His heart would have gone out to her if she hadn’t already proved how deadly she could be. Yes, he felt sorry for her, but no, he wasn’t a fool. There was little doubt in his mind that Roz was capable of killing, even killing him, if her plans were thwarted and she saw no way out.

  “Aren’t you getting hungry?” Noah asked.

  “No.”

  “I could check the fridge and see about fixing us something to eat. I’m a pretty good cook.”

  “Did you cook for all of them?” Roz asked, staring at him with evident malice. “You did, didn’t you?”

  “Who?”

  “All those women.”

  “Not really.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I saw you and that lady cop acting all cozy.”

  Noah had to clamp his jaw to keep from reacting the way he wanted to. Emily didn’t resemble the women Roz had eliminated, but they’d been wrong about that commonality, hadn’t they? The serial killer hadn’t been stalking blonde women. She’d been hunting innocent acquaintances from his past, women who probably had little memory of him after all this time. Therefore, if she began to suspect how much Emily meant to him, there would be nothing to stop her from carrying the vendetta into the present. Nothing except him.

  “I was actually looking at old videos. That’s where I saw you. Your plan was genius, you know.”

  “I was pretty smart, wasn’t I? Took you from right under her ugly nose.” Roz laughed cynically.

  “You could have saved yourself the trouble,” Noah said. “I like redheads, too. All you had to do was ask me, and I’d have met you anywhere you said.”

  “Sure, you would.”

  He stood slowly, cautiously, his hands spread, palms up. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah, well...” She reached up with her free hand, grabbed a fistful of red hair and gave her wig a yank. “What about now? I almost ruined my real hair trying to bleach it out so you’d notice me.”

  The wispy sparseness of her natural brown hair clearly showed damage. “I’m sorry you felt you needed to do that,” Noah said.

  “Yeah, well, if I’d known you’d take up with a lady cop with darker hair, I could have saved myself a lot of grief. I can’t believe you broke your pattern with her.”

  Noah didn’t think it would help to tell Roz that he’d never chosen his friends by their looks, so he kept it to himself. What was it that had attracted him to Emily so strongly? Her spirit? Her quick mind? Her wit? Or had there been an intrinsic connection all along? He had no clue, nor did it matter. Emily was a unique individual who posed a challenge to his preconceived notions beyond anything he’d experienced before. Not only did she disparage his career choice, she ran around with a chip on her shoulder the size of a bus. Surely there were more agreeable women to choose from than Emily Zwalt.

  Only he didn’t want anyone else, did he? Noah’s mind finally agreed with what his heart had been insisting for some time. He cared for Emily so deeply that he already thought of her as his future. Therefore, he better understood how hard the loss of her fiancé had hit her and why it had warped her attitude toward courts and attorneys.

  He was about to try more flattery in the hope of winning the killer’s confidence when they were both startled by a knock on the front door. Noah was immediately thankful the loud noise hadn’t caused Roz to squeeze the trigger, because she’d been waving the gun around carelessly, and there was no telling where her bullets might have gone.

  “Stay behind me while I go see who’s here,” she ordered. “And keep your mouth shut.”

  “No problem.” Hanging back as far as he dared, he accompanied her through the dusty living room and stood aside while she unlocked the front door and opened it a crack.

  Outside on the porch, a smiling police officer greeted her. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. We’re canvassing the neighborhood for the sheriff’s youth program. Would you care to make a donation?”

  “No. I’m busy.”

  The officer touched the bill of his cap and nodded politely, backing away. “Sorry to bother you. Thanks for your time.”

  Noah was just about to sigh with relief when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and made an instant connection.

  No! His breath fled. His fists clenched. He braced himself.

  Emily. Emily was in the house.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Heart about to pound out of her chest, Emily faded into the shadows and prayed the armed killer wouldn’t get nervous and decide to shoot Noah before she was able to disarm her. Not knowing the layout of the old house was a definite disadvantage. By entering through the unlocked rear door, she had taken a calculated risk. The same was true of allowing Noah to get a glimpse of her.

  Footsteps echoed as kidnapper and victim went back into the kitchen. Emily followed as best she could without showing herself again. Noah now knew she was there with him. Hopefully, that knowledge would keep him from doing something stupid and getting himself killed.

  The moment that thought entered her mind, she began to tremble. This was the first instance in two years as a cop that armed conflict had affected her this way. Oh, she’d had to decompress from previous incidents involving deadly force, sure, but those encounters had never given her the shakes or made her stomach roil this way.

  Conversation was coming from the kitchen, so she crept closer to eavesdrop.

  “Look out the window and tell me if the cops are gone,” Roz was telling Noah.

  “I’m sure they are,” he said. “You handled yourself quite well.”

  The voice grew shrill. “Do as I say. Look.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Emily could picture his calm demeanor, the way he always raised his hands slightly as if indicating surrender. That practiced facade would be necessary now, more than ever.

