Los Angeles, California

 

Cormac was driving on the 10 headed toward Covina when his phone began to buzz. Hoping it was Wren, he wrenched it out of his pocket.

“Hey, where are you?”

“Mr. Delaney? This is Dr. Greene. I just called to inform you that my people went to the address you indicated, but Ms. Parker was not there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we are. They searched the residence using a key under the front porch steps.”

Cormac cursed under his breath. “She’s probably at my place. Why don’t you go look there?”

“Is that one of the addresses you gave to us before?”

“Yeah. She’s probably at the Apple Valley place.”

“All right, I’ll send my team over there. It is really in our best interest that she be found.”

“I totally agree.”

Cormac disconnected the call, thinking he could be in Apple Valley in less than an hour. Maybe he could find her and coax her into going to the hospital with him. She wouldn’t like it, but maybe a little of the Sartori charm would get her to believe it was in her best interest.

He no longer cared about her best interest. He’d stopped caring when she dragged Wren out of his hotel room in a laundry cart.

God, how had he gotten himself into this mess? All he’d wanted was to make things right. He wanted to fix the mess he’d made for Aria when he charmed her to learn details about her rapist. He wanted to fix the mess his father had made of the lives of his victims’ loved ones. He wanted to fix the mistake he’d made by not standing up to his father and telling the truth in court. Most of all, he wanted to go back and save his mother.

She’d known he would come. She’d bought that little, modest house in Apple Valley because she figured he would never come looking for them in such a cheap neighborhood. He’d always scoffed at houses that all looked alike, saying those housing developments were a joke that needed to die. It seemed like the perfect hiding place.

She had security installed, cameras and alarms that were set to go off if someone even breathed in the wrong direction. And they did go off, at least once a day. The company kept threatening to shut them off if they weren’t more careful, but his mom wouldn’t change a thing. She knew there wasn’t much between them and the evil that was her husband.

The night he came, Cormac heard a noise outside his bedroom window, but he ignored it. He was tired of the alarms going off, of the paranoia that only caused his mother’s headaches to flare. So, he didn’t tell her.

What might have happened if he had told her?

He cut the phone lines, effectively disabling the security system, and climbed through her bedroom window. Cormac heard her scream and ran, but it was already too late by the time he burst through the door. Her throat was cut, and her mouth was moving, almost like a fish out of water. And his father was standing over her, the knife still in his hand.

“What a sight, huh, boy?”

He’d never forget that, never forget the absolute glee in his voice. He knew then that his father was insane. But he also knew what he was capable of.

Cormac chose his own life over the lives of all his father’s victims when he testified in court. He knew his father would kill him if he told the truth. He didn’t know how, didn’t know when, but knew he would. He saw that same darkness in his eyes there in that courtroom that had been in his eyes the night his mother died.

And he’d been paying for it all his life.

The letters began when he was in high school, just shortly after they named him Cormac. And they continued all through college, all through his training at Quantico. Some of the letters even came to him at Quantico. He’d shown them to his handlers with the Marshals Service more than once, but no one ever did anything about it. He believed they ignored the letters intentionally because his handlers blamed him for the death of that prosecutor. And they were right.

It was stupid what he’d done. He should have known what his father would do if allowed to go free. He should have known it didn’t matter one way or the other. His life wasn’t more important than the lives of all those women…all those women!

Somehow, in his mind, Aria had been lumped in with those women. She was a victim. His survivor’s guilt, his guilt over what he’d done at that trial, somehow fell on her. She was damn insane, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to separate her from the real victims of his actions. He’d brought all this down on Wren, and that wasn’t right.

It was time for Aria to go back to the hospital.

He hit the gas, determined to find her and take her in himself. But then his phone buzzed again. Had they found her at his house?

“Cormac? It’s me. I found her!”

“What? Aria?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I found her like I said I would. I came to her father’s farm, and I watched from the road, and she showed up just like you said she would. You didn’t lie to me, baby! I’m so sorry I thought you did!”

“Aria, what are you talking about?”

“Wren Ryland,” she said, drawing out each syllable like it left a nasty taste in her mouth. “I thought you were lying when you said you helped her leave my house for my protection and you took her to her father’s farm. I thought she was with you on your mysterious trip and that you were doing things with her that you wouldn’t do with me. But now I know you were telling the truth. She was here all along, just like you said. You were just protecting me!”

“Of course I was, Aria,” he said, slowing the car and pulling to the side of the highway. “Where are you now?”

“Her father’s farm. I’ve got them both in the barn.”

He closed his eyes, panic threatening to blow the whole thing up.

“Aria—”

“When are you coming home? It’d be so great if we could deal with this together.”

“I am home, Aria. I’m in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, good! Come to the farm, and we’ll kill them together. Then we’ll have that secret to keep us close.”

He lifted the phone away from his face, muttering some words he didn’t want her to hear. Then he carefully put it back against his ear, taking a deep breath to keep himself steady.

“Listen, Aria, don’t do anything until I get there. Like you said, we should do this together.”

“Yes. That’s what I want.”

“Good. I’m not far away. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll be waiting, darling!”

He disconnected the call and gunned the car’s engine, driving off the nearest onramp to the irritation of all the cars behind him. He was turned around and on his way to Sierra Madre in a matter of seconds, trying to decide if there was anyone he could call for help. Only one name jumped to mind, a name he wasn’t sure he could trust.

But what choice did he have?