But she hadn’t been crazy or evil. She had been naive. She had believed the man she loved.

  She had made a mistake. And that mistake had cost her everything she cared about, except her son.

  She could not lose her son.

  Chapter Ten

  Joe Pierce had split or he’d been abducted. Either option was bad.

  Fury cut through Rob, and he wanted to punch something.

  What the hell was the guy up to? He’d admitted he received a note that told him to come here, had agreed to be fingerprinted, and now he’d just disappeared?

  It didn’t look good for Pierce.

  “No sign of foul play other than the door being open,” Gibbons said, surveying the room. “His bags are still here.” He nodded to the suitcase and carry-on bag on the bench at the foot of the bed.

  “We’ve put out a BOLO.” Since Grace hadn’t been able to pull up the info on his rental car, they hadn’t been able to provide a description of the vehicle just yet. “I’m hoping we’ll get a quick response from anyone who’s seen him.”

  “I say,” Gibbons suggested, “we lift some prints from this room to compare with any you’ve collected at the Cashion scene.”

  “Already in the works,” Rob assured him. “Sergeant Snelling called in another of his investigators.”

  Maybe Gibbons thought a small town wouldn’t be able to keep up with his big-city way of doing things, but he would be wrong.

  “We’re in your jurisdiction,” Gibbons said. “You could call in the FBI if you felt you needed the assist.”

  “You didn’t call them in when you were working on the Locke case the first time,” Rob countered.

  “I did call them. But the support I got was minimal. The only things we knew back then,” Gibbons said, “was that three women had gone missing in the span of two years, and all three ended up dead with a heart-shaped locket on a chain wrapped around their left hands. Same manner of death—tortured, stabbed in the heart, and then over and over for whatever reason. We found no matching cases in the databases we checked. The Bureau gave us a profile that turned out to be pretty accurate, but that was about the extent of what we got. We just didn’t have enough to tie what we’d found to anyone or any trail left behind in any other case. It was a dead end.”

  “Until,” Rob said, “Locke’s wife found a woman in the basement of their home.”

  Rob had done his research. The details of the case had sickened him. All three victims, four including the one Grace had freed from the basement and who was later found murdered, fit a particular profile. Blond hair, pale eyes—either blue or gray—and petite. He hadn’t realized until he’d done his research that Grace fit the profile as well. She obviously kept her hair dyed brown for that reason. He hadn’t known it wasn’t her natural color until he saw the images of her from the news during Locke’s arrest nearly three years ago.

  He couldn’t even conceive how those memories haunted her. That part of her life had been a nightmare—the things horror flicks were made of.

  Gibbons walked to the window. “At least he got what was coming to him in the end. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here to witness it.”

  Rob’s gaze narrowed. “This case is personal for you.”

  “He has that handful of followers—fans,” Gibbons said, his attention fixed on the backyard. “They harassed my family for all those months as the case built toward trial. Killed our dog.” He exhaled a big breath. “You have no idea how badly I wish I could have caught the son of a bitch who did that. And then, just as we’re finally going to trial, Locke gets to walk. Like nothing happened.”

  Rob felt for the guy. “Like you said, he got his. It’s the follower or followers we have to worry about now. Do you think Pierce is one of his followers? He wasn’t on your radar during the initial arrest or more recently as the trial was about to start?”

  Gibbons turned to face him. “I’ve never seen him before. Never heard of him. Doesn’t mean he isn’t one of them.”

  “Locke had that many followers?” Rob would never understand how people could become obsessed with killers, but it happened. More often than not.

  A shrug lifted the older detective’s shoulders. “Not so many, really. Maybe a half dozen who showed up in person to protest outside the courthouse when he was arraigned. But there was someone who was involved with him or worked closely with him. All the indicators were there, but we were never able to pinpoint anyone.”

  Rob got it now. “You thought it was Grace.”

  “His wife, yes. She was with him all that time. They were expecting a child together. I assumed she was protecting her family in a twisted sort of way.”

  No way would Grace ever do anything like that. “But you were wrong.”

  Gibbons hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I suppose I was.”

  It annoyed Rob immensely that the man didn’t sound entirely convinced.

  “In the end, what really killed the case was my mistake,” Gibbons admitted. “I wanted solid evidence—the foolproof kind. I knew the only way to ensure we got it was to go into that house before Locke or whoever was helping him could get back in there and maybe destroy evidence. Bella Watts, another woman who fit the Locke profile, had gone missing just days before, so I used the possibility that she could be in that house for exigent circumstances. When Watts was found, a couple weeks after Locke’s arrest, I knew that damned search would come back to haunt us. Nothing I could do about it then.”

  “So Watts wasn’t one of his victims?” Rob had been curious about how a seasoned detective could make such a mistake regarding the search.

  Gibbons considered the question for a moment. “I’ll always believe she was—she fit his MO perfectly. But her throat was slit, her body dumped unceremoniously in an alley.”

