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“Not a good idea,” I said.
“You’d be safe there.”
“Tempting, but I think I should go home tonight. I’m sure I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m Orin’s number one target.”
“No, but you could be his number two target. Hal is following us. I’ll leave him in your parking lot. And do not remove the GPS devices.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ten minutes later Ranger opened my door and stepped into my apartment. He did a walk-through, looking in closets and under the bed.
“Lock up when I leave and don’t open your door to anyone,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”
I hesitated for a beat. “I’m sure.”
He traced a line down the side of my face with his fingertip. “Would you like me to change your mind?”
That got a smile from me. “No, but thanks for offering.”
He stood outside my door and waited until he heard all my locks tumble into place, then he knocked once and left.
I glanced over at Tiki. “What do you think? Did I do the right thing?”
Tiki looked disgusted with the whole process, so I had the last beer in the fridge and went to bed. I’m not usually a restless sleeper but I had a horrible night. I was worried about Orin going after Amanda and Ranger and Kinsey. I thought it was remote that he would attack me. He’d made a show of sending a firebomb into my apartment but I wasn’t convinced he cared about killing me or even torturing me. I figured I was tangential to his vendetta.
At daybreak I gave up trying to sleep. I forced myself out of bed and into the shower. An hour later I was on the road in search of breakfast. I was thinking something greasy and salty and totally unhealthy. Something fattening with cheese and a worthless piece of white bread. I pulled into Cluck-in-a-Bucket and ordered their breakfast sandwich and coffee. It was too early to go to the office. Connie wouldn’t be there until eight o’clock and it wasn’t even nearly eight.
Hal was in line behind me. I waited for him to get his order and then I pulled out into traffic. I returned to my apartment building, parked, and went back to talk to Hal.
“I need a nap,” I told him. “You don’t have to stay here.”
“Ranger told me to keep my eye on you and that’s what I’m doing,” Hal said. “I get relieved at eight o’clock.”
I trudged up the stairs and down the hall. I let myself into my apartment, relocked the door, and took my coffee and breakfast sandwich into the kitchen. Rex was sound asleep in his soup can. Tiki was on guard.
I ate the sandwich and sipped my coffee. “This is the day,” I said to Tiki. “I have to get into the pink dress and march down the aisle today. I’d almost rather face Orin.”
I turned to go into the bedroom and Orin was in front of me.
“Your lucky day,” he said.
He resembled the man in the photo but there were significant changes. He’d lost weight and his face and hands were badly scarred. The dimple was still there, partially obscured by the scarring. One ear was almost completely obliterated. His eyes were very pale blue, almost colorless, and his pupils were shrunk to tiny pinpoints that hinted at total insanity. I sucked in air and the coffee sloshed out of my cup and onto the floor.
“Hideous, right?” he asked. “Do I scare you?”
I was unable to speak. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was suffocating, unable to breathe. He was hideous, not because of the scars but because of the eyes. The eyes were terrifying.
He was wearing army fatigues. His semi-automatic was holstered, as was a large knife. His chest was crisscrossed with ammo belts. Two grenades and packets of what I feared were explosives were strapped to the ammo belts with black electrician’s tape. He was holding a black baton that at first glance looked like a flashlight, but there were two prongs where the light should have been. Heavy-duty stun gun, I thought. Not good news.
He swung the baton and knocked the coffee out of my hand, sending it flying toward a wall. I yelped, and he came at me with the baton. He hit me hard in the thigh, pressed the prongs against my side, and I crumpled to the floor.
When I came around I had my hands bound behind me with electrician’s tape, and I’d been propped up against the under-sink cabinet in the kitchen. Orin was sitting on a dining room chair about three feet away, looking at me. He had a lighter in his hand. It was the kind you use to light a fireplace or a grill, and he was flicking it on and off.
“Do you like fire?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” I said, working to keep my voice from trembling, not wanting to show fear. I thought about the watch on my wrist. I’d been too flustered to remember to press the button when Orin initially surprised me, and now it was under layers of tape and not accessible.
“It drives the devil out,” Orin said. “That’s why they used to burn witches. It returns everything to a pure state. It’s the only way the soul can be released from the body in its most beautiful form.”
