“Nikki Dresden.” Her name slipped out on a whisper, barely audible even to his own ears, but the wind seemed to tear it from his lips and carry it down to the edge of the water. No way she could have heard him, yet her head came up and she searched the tree line until she found him.
Their gazes locked for the longest moment. The charged tingle at his scalp raced all the way down to his fingertips. She felt it, too. He could have sworn he saw again the glint of recognition in her dark eyes and maybe this time a hint of fear.
With good reason.
I know who you are, Nikki Dresden. I know what you did that summer.
Chapter Three
Dusk had fallen in earnest by the time the stretcher arrived. The horizon deepened from scarlet to violet and the moon was just starting to shimmer through the pine trees. A mild breeze drifted off the water, but the air was still hot and humid and the drone of mosquitoes seemed incessant.
Nikki oversaw the removal of the body and then waited until the last squad car had pulled away from the side of the road before she climbed up to her vehicle and changed out of the damp coveralls into fresh clothes and dry sneakers. Then she traipsed back down to the lake. She had one last thing she wanted to do before heading home.
Turning her back on the bridge, she hurried past the spot where the body had been recovered and then moved steadily along the bank until the path ended at a steep embankment. She could just make out the roofline and the smokestack that rose from the boiler room at the back of the property. She’d been called out to the Ruins recently when another body had been discovered at the bottom of an old elevator shaft. That trip had brought back a lot of memories for Nikki. She’d been meaning to return sooner, but one thing after another had kept her away.
When she was a kid, she’d considered the Ruins her own private hideaway. She’d spent a lot of time prowling through the maze of hallways and rooms. Despite the dark history, she’d never felt uneasy or oppressed there, never felt lonely in that abandoned place when all she’d ever felt at home or in school was alone.
After Riley Cavanaugh had gone missing, Nikki’s trips dwindled, not because she was afraid of being taken, but because her visits had started to feel intrusive, like she was violating a sacred place.
Using vines for leverage, she scrambled up the embankment and paused at the top to scour the looming facade. Most of the windows were broken and a part of the roof had caved in. Curling tentacles of ivy grew up the brick face, reaching for the eaves and creeping through shattered windowpanes. Ignoring the decay, Nikki trailed her gaze over the graceful arches and stately pillars and thought again what a beautiful place it must once have been.
She entered through one of the arches, using her flashlight to chase away shadows from all the deep corners. Running the light up one wall and across the ceiling, she paused on the demonic mural that someone had painted of Preacher. Red eyes stared down at her. Had he really taken Riley Cavanaugh? No one knew for certain. They might never know. The mystery of her disappearance still haunted the town—still haunted Nikki—fifteen years later.
Moving away from the mural, she made her way up two sets of precarious stairs to the third floor. The tall, arched window at the end of the hallway allowed in sunlight by day and moonlight by night. Nikki kept her gaze averted from the area at the back of the building. She didn’t want to think about the poor, damaged souls who had once been locked up there.
She found her room and entered cautiously, wary of the sloping floor and sagging ceiling tiles. Nothing remained of the original furnishings. Most of the beds and mattresses had either been carted away years ago or piled in the basement for rats to nest in. The iron bars at the windows had been removed and sold for scrap metal. Graffiti covered the peeling walls, some of it strange and disturbing, some of it quite beautiful.
Nikki crossed the floor, pausing over a loose board that creaked beneath her weight. She resisted the urge to drop to her knees and pry it loose. Maybe she would before she left. Wasn’t that why she’d come? To retrieve a part of her past she’d left hidden here all those years ago?
She’d been wondering ever since her last visit to the Ruins if the journal was still there. All those dark secrets and breathless confessions she’d poured onto the pages of a spiral notebook. Or had rodents chewed away at her teenage angst, leaving nothing behind but the metal binding?
Nikki had abandoned the journal and her all-black wardrobe when she left Belle Pointe for college. She’d wanted a fresh start in Austin. No sense dragging that baggage with her. But it was hard to bury one’s past completely. She was older now, and age put a lot of things into perspective. Maybe she would find it cathartic to revisit the weird, dramatic girl she’d once been.
Right now, though, she needed a few minutes in this quiet place to think about Dr. Nance.
Hoisting herself up to the window ledge, she sat with legs dangling as she gazed out at the water. The rising moon seemed to hover over his fishing cabin, as if the whole universe mourned his passing.
Why had he gone out to the lake when he was supposed to be in Houston? Why hadn’t he told anyone about his change of plans? How did a strong swimmer such as he was end up floating facedown in the water?
Accidents happened. Nikki saw the results of carelessness and happenstance every day, and yet doubts continued to plague her. She
