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Poor Bell. So similar to Claudia, two years ago. A sitting duck. A dumb, hungry, sitting duck.

Twenty-Eight

BELL

I read the back of the guy’s shirt ahead of me and tried to decipher the Greek letters. Lambda…Phi? Lambda Omega? I gave up. Greek letters, like sorority houses, had never been my thing. I tried to imagine Dario as a frat guy and smiled at the thought. On the drive, he’d told me about his start in the casino business—a start that had skipped right over college and landed him in a security polo. In some ways, our upbringings had been similar: jobs at fifteen, lower-class families, drunks for fathers. But in other ways, I felt like my life was so much more fun than his had ever been. I had spent the last two years driven by parties and school. He had graduated high school and dove into double-shifts and management training, with a laser focus on success and little else.

The door to the Taco Bell opened, and I glanced over. A woman came in, and I looked back to the board, tapping my credit card against my leg, torn between a burrito or a taco. Probably a burrito. Less messy. Then again, we were in a minivan. It probably had baby wipes and a mini trash can. The frat guy ahead of me took his receipt, and I stepped up to the counter.

“Two beef burritos, please.”

The cashier rang up the items, and I glanced over my shoulder at the restaurant. The girl behind me looked away. A guy walked out, pulling a toddler by the hand. Two guys sat by the window with trucker hats on. I shifted, suddenly uneasy.

After that night at the barn, this used to happen all the time. When I was alone and strangers were near, I would get panicky. My chest would tighten, and my mind would run through all the different scenarios that I was certain were about to occur. Most involved death and dismemberment, my mind a pretty dark and gory place.

It’d been a long time since I had felt this way. Now, in the brightly lit Taco Bell, it was stupid to be afraid. I turned back to the cashier. “And … nachos with cheese. And a crunchy beef taco. And a Pepsi.”

“Make that two Pepsis.”

I jumped at the sound of Dario’s voice, my head snapping toward him.

He frowned, his hand sliding down the small of my back. “Jumpy?”

I smiled thinly. “A little.” I leaned against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me, giving me a firm squeeze that melted away my tension.

The cashier snapped her gum and fixed us with a bored expression. “That it?”

“Add on a chicken quesadilla.” Dario pressed a kiss on the top of my head and took the cups from the cashier, passing them to me. “I’ll pay. Can you get our drinks?”

I took the cups and turned, heading for the soda station and dismissing my nerves.

* * *

THE EX-VICTIM

The minivan pulled into San Diego at dusk, the city lights a rainbow of colors. Claudia followed them over the bridge and onto Coronado Island. The road was crammed with traffic, and it was twenty minutes before they turned into the Del Hotel.

She forced her hands to relax on the wheel. She’d been so close. Thirty seconds from stepping forward and jamming the knife into her kidney. One quick stab and twist. She’d stayed behind her and out of sight of the cashier, debating over whether to do it there, or wait and see if Bell Hartley went to the bathroom. It was a good thing she’d hesitated. Otherwise, Dario Capece would have seen it all.

It didn’t matter. She’d find another opportunity to get the girl.

The valet pulled the minivan forward, and Claudia followed the car into an exterior lot, finding a spot and settling in to wait.

Patience. That was all she needed. Patience, and the right opportunity to get her alone.

She had done this three times before. Watching a girl. Waiting for an opportunity. Taking her off guard. With each of those instances, the goal had been to take the girl, not kill her. But the process was the same, even though the stakes were higher. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, remembering the moment she had been caught off guard. She’d been leaving work, walking through the casino parking garage and digging through her purse for her keys. She’d heard her name and turned, surprised by the man who’d collided with her. It had been her first contact with Robert Hawk, their introduction marred by the sharp prick from the needle, the drug hazing everything over in a cloud of delirium. She’d been afraid for only a moment, then sank into his arms. One moment, and Claudia’s life had changed.

Now, all she needed was one unguarded moment with Bell Hartley, and it would all be over for the pretty brunette. One moment and Bell Hartley’s life would end.

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