  “Damn.” Rob could understand the man’s pain.

  Reynolds appeared at the door. “Ms. Myers needs to see you,” he said to Rob.

  “We have someone from Snelling’s team headed this way,” Rob said, before exiting. “Make sure he understands we need a comparison with the prints taken from the Cashion place ASAP.”

  “You got it,” Reynolds assured him.

  Rob was grateful for an excuse to get back to Grace. He really tried to see Gibbons’s side of things, but considering most of his conclusions put Grace on the wrong side of the issues, Rob was having trouble with the idea.

  Grace was staring out a window in the lobby—the same one where Liam had seen the man looking in at him. The laughter coming from down the hall told him Cara was with the boy. A clatter of pans from farther down the hall suggested Diane was in the kitchen, maybe prepping for dinner or just putting together lunch. No sign of the newest guest to arrive.

  Rob joined Grace at the window.

  “Did you find Pierce?” she asked.

  “He’s not in his cabin, but his bags are still there. All we know for the moment is that he’s MIA.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want my son touched by all this, and I have no idea how to stop it.”

  He reached for her hand, gave it a squeeze before letting go. She stared up at him, her eyes full of worry. “I’m sorry this has come here—to this community. I really thought I’d outrun my past.”

  “Locke’s gone,” Rob reminded her. “He will never bother you again. Once we pinpoint whoever was helping him or following him, it’ll be over.”

  “I need to tell you what happened to me after he was arrested. After I’d made my statement and gone home to settle my father’s affairs.”

  Rob glanced around. “Why don’t we go into your office.”

  She looked confused, then nodded as if she’d realized what he meant. She was badly shaken, no question about that.

  She led the way to the small office behind the registration desk. The room had originally been a coat closet since at one time the inn had hosted enormous dinners. He leaned against the doorframe so he could see any comings and goings in the lobby.

  Grace stood in the center of the small room as if she couldn’t decide whether to sit or to pace.

  Finally, she said, “I had a breakdown. Liam was only three months old and I fell apart. My father’s longtime house manager, a member of the family, really—Valentina Hicks—was like my surrogate mother after my mom died. She took care of everything, including me, all my life, while my father was at work and then later, when I fell apart. She took me to her home near Truckee. She cared for me until I was well enough to get away and start over.”

  The story gripped his chest like a vise. “If anyone ever had a reason to fall apart,” he offered, “you certainly did.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “You don’t understand. I mean I fell apart completely. I couldn’t remember anything. I kept misplacing things—even my baby. I stopped eating. Taking care of myself. I was a mess.”

  “I get it. It was bad. I still say you had every right.”

  “I suppose so.” She looked away. “But I think it’s happening again now.”

  He considered the ramifications of her admission for a moment. “How so?”

  “I had no idea I’d made a reservation for Mr. Ames. I’ve put my keys in the refrigerator—my rolling pin in the oven. Pizza was ordered using my cell phone. Mr. Pierce’s license plate number was left off his reservation or removed later. And the real heart-stopper—I woke Liam up from a nap this morning and told him he could go outside and play.”

  Worry twisted his gut. “You found him outside playing?”

  She nodded. “I asked why he went outside, and he said I woke him up and told him he could.”

  “Maybe he dreamed it.” Damn. No wonder she was upset.

  “I thought the same thing, but when you consider all the other little things, I’m...” She drew in a breath. “I’m terrified. I need to know that my son is safe, and now I’m worried I can’t trust myself to make that happen.”

  “I’ll be here,” he promised.

  “You were here today,” she argued.

  “But I didn’t know you needed me in that way. I do now.”

  “No matter what else happens,” she urged, “I need to know Liam is safe.”

  “You have my word, Grace.”

  “Thank you.” She crossed the narrow space that stood between them and hugged him. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

  The warmth her touch sent coursing through him had him wanting to do more than comfort her. But he resisted. Instead, he put his arms around her and hugged her back. “We’ve got this.”

  She drew back and smiled, though it was impossible to miss the emotion shining in her eyes. “Liam and I have felt at home here, and I don’t want to lose that.”

  “There’s something you should know, Grace.”

  Her smile faded and the worry that filled her eyes told him she expected the worst.

  “It’s not about all this,” he assured her. “It’s about me.”

  Her expression shifted to an expectant one. “Is something going on I should know about?”

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you out to dinner or a movie again—” he shrugged “—something simple, for weeks now, but I kept putting it off. You didn’t seem interested.”

  She grinned. “Well, you’re wrong, Deputy Vaughn. I’m very interested, and if the idea still holds appeal for you, let’s revisit the possibility as soon as all this is over.”

  “Deal.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers in the briefest of kisses before drawing away.

  She pressed her forehead to his chin. “That was very nice.”

  He resisted the urge to do it again. “I should get back to work.”

  She stepped back. “Me too.”

  When they exited the office, Gibbons was coming from the kitchen, his expression grim.

  “We need to talk,” Gibbons said.

