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She doesn’t want to be found.
28
Special Agent Fallon Baxter
“Don’t you dare scoot one inch closer,” I’m quick to reprimand Jack as I sink into the bubbling cauldron of my hot tub. “No playing footsies either. I’m not buying that it was an accident stuff.”
“Fine,” he says, helping himself to a slice of pizza perched on the table butted up next to us and he passes me a slice as well. “But that threat runs both ways.” He shoots a dark grin my way, and something in me pinches with heat. Most likely because I’m sure there are volcanos cooler than this boiling oil we’ve settled into.
The sun dips below the horizon and transforms the lake just past my cabin into a canvas of fiery orange and glowing purple as it mirrors the sky above.
It’s been well over twenty-four hours since we caught the serial killer who was terrorizing the residents of Ironwood Springs—more to the point, the residents of the Paradise cult.
A sharp bark comes from our right and I hike out of the water a notch to see a perky yellow lab bounding this way with a tennis ball in his happy little mouth.
“Stay close, Buddy,” I say, plucking the ball from him and tossing it toward the distal end of my cabin, and soon he’s on the chase. We’ve been playing this same game for the better part of the afternoon.
I stopped by Rob’s place before I ever headed for Whispering Woods that night and brought Buddy home to live with me. I liked him better than Rob anyway.
I picked Buddy up right after Hale reamed me for entering Paradise on my own without notifying Jack or Nikki. I told him about my sister. I bared my soul, and he still wasn’t all that impressed. He said if I pulled another stunt like that there would be disciplinary action. He told me to think long and hard because it could not only cost me my career, it might cost me my life.
Malcolm and Patty were arrested in connection with their part in the Ponzi scheme, and the charges against them included mail fraud, human trafficking, withholding funds, holding people against their will, and the list goes on and on.
Rob cried innocent even after confessing to me. He’s sure a good attorney can help get him out of the mess he’s in. He’s already assured them that I’m a scorned woman pegging him as guilty due to unrequited love on my part. He says anyone could have put on a red hood and raped those women, slit the throat of those he killed. He said he was playing a part—conducting his own sting as the sheriff.
But apparently, there’s a man named Keith who said he’ll testify against Rob in exchange for immunity, seeing that he was the heavy that planted the bodies where he was told.
And speaking of bodies, according to Keith, it was Emily’s lover, a man named Grady, who dragged her head across state lines. They had a daughter in the fold and he went back into Paradise after he left Wyoming so he could be with the kid. The plan was that Emily would leave first and find help, but someone got wind of their plan and snitched on her. They didn’t realize Grady was in on it, too. The next thing he knew, she was dead.
Kim, one of the women that I met that night, told me that Emily said she had taken off twice already and managed to contact the sheriff on both occasions. When help didn’t arrive, she tried again. I’m pretty sure that’s why she was killed. I have a feeling there was no snitch who ratted Emily out. Unfortunately, she did it herself without realizing just how dangerous the person was that she went to for help.
What she thought was a savior was the devil in disguise.
The girls I met that night, Trish and Kim, are already headed back to Kansas City along with their children. We had forensics swab their DNA and it was a match. The social workers were content and so were Trish and Kim. I bought the airline tickets for the four of them myself.
It turns out, Trish’s mother had passed away and left her a fortune.
They’re both going to get tattoos to cover up Rob’s initials that were burned into their flesh.
His initials. I shake my head. What a megalomaniac.
No one heard from Angel again.
Erin took off. She doesn’t want to be found. I get that. But too bad for her, because as far as I’m concerned, the hunt is back on.
“You know, Stone”—I say as the steam curls around us—“you’re lucky I even let you in.”
“What’s the matter? Afraid I’d see you in a bathing suit? I’ve seen you in less.”
“Funny.” I take a bite out of my pizza in haste. Extra cheese, extra sauce from Luigi’s, their standard recipe. Tastes like heaven.
“And what do you mean lucky?” he says, shooting me a stern look that decidedly makes my insides quiver once again. “I think after everything that’s transpired, I’ve earned my way into this elite hot tub society of yours.”
“Fair enough,” I say. “But don’t think I’m going to go easy on you next time we hit the field.”
He thunders out another laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Baxter.”
“So where’s Nikki?” I ask, giving a quick glance around. He doesn’t call her Knight, and I’ve found myself in the habit of eschewing her surname because of it as well. Hopefully, she doesn’t mind. Nikki, I happen to like.