  Making the assumption that this killer was not rational, Emily stayed out of sight. What the others did from here on would determine her next moves.

  “I don’t see any police car,” Noah told Roz.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then look for yourself.”

  To do so, Roz would have to face one of the kitchen windows, meaning she’d temporarily turn away from the hall. Emily took a chance and peered around the corner.

  Noah saw her immediately, warning her off with a frown and slight shake of his head.

  In those few seconds Emily did a threat assessment. Whether or not Noah had been disarmed, Roz was holding him at gunpoint, and he’d left his protective vest behind. That made a surprise attack too risky. It also meant that, in her efforts to trap the killer, she had also trapped herself and Noah.

  They were stuck in the house together, and Emily’s only advantage at the moment was that Noah knew she was there.

  Roz started to turn.

  Emily ducked back out of sight. A split second separated their actions. It was too long.

  A bullet smacked into the wall above Emily’s head.

  She ducked, swung around the corner and slipped her finger inside the trigger guard, ready to shoot back.

  Noah had pulled his own weapon and was aiming it at Roz.

  There they stood, all three of them, all armed, all ready to fire. Nobody moved.

  * * *

  Noah shouted. “Freeze!”

  “Police!” Emily yelled at the same time.

  Roz didn’t seem fazed by the firepower trained on her, and that frightened Noah more than anything.

  He stood his ground. So did Emily. If he shot at Roz, there was a very good chance her gun would go off too, and it was aimed right at the love of his life. Even if Em got off a shot of her own and wounded Roz, it probably wouldn’t be enough to stop the chain reaction.

  Somebody had to break the standoff, he reasoned, and it would have to be him.

  He cleared his throat then forced a smile and lowered his gun. “Settle down, ladies. I’ve made my choice. There’s no reason to get excited.”

  Roz never wavered. Neither did Emily, so he moved slowly to stand between the women with his attention on the killer. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll see that the police leave.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Instead of laying the weapon aside, he cautiously slid it into his pocket, relieved when Roz raised no objection. The use of soft words and smooth motions seemed to be helping, so he continued by lifting his hands slightly. “Suppose I can get this officer to put her gun away and leave the house. Will that do?”

  “Do for what?” Roz countered. “Do you think I’m a fool? I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  “We used to be friends when we were kids, that’s all,” he alibied.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Behind him, Noah heard Emily breathing hoarsely, as if she might be about to act, although what she thought she could do under these circumstances was a mystery.

  Chancing a step he moved closer to the armed woman, wondering if she could fire faster than he could knock the gun aside. It was likely she could, especially if she anticipated his move.

  This was a masters chess competition with real people as critical game pieces and the timer ticking off the seconds. Not moving was harder than it would be to act, yet he knew better than to force things.

  The sound of multiple sirens as more law enforcement arrived was building. Noah took a deep breath before he offered, “Look, Roz. It doesn’t sound good out there. Let me intervene for you so nobody else gets hurt. I can talk to them. Calm everybody down. What do you say?”

  “Ha! You think I’m a fool? I know you’re lying.”

  “Actually, I’m not,” Noah promised. “I can go out and explain to them that you want to surrender.”

  “Who says I do?”

  “You’re an intelligent woman. Surely you see how this has to end.”

  “Not unless I lay down this gun.”

  Noah was acutely aware that his body was the only thing standing between Roz’s bullets and Emily. Even though Em was wearing a vest, it might not save her at this distance, and that was assuming the shot was aimed at her upper torso and nowhere else. It was simply too much of a chance to take. He had to stand his ground.

  Roz motioned with the pistol barrel. “Move out of the way and let me end this.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

  “Then I’ll shoot you first.”

  Hair on the nape of his neck prickled. Trembling inside, he did his best to appear confident. “I thought you liked me. Didn’t all those girls have to die because they came between us?”

  “So what? If I can’t have you, nobody can.”

  Instinct told Noah that drawing Roz into conversation was helping to split her focus, so he continued as if arguing a case in court. “Are you saying they’d still be alive if I hadn’t paid attention to them? That hardly seems the most accurate way to choose.”

  “Accurate enough. I brought them to you, didn’t I? Delivered your girlfriends right to your door?”

  “Is that how they ended up in Paradise? Why didn’t you just leave them where they were?”

  “Because you wouldn’t have known they were gone. You had to know you were free to choose me.”

  “That was a mistake, you know. If you hadn’t crossed state lines the FBI wouldn’t have posted your crimes to their Violent Criminal Apprehension Program.”

  Roz screeched at him. “I’m not a criminal! I keep trying to tell you that but you’re not listening. Nobody listens to me.”

  “What about the guys who were helping you? They must have believed you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Really? How about Buddy Corrigan? He’s the one who lured me to the park after you eliminated my client.”

  “I don’t know any Buddy whatever-his-name-is. And I didn’t tell you to come to any park.”

  “What about the client you put in the hospital? Laura Bright?”

