Chapter 7

He had a call to make and went back to the fraternity, nodded to his fraternity brothers and closed himself in his room. Unlocking the desk drawer, he pulled out a notebook and jotted down the information Jennifer gave him. “Legend my ass.”

He flipped open his cell and punched in a four-digit code and then the pound sign. “Hey Jack, I think I might have a lead. Can you find out everything about Tracy Sheehan and her family, particularly her father? I believe he’s from Brooksfield. Thanks.”

He closed the phone and lay back on his bed, pondering the day. Jennifer was quite the actress and his smile slowly faded. Could she be that good? He closed his eyes and swore. “Shit.” She had gotten him to admit what he did and why he was here so easily, like slicing through butter on a hot day.

He stood, feeling foolish and angry, remembering how she moved with him. There was no way she was as inexperienced as she claimed, not with how easily he’d taken her on the dock. The way she’d looked in the bathroom came to mind and he shook his head. That was something he didn’t think she could pull off. The color drained completely from her face, leaving her complexion waxy and lifeless, and her eyes held the same quality. He’d watched the color come back. That isn’t something you can fake, is it?

He shook his head in frustration. A part of him didn’t want to believe, a part of him didn’t want to care, and a part of him didn’t want this kind of complication. That self-doubt saved his life over the past two years, keeping everyone at arm’s length and giving him a cold, clear perspective on those he observed. He lost his edge with Jennifer and he knew it.

He locked the notebook and cell phone away and stormed out of the room.

He walked right into Bill.

Bill didn’t hesitate—he grabbed Steve and slammed him into the wall. “You called my friend a bitch.”

Steve glared back. He was in no mood for this right now. “Back off.” He shoved Bill away.

“You are such a fucking idiot. You are going to come with me and apologize.”

“The hell I am,” Steve said, standing his ground. “She is a bitch.”

Bill swung and caught Steve off guard.

Steve slammed back into the wall with the force of the punch, his eye pulsing from the shock of the impact, swelling shut. “What the fuck did you do that for?” he snapped, covering the hot space Bill’s fist left.

“I swear I’ll kick your ass if you don’t apologize to her.” Bill towered over Steve.

Steve stared back, tempted to take him down, but kept his temper in check. “No.” He watched as Bill balled his hand into a fist. “And if you try to hit me again, I’ll put your head through the wall.”

Bill hesitated and backed off, taking a step away. “I thought you were a decent guy.” He shook his head. “If I’d known what a prick you are, I would have never tried to set you up with her.”

“She’s arrogant.”

“No she isn’t,” Bill said. “She is probably one of the most pure-hearted, loving people I know. She doesn’t have an arrogant bone in her body.”

Pure. That definitely described her to the core. Still, he was surprised Bill honed in on that particular word. “That’s not what I saw.”

“You insulted her career choice. What’d you expect?”

Steve shook his head. His eye hurt along with his pride. This was the second time someone got a drop on him today. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I expected Peggy.” He turned to walk away.

“You know what? You really don’t deserve her, but you bet your ass you’re going to apologize.”

Steve stopped and kept his back to Bill, considering the comment. “Fine, but if she gives me grief, I’m leaving.” He shot a warning glance over at Bill. “And if you try to stop me, you’ll find yourself on your ass.”

Bill smiled. “I’ll give Tracy a call.”

Chapter 8

She ran through the woods, her heart racing in her chest, branches whipping and tearing her exposed skin. Pitch black, not even the moon penetrated the cover of the trees to give her any light. She had to get away, get back to safety but had no clue of where she was running.

His scream put on the brakes and she skidded on the damp leaves, whirling in her tracks. His voice, laced with pain and panic, propelled her in the direction she had fled from. She broke through the underbrush into the small clearing, shaking and terrified. On his knees, he struggled to stand. Jagged cuts on his face and chest oozed red, saturating his bare skin with thick blood.

Something sharp sailed through the air towards him.

“No!” she screamed.

She shot up in the chair, the scream escaping from her mouth.

Tracy burst onto the terrace, out of breath. “Are you all right?”

“Nightmare.” Jennifer looked around, her gaze falling on the lake. She shivered.

A knock on the door interrupted them.

Tracy disappeared to get the door.

“Where’s Jen?” Bill asked, stepping into the apartment.

“On the terrace. She just woke up from a nap.”

Bill crossed to the terrace with Steve following reluctantly.

Jennifer glanced at Bill and wiped the sleep from her eyes. Her gaze shifted, falling on Steve. That woke her up with a start and her mouth dropped for a fraction of a second. Steve had a hell of a shiner. Her mouth popped closed and she pressed her lips together, narrowing her eyes in Bill’s direction. “Did you hit him?”

Bill shrugged and stepped back inside. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” He shuffled Tracy out the door and Steve leaned over the balcony, waiting until they had left the building.

“I’m supposed to apologize to you,” he said, watching them drive away. He finally turned towards her.

Jennifer crossed to him. “Does it hurt?” She touched his eye and he winced.

“Not as much as my pride. That’s the second time someone got the drop on me today and the first was a woman. Can you believe it?”

With the dream still fresh in her mind; his joke was lost on her.

He saw the distance in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nightmare.”

“I hope I wasn’t the cause.” He looked down at the parking lot before she could answer. “Where do you think they went?”

“Probably to grab some food,” she said. It was almost dinnertime.

He nodded and headed inside, grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator behind the bar, and took a seat on the overstuffed chair in the living room. He reached for the remote and began aimlessly flipping through the channels.

Jennifer followed him in. His cavalier attitude grated on her. “You seem mighty comfortable here.”

* * * *

Steve raised his eyes to her and glanced back at the television, struggling with the same doubts he had earlier. He met her gaze when she sat on the couch. “Are you acting with me?” he asked. Her reaction solidified his answer.

Jennifer recoiled under his direct, intense stare. Her green eyes flashed and she shot to her feet. “Get out.” She pointed to the door, shaking, and trying to contain her raging anger.

Steve didn’t move from the chair. “Sit down, Jen,” he said. He saw the nuance of real emotion in her eyes, her expression very different from when she acted angry—so much so he was surprised Tracy fell for it. He waited until she sat down, still glaring at him. “I had to be sure.”

“Sure of what?” she snapped, crossing her arms.

“That trusting you wouldn’t get me killed.”

Jennifer’s jaw dropped and her arms fell to her sides. “You had to ask after today?”

“Especially after today,” he replied and leaned forward. “You got me to admit things I never should have and that could burn me, Jen. This isn’t a game. People have disappeared and I have to assume the worst.” He did not fill her in on those that had been found.