Fear No Evil

He knew where she was going and why. He wouldn’t have come there unless he knew she was in danger.

“Unless you lied to her,” Kate said slowly. Maybe Paige believed she’d convinced Merritt to give them support against Trask. But he never had. He didn’t want his pregnant girlfriend to push it. Maybe he placated her?

But that didn’t make sense, either. Why would Merritt intentionally pull backup and jeopardize their lives?

Unless he thought the whole sting was a fraud and they weren’t in danger? But that would mean he had inside information-inside information that wasn’t even true. Or he really believed there had been no real threat in the first place.

“Don’t even go there,” he said with venom.

He stepped away from the computer screen. Kate stared as she saw Paige naked on a thin mattress, and a masked man-Adam Scott-naked and towering over her.

Kate couldn’t move, couldn’t swallow, couldn’t even breathe. Scott raped her, his hands around her neck. He was strangling her. But not completely. He gave her enough air to live, leaned up, and suddenly there was a knife.

Without preamble, he slit her neck. Not deeply, but the blood poured out. In a frenzy, he sliced her. No deep stab wounds, just numerous, repeated slices as she screamed, the sound hollow and tinny coming out of the player’s speaker.

Then he took the knife and planted it deep in her chest.

Kate watched the life disappear from Paige’s eyes, saw the terror embedded in her face.

She lay like that for nine minutes and thirty-six seconds. Kate knew that because of the counter in the corner. Merritt said nothing, and Kate couldn’t stop watching. Blood soaked into the mattress.

Paige, oh God, I didn’t know you were pregnant. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you lie to me-or did Jeff lie to you?

She saw a shadow on the side of the film, then heard shattered glass and watched as a younger version of herself jumped through the window, looked around. She felt like she was there again, finding the booby trap, watching the digital countdown. She’d often had nightmares of those damn green numbers counting backward, and she always woke up in a sweat when it reached 00:00.

Then her aiming her gun at the camera. For the split second she was full face in the camera, she looked crazy.

No wonder the FBI thought she was dangerous.

The screen went blank.

Merritt leaned over her and whispered, “Now you know exactly how Paige died. I hope it gives you nightmares for the rest of your pathetic life.”

“You bastard,” she said between clenched teeth.

“I’ve had to live with that for five years. Watching the woman I love be raped and murdered. Because of you.”

She had been taking the blame for so many years that she almost said she was sorry. She was sorry because Paige didn’t deserve to die. None of the women Scott murdered had deserved that brutal end. But the truth was, she’d thought they went into that warehouse with full backup. She’d thought Merritt had sent in a full team. Paige had told her they were covered. She had had no reason to doubt it.

And Evan had come in, at the right moment.

But no one else had followed. Because there was no one else.

Had Evan followed them, fearing something was wrong? Had he died because he thought she and Paige had gone vigilante? Had he died thinking she’d crossed the line?

Evan had said something before he died. Something that had made no sense until now.

“It’s a setup, Kate. Get out.”

She’d always thought he’d meant Trask was setting them up.

She stared at Merritt. Maybe it was someone closer to home.

Why would Merritt want them dead? Was it her…or Paige? Or had he made a fatal mistake he was still trying to cover up? Or maybe it wasn’t a setup in the traditional sense, but Merritt’s own twisted way of proving to Paige she needed to quit field work.

Merritt suddenly stood. He tapped buttons on the DVD player and set Paige’s rape and murder to play on a loop. He pushed the machine out of her reach.

“Enjoy the show.”

Then he walked out.

THIRTY-ONE

KATE COULDN’T STOP watching Paige’s murder. Even when she finally closed her eyes, she still heard the screams. The sound was worse than the visual because the terror and pain somehow sounded more real.

And even when she closed her eyes, she saw that knife come down repeatedly.

I’m sorry, Paige, I’m so sorry.

She laid her head on the table and sobbed. The recording was twenty-six minutes long. She’d watched it seven times. It had just started the eighth playback when the door opened.

“Kate?”

She looked up, her eyes blurry, unfocused. Dillon. Never had she been so grateful to see anyone.

He rushed to her side, glanced at the screen. His jaw tensed as he watched Adam Scott slice Paige’s neck. He slammed it closed, cutting off her scream.

“What’s going on, Kate?” He tried to pull her from the chair to hug her, noticed the handcuffs. “Kate?” He knelt in front of her, holding her damp face in his hands. She shook in his arms.

“How’d you get this?” he asked, trying to conceal the anger rippling through his body.

“M-Merritt brought it in.”

“When?”

“A couple hours ago.”

“Good Lord, Kate.” He held her. She leaned into him, wanting him to hold her close, closer. Don’t leave me, Dillon.

“Why didn’t you call for someone, sweetheart?”

She closed her eyes, shook her head into his chest. Breathed in the warm, masculine scent of woodsy soap. “I guess I deserved it.”

Dillon held her at arm’s length. “Dammit, Kate, you don’t deserve it and you know it!”

Her lip quivered and he kissed it. Kissed her over and over. Held her close. Her heart rate began to return to normal.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered.

“I need to get someone to take off these handcuffs. Will you be okay for a minute? Peterson is at his desk.”

She nodded, sniffed, tried and failed to smile to reassure him. He held her chin. “Kate, stop torturing yourself. Okay? What happened five years ago was a tragic accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

She nodded again, unable to talk. She took a deep breath and put her head back on the table.

“I’ll be right back,” Dillon said and ran out.

A pang hit her hard in the chest. Merritt’s words came back with a vengeance.

You had no one. Evan had been killed. Your grandparents were dead. No one knew where your mother was, or even who your father is. No siblings, few friends. Paige had everything! A family who loved her. Lots of friends. Me.

The loneliness of her life hit her hard. Dillon Kincaid was everything she wanted in a lover, everything she wanted in a man. But he also had a family, something she’d never really had and knew she wouldn’t fit into. How could she? She had no practice with people. No friends, no family. Growing up she’d been a loner. Not because