  * * *

  GRACE’S HEART SANK. The warmth generated by Rob’s words and that quick kiss vanished. She was afraid to ask what had happened now. “I should check on Liam.”

  “You’ll need to join us once you’re done,” Gibbons said to her.

  Grace nodded and went on her way. In the parlor, Cara and Liam were watching a movie. Cara glanced up and smiled. “Everything okay?”

  Grace wasn’t sure everything would ever be okay again. Rather than say as much, she plastered on a smile and gave a nod. “You two having fun?”

  “Shh,” Liam whispered. “We missing best part.”

  Grace smiled and motioned to her lips as if she were zipping them. From there she went to the kitchen.

  Diane held out a tray with sandwiches and veggie chips. “I thought everyone could use some food.”

  “I can take it to the dining room. Deputy Vaughn and Detective Gibbons are meeting there. I’ve been asked to join them.”

  “Did they find him—that Pierce guy?”

  “He’s not in his cabin and his car is gone. But his luggage is still here. He just disappeared despite knowing that he was supposed to meet with Rob this morning for fingerprints. Add to that the fact that his door was standing open, and it doesn’t look good.”

  “Maybe he left the door open to make it look like foul play when really he had something to hide and didn’t want to be fingerprinted.” Diane shook her head, gave a shrug. “This just keeps getting better.”

  “For sure,” Grace agreed.

  Diane reached out and gave Grace’s arm a squeeze. “We’ll get through this.”

  Grace managed a smile. “Hope so.”

  Diane turned back to the recipe book she held.

  “Did you find everything you needed at the market?”

  “I did.” She tapped the page she’d opened the book to. “We’ll see how it turns out. This is a new entrée for me.”

  “I’m sure it will be amazing.” She hitched her thumb toward the door. “I should get in there.”

  Dread making each step a burden, Grace carried the laden tray to the dining room. Rob immediately rushed over to take it from her.

  “Diane made lunch,” she announced.

  After Grace offered drinks, she joined the two lawmen, choosing the chair closest to Rob.

  “I made a few calls about this Joe Pierce,” Gibbons said. “Turns out he got himself into some trouble about ten years ago. He was an LA Times reporter back then. He was working on a story—the Hollywood Hills Hunter.”

  Grace remembered that one. A serial killer had been stalking young women during early-morning runs. He’d killed four before he was caught. “I was a senior at UCLA then.”

  Gibbons nodded as if he’d already known exactly where she was at the time. He probably did. He’d investigated every part of her life when Adam was arrested. It was as if she had been the criminal.

  “There was a young woman, also a senior at a local university,” Gibbons went on. “Pierce hired her to run a particular route every morning in hopes of luring this killer. She wound up almost getting killed and Pierce was fired from the Times. He wasn’t heard from for quite a while, which I suppose is why he started the freelance gig. No reputable paper was going to hire him after pulling a stunt like that.”

  Grace didn’t recall any of those details. She must have been too caught up in exams. “Does this have something to do with the Locke case?”

  “I hoped you could answer that for me.”

  Grace looked from Gibbons to Rob and back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Did you know Pierce back then? The LA detective I spoke with says there was another woman working with Pierce to lure the Hollywood Hills Hunter.”

  “No.” Grace drew back as if he’d thrown something at her. “I’ve never met the man before. Never even heard of him.”

  “What exactly are you accusing Grace of?” Rob demanded, his tone just shy of heated.

  “I’m not accusing her of anything,” Gibbons argued. “I’m only trying to establish a connection. Pierce shows up here—apparently invited by the same person who left a note for you. It feels like there should have been a connection to you.”

  “Well, you’re wrong,” Grace said flatly. “I’ve never met him.”

  Reynolds appeared at the door. “Vaughn, can I speak with you a moment?”

  “Give me a minute.” Rob stood and glanced at Grace. “Don’t answer any other questions until I’m back.”

  She nodded her understanding. Clearly Gibbons was determined to connect all of this to her one way or another.

  Gibbons waited until Rob and Deputy Reynolds were out of earshot. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, Gia.”

  “Grace,” she reminded him. “And it sounds as if that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

  “No,” he argued. “I only want to get to the truth. Locke is dead, and I, for one, am glad. But whoever came here with him—whoever killed him—I want that person too. As I’m sure you do as well. You must know you’re not safe as long as his killer is out there doing God knows what.”

  There was nothing to say. Unquestionably she understood the situation. The fact that he insisted he felt the same way she did didn’t make her trust him.

  Rob came back into the dining room. Right behind him was Deputy Reynolds and Diane.

  Grace sat up straighter. Why had Diane been drawn into this uncomfortable situation? That she wouldn’t look at Grace had a cold knot forming in her belly.

  Rob looked to Grace. “There’s been a development, but Diane has asked to tell you about it herself.”

  Grace clutched her hands together, hoped this wasn’t going to be even worse news. “Diane, are you all right?”