop the notorious killer before he struck again seemed within reach.

“Information I’ve gotten so far is that Tillman is single.” Ethan prowled the room as if unable to stay still. “Neighbors don’t know much about him. His property is twenty acres, and the nearest neighbor is five miles away.”

“The remoteness of the house would have been a draw for him,” Alexa added. Tillman had been isolated throughout his childhood in one fashion or another. First with corporal punishment by his father and then by becoming a nameless, faceless child in the merry-go-round of the child welfare system. Overlooked and underestimated. That was part of the profile she’d written from the beginning. But he’d gained the power he’d lacked as a child with his technical prowess. The finder of secrets. The exacter of punishment.

“Finally,” Ethan muttered as the screen came to life. The Manitoba ERT command center and team members were parked down the road from Tillman’s home, out of sight. “The members are equipped with weapon lights and helmets with cameras and night vision monoculars attached,” he told Alexa. “They probably have an infrared lens over their lights so they can be seen only by someone with a night vision capable device.”

“Or an infrared-capable camera feed,” Ian added, without taking his eyes off the screen. It was divided into five sections, one for each of the cameras’ images. The tactical unit moved carefully up the rutted, tree-draped drive for a quarter mile until a clearing appeared. A small white farmhouse was situated on it with an adjacent garage, flanked by another small structure on the other side of it. The old-fashioned wooden swinging doors on the garage would have to be manually opened.

The members of the team halted while they were still under cover of trees. “Change of entry strategy.” A quiet voice narrated the scene. “There’s a bar placed over the outside of the garage doors. We’ll try that way first.”

Alexa frowned. As far as security went, locking the structure from the outside made no sense. Unconsciously, she leaned forward on her chair, holding her breath as the team crept up to the garage doors. Lifted away the bar. But when they tried one of the doors, it held fast. Comprehension dawned. The doors were also secured on the inside.

One member used the breaching device on the right door, and after a couple of attempts, it swung open. Two men entered first, weapons ready, followed by the remaining three.

There was nothing of interest in the interior. One man tried the doors on the metal cupboards lining one wall. They were locked. Another member opened what looked like freezer tucked into a corner of the space. An officer splintered off to the right, approaching a single door that would lead to the shed. “Touchpad entry here.” His voice sounded on the live feed.

One of the team members picked up the breaching device and used it on the shed door. The entrance held up better than Merkel’s had. It took three tries to knock it down.

No one in the conference room seemed to be breathing. Their attention was glued to the scene unfolding in front of them onscreen. Half the team entered through the battered entrance. Flashlights attached to the men’s helmets pierced the shadowy interior. The only light inside it came from the center of the space. The men spread across the area, and Alexa’s breath caught. “Oh my God.”

The screened-in pen took up most of the room in the area. A strobe of brilliant blue and violet fluttered inside it, a perpetual flash of motion. The scene grew clearer as one of the men approached the enclosure. It was filled with dragonflies.

“He breeds them himself,” she murmured. At some point, he had to have come by a pair illegally, but he hadn’t left his supply to chance. “How does he care for them while he’s gone?” The eggs were probably laid in the child’s wading pool in the center of the pen. But the adult insects wouldn’t live long without a constant source of food.

“Stand up! Arms over your head! Up! Up! Now!”

Her attention snapped to the screen. The other men raced to join the one who’d barked the order. “It can’t be Tillman,” Ian muttered. “No way that bastard got out of the province undetected.”

“It’s a kid,” Nyle said wonderingly.

A flashlight pinned a boy against the wall of the building, his slight figure trembling as he squinted against the beam. His hair was ragged as if someone had chopped it off with a knife. His clothes were too small.

“Are you aliens?”

The men lowered their weapons as one. “Son, what are you doing in here?”

“Anis Tera makes me live here. He’ll kill us if he finds out you broke his door.” His shoulders shook as he started to cry. “I think he’s killed people before.”

* * *

“The boy is traumatized, as you can imagine.” Ethan had an officer from Brandon’s RCMP detachment on speakerphone. “He isn’t answering questions at this point. He seems convinced that the man he calls Anis Tera is coming back and will kill him.”

A spike of anger ignited in Ethan’s chest. Tillman’s abuse as a child hadn’t kept him from perpetuating the cycle. There didn’t seem to be any line the offender wouldn’t cross when it came to gratifying his own needs.

“The ERT team found a cell phone in the shed,” he told the officer tersely. “One of those old Firefly phones they used to make for kids so the parents could program it to receive and call out only one number. There’s no redial function or call history. One of the buttons needed to make an emergency call was disabled. We suspect Tillman used it to keep tabs on the boy, and we need that phone number.”

“A warrant…”

“Is in the works. But it will take hours to get the records of incoming calls, and maybe the boy can help. He might have used the cell at some point to call Tillman. We want to ask him a few questions.”

“I don’t know…the boys’ parents are here. I think they’re ready to take him home until an official interview can take place.”

“We have Dr. Alexa Hayden on our task force, and I think she’s the one person who could coax the boy to answer a few questions without further traumatizing him. Run that by the parents.” Ethan held while the officer conveyed his request.

“You realize the parents are going to believe I’m a child psychologist.” It was clear that Alexa wasn’t comfortable with the deception.

