She had to tell Jennifer! In case something happened to her, she had to let Jennifer know who stood behind that door.

Sam slid back and stood. She hurried to the end of the hall. Going up the stairs might be prudent, but at this distance, there was no way Slater could hear. She lifted her phone and hit redial.

“Jennifer?”

“Sam! What’s going on?”

“Shh, shh, shh. I can’t talk,” Sam whispered. “I found them.”

A barely audible ring pierced the silence, as if a gunshot had discharged too close to her ear within the last half-hour.

Jennifer seemed incredulous. “You . . . you found Kevin? You actually located them? Where?”

“Listen to me, Jennifer. Kevin’s not Slater. Do you hear me? I was wrong. It has to be a frame!”

“Where are you?” Jennifer demanded.

“I’m here, outside.”

“You’re absolutely positive that Kevin isn’t Slater? How—”

“Listen to me!” Sam whispered harshly. She glanced back at the door. “I just saw them both; that’s how I know.”

“You have to tell me where you are!”

“No. Not yet. I have to think this through. He said no cops. I’ll call you.” She hung up before she lost her nerve and dropped the phone into her pocket.

Why didn’t she just call Jennifer in? What could she possibly do that Jennifer couldn’t? Only Slater knew the answer to that. The boy she’d never seen. Until today. Kevin, dear Kevin, I’m so sorry.

A shaft of light suddenly cut through the tunnel. She whirled around. The door was open. Slater stood in the doorframe, bare-chested, grinning, gun in hand.

“Hello, Samantha. I was getting worried. So nice of you to find us.”

27

Monday

8:21 P.M.

SAM’S FIRST INSTINCT WAS TO RUN. Up the stairs, duck, to the left, into the open. Come back with a flamethrower and burn him out. Her second instinct was to rush him. The rage that flooded her mind seeing him backlit by the light surprised her. She could feel her gun at her waist and she grabbed for it.

“Don’t be so predictable, Sam. Kevin thinks you’re smarter than me. Did you hear him say that? Prove it, darling.” He brought the gun up and aimed it inside to his right. “Come on in here and prove it to me, or I’ll cap the kid where he stands.”

Sam hesitated. Slater stood with a cocky grin. She walked down the hall. You were born for this, Sam. You were born for this.

Slater backed up, keeping his gun aimed to his right. She stepped past the steel door. A single bulb cast dim light over the basement. Shades of black and gray. Stark. Kevin stood in front of a wall of pictures, face ashen. Pictures of her. He took a step toward her.

“Not so fast,” Slater snapped. “I know how badly you want to be the hero again, boy, but not this time. Take the gun out slowly, Samantha. Slide it toward me.” There wasn’t a trace of doubt on Slater’s face. He had them precisely where he’d intended.

Sam slid the gun across the concrete, and Slater scooped it up. He walked to the door, closed it, and faced them both. It struck Sam, staring at the man’s smirk, that she’d committed a kind of suicide. She’d stepped into the lair willfully, and she’d just given the dragon her gun.

You were born for this, Sam. Born for what? Born to die.

She turned from him purposefully. No, I was born for Kevin. She looked at him, ignoring Slater, who stood behind her now.

“You okay?”

Kevin’s eyes darted over her shoulder and then settled on hers. Trails of sweat glistened on his face. The poor man was terrified.

“Not really.”

“It’s okay, Kevin.” She smiled. “I promise you, it’ll be okay.”

“Actually, it won’t be okay, Kevin,” Slater said, walking briskly to her right. He wasn’t the monster she’d imagined. No horns, no yellow teeth, no scarred face. He looked like a jock with short blond hair, tight tan slacks, a torso cut like a gymnast’s. A large, red tattoo of a heart branded over his breast. She could have met this man a dozen times over the years and not taken notice. Only his eyes gave him away. They were far away, light gray eyes, like a wolf’s. If Kevin’s eyes swallowed her, Slater’s were the kind she might bounce off of. He even smiled like a wolf.

“I’m not sure you’re aware of what we have here, but the way I see it, you’re both in a bit of a pickle,” Slater said. “And Kevin is fit to be tied. He’s made three phone calls to his FBI girlfriend, and I just sat back and let him do it. Why? Because I know how hopeless his situation is, even if he doesn’t. No one can help him. Or you, dear Samantha.”

“If you wanted to kill Kevin, you could have done it a dozen times,” Sam said. “So what isyour game? What do you hope to accomplish with all of this nonsense?”

“I could have killed you too, my dear. A hundred times. But this way it’s just so much more fun. We’re all together like a happy little family. Mommy’s in the closet, Kevin’s finally come back home, and now his little girlfriend has come to save him from the terrible boy down the street. It’s almost like old times. We’re even going to let Kevin kill again.”

Slater’s lips fell flat. “Only this time he’s not going after me. This time he’s going to put a bullet in your head.”

Sam took this in and faced Kevin. He looked so frail in the yellow light. Afraid. Slater was going to force his hand to kill. Her. It all made perfect sense now, although exactly what Slater had in mind, she didn’t know.

Surprisingly, Sam felt no fear. In fact, she felt somewhat buoyed, even confident. Maybe this is how you feel just before you die.

“So. He’s the boy, after all,” Sam said to Kevin. Both men were watching her. “How does a big, strong, handsome man like this become so jealous of you, Kevin? Think about it. How could such a powerful, intelligent man be driven to such insane fits over one man? Answer: Because underneath that big, bold, red tattoo and all that bulging muscle, he’s only a pathetic little weasel who’s never managed to make a friend, much less win a girl.”

Slater stared at her. “I’ll keep your predicament in mind and forgive the rest of your desperate insults, but I don’t think jealousis the right word, Samantha. I am not jealous of this piece of meat.”

She faced him slowly, wildly bold and unsure why. “Then forgive me for such poor word choice. You’re not insanely jealous; you’re delighted with the sweet bond of love that Kevin and I have always shared. The fact that I would have shoved a toilet plunger into your face if I’d ever caught you peeping and licking at my window doesn’t bother you, does it?”

His mouth was a thin, straight line. He blinked. Again.

“The fact is, I chose Kevin,”Sam said. “And Kevin chose me, and neither of us wants anything to do with you. You can’t accept that. It drives you crazy. It makes you see red.”

Slater’s face twisted. “And Kevin doesn’t see red?”

Silence settled. Balinda was in the closet. A clock on the wall read 8:35. She should have told Jennifer where they were. Her cell phone was still in her pocket, and she didn’t think Slater knew. Could she call Jennifer? If she could slip her hand into her pocket and press the send button twice, it would automatically dial the last number. Jennifer would hear them. A tingle ran through her fingertips.

“You really think Kevin is any different than me?” Slater waved the guns around absently. “You really think this little puke here doesn’t want exactly what I want? He’ll kill and he’ll lie and he’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he won’t, just like the rest. That’s better than me? At least I’m honest about who I am!”

“And who are you, Slater? You’re the devil. You’re the sickness of this world. You’re vile and you’re vomit. Go on, tell us. Be honest—”

“Shut up!” Slater screamed. “Shut your disgusting pie hole! This little piece of trash sits in the pew every Sunday, swearing to God that he won’t keep doing his secret little sins when he knows as well as I that he will. We know he will because he’s made this promise a thousand times and breaks it every time. He’s the liar.” Spittle flew from his lips. “ That’sthe truth!”