“That’s what I’m counting on.” He was undeterred by her frown. “With your background, you’ll know exactly how to speak to him. And he’s the quickest avenue to the information we need.”

She looked unconvinced, but she subsided. Ethan couldn’t stem his feeling of urgency. If the parents agreed, the boy was unlikely to be harmed by answering a few questions. And if he had the information Ethan sought, it would save them hours of waiting for the cell company to come through with records.

When they were this close to capturing Tillman, they needed to take every advantage they could.

“The parents agreed to a short interview.” The officer had come back on the speakerphone. “I’ll set up a video chat if you give me your information.”

As Ethan supplied the call details, Alexa pulled the pins from her hair and speared her fingers through the strands to loosen them around her shoulders. His throat dried when he recalled taking the same action himself last night. Logically, he knew she was preparing to face the boy. With her hair loose, she’d look younger. More approachable.

But there was no denying the instant bolt of lust that twisted through him at the sight. It was a byproduct of last night. He knew that. The control he’d maintained since she’d walked into the airport wasn’t nearly as easy to regain after it’d been unchained.

He noted Nyle’s eyes on Alexa and his slack-jawed reaction. “Roll your tongue back into your mouth,” he muttered in an aside to the man. And he refused to label his irritation as possessiveness.

The officer shot him a look. Grinned. “I’m married, not dead.”

Ethan’s laptop rang. He crossed to where he’d left it on the table and waited for Alexa to join him. She sat down in front of it as he accepted the call. Bannon hadn’t returned from getting the warrant signed, but Nyle and McManus drew closer so they could hear the conversation while staying out of the picture.

The boy was older than he’d first appeared. Nine, maybe. And Ethan could see how pale and thin he was. Malnourished, likely. One fist clenched by his side. One more charge to bring against Tillman.

An RCMP officer in the background made the introductions. “Logan Sherwood and his parents, Marcia and Trey Sherwood.”

The boy was sitting in between his parents, who both had their arms around him as if they could shield him from future harm. His face was half turned into his dad’s shoulder. Ethan’s anticipation chilled a bit. The kid didn’t look any too cooperative.

“Hi, Logan.” Alexa’s voice was easy. “My name is Alexa. I’m so glad to be able to talk to you. I’ve never met a real-life hero before.”

The boy shifted his face so both eyes were visible, but made no response.

“You know what a hero is, Logan?” she continued, propping her chin on one fist. “It’s someone who’s really scared, but they’re still brave. I think you’ve been very brave for a long time, haven’t you?”

Logan’s expression was uncertain. “I was scared.”

Alexa’s eyes widened. “Of course you were. Any of us would have been. But you stayed strong and smart and waited for someone to come help. That’s what heroes do.”

He inched away from his father. “I had to learn things,” he said in a near whisper. “I had to learn what he wanted me to know or else he’d hurt me.”

Because he was watching so closely, Ethan caught the slight wince in Alexa’s eyes, but her voice was steady. “He’s a bad man, Logan. He’s never going to hurt you again.”

Sounding unconvinced, he asked, “Is he ever coming back here?”

She leaned toward the screen, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Can I tell you a secret?” She waited for his slow nod before continuing. “The RCMP team here is very close to catching him. He won’t be getting back there ever again.”

The boy said nothing but straightened in his chair. Ethan suppressed a surge of pride. Alexa could establish a rapport with anyone.

“Can you tell me about some of the things you had to learn?”

“Mostly stuff about the insects he kept. The dragonflies, especially. I had to know how to feed them and keep the right temperature during the winter.” His voice grew a bit more animated. “I had to learn the real name for them. Anisoptera.”

“That’s a big word, isn’t it? I’ll bet you took care of things when the man was gone. Did he ever call and check on you when he was away?”

Logan nodded, but the question drained the bit of animation from his face. “He’d call and see if everything was all right with the dragonflies.”

“I’ll bet you took good care of them. Did you ever have problems while he was away? Any reason to call him?”

“I never wanted to talk to him. But a few days ago, I ran out of food. I had to call and ask him what I could eat.”

Ethan clenched his jaw to keep from cursing. Logan’s mother looked like she was on the verge of tears as she tenderly pushed the hair back from the boy’s face.

“See,” Alexa said encouragingly. “That’s another way you were smart. You had to remember that telephone number, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “And he gave me the code to open the door into the garage so I could get food from the freezer. I remembered that, too.”

“Can you tell me what the phone number was?”

The boy rattled it off, and Ethan scribbled it in a notebook he’d taken from his suit jacket, a feeling of triumph filling him. The ERT team had reported an extensive computer layout in the man’s home. Hopefully, Tillman’s love of technology extended to cell phones. With the most recent ones, a cell phone ping resulted in an exact location.

“Thank you for talking with me, Logan.” Alexa smiled at the boy. “I’ll bet you can’t wait to get back to your house with your mom and dad.”

“And my dog, Dexter,” he added. “Mom and Dad say he’s really missed me.”

“He’s going to be pretty excited to see you.”

He was quiet for a moment, and his expression screwed up again, as if he were about to cry. “Alexa? Are you afraid of scary movies?”