  Roz seemed surprised and slightly subdued. “Yeah, well, I am kind of sorry about her. Any woman who puts up with a man like her husband deserves a break. I just had to finish what I’d started, you know?” She snorted derisively. “I should have rammed that cleaning cart into your cop friend much harder.”

  “Well, you did scare her good.” Pausing, Noah waited until Roz finished chuckling. “I wish you hadn’t cut me, though. My arm still hurts.”

  “That wasn’t me,” she countered. “That was Porter. I told him to stay away from you.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Noah drawled, trying to sound convincingly nonchalant. “You and your helper were not responsible for my client dying in the Paradise park?”

  “Are you dense? I already told you that.”

  Noah slowly lifted one arm and held out his open hand. “Give me the gun, darling.” A slight softening around her eyes encouraged him. “Please?”

  For a few moments he actually had hope. Then, as if the hate inside her was rising, her brow furrowed, and she started to shake her head.

  It was now or never, he told himself. As long as Emily held her fire, this might actually work. What choice did he have? All he could hope at this point was that Emily would understand and forgive him if he got himself killed trying to save her.

  * * *

  Standing directly behind Noah, Emily kept her finger off the trigger while remaining primed for action. What in the world had possessed him to put himself in this kind of jeopardy? Apprehending criminals was her job, not his, and by interfering, he’d figuratively tied her hands.

  She caught a tiny twitch of a shoulder muscle as he spoke to his kidnapper. The man was an unbelievably good actor in the face of possible death. Of course he was scared. So was she. But they had to keep calm and behave rationally despite the actions of such an unbalanced foe.

  There it was again. Emily’s finger slipped inside the trigger guard just enough to provide access in a split second.

  The scene in front of her seemed to drop into slow motion. Noah’s already extended arm swung across his body, the flat of his hand hitting the side of the assailant’s gun and smacking it to one side.

  Emily threw herself in the opposite direction, rolled and came up with her weapon aimed at Roz.

  Both fired.

  Roz’s bullet went wild, shattering a decorative plate on the kitchen wall.

  Emily had better aim. Her shot caught the killer in the shoulder and spun her around.

  Noah wrapped Roz in a tight hold and kept her arms pinned at her sides while she screamed and bled from the superficial wound.

  Back and front doors shattered simultaneously.

  The kitchen filled with police officers from two states and several dark-suited FBI agents. Law enforcement separated the victims from the criminals with Emily’s help, and an ambulance was called to treat the injured woman.

  Noah plunked himself down into one kitchen chair, and Emily took a second one. She relinquished her duty weapon as standard procedure and watched paramedics make sure Noah wasn’t the one who’d been bleeding.

  The longer she sat there and decompressed, the more deflated she felt. This degree of weariness wasn’t normal for her, but then, neither was being part of an armed standoff with a confessed murderer.

  Thankfulness didn’t begin to cover her emotions. Neither did relief. Love was mixed in there somewhere, too, she admitted, although considering the presence of so many other officers, she chose to keep that to herself.

  One thing was certain. Noah had saved her when she’d been out of options, and his glib tongue was an integral part of his arsenal. Hostage negotiators were trained to do the same, but for Noah, the skill seemed to come naturally. No wonder he’d been such a success as a defense attorney. And no wonder Max valued him so highly.

  Thinking of Max Maxwell reminded Emily of his relationship with Olivia Brooks, a closeness that might never have come to light without the stroke that had sidelined him. That was a great example of God bringing good out of what at first seemed like tragedy.

  So it was here, too, Emily concluded. The terrible crimes had not only been solved, but the solution had led her to fully appreciate Noah Holden’s skills and courage.

  Catching his eye across the kitchen table, she smiled slightly. “It’s over. Finally.”

  Because she’d expected agreement, she was put off when he shook his head and said, “No. Not quite.”

  “You believed her?” Emily asked. “The murder in the park fit the pattern of the other killings perfectly.”

  “I don’t care,” Noah said flatly. “I don’t think she’d admit to every other murder and attack except one.”

  “You think Buddy did it?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Then who?”

  “Maybe Sam Fielding, the ex Charity had requested the restraining order against? Maybe someone entirely different. I just don’t think we can wrap this all up in a pretty bow and pin everything on Roz.”

  Emily was flabbergasted. “You’re defending her.”

  “I guess I am.” Noah shrugged.

  “Is that why you kept her talking? I thought it was because you were being smart, not devious.”

  “The truth is the truth, Emily,” Noah said.

  She would have been a lot happier if he hadn’t sounded quite so positive.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The idea that Charity Roskov had been attacked by someone other than Rosalind Banfield was etched in Noah’s mind. What he wanted to do was discuss the concept calmly with Emily ASAP and see if they couldn’t work out the answer to the puzzle together.

  A couple of aspects bothered him, especially when he felt the ache of the injury to his back. Roz had admitted that her cohort had used the knife on his arm but had vehemently denied shooting at him at all, let alone with a rifle. That fact was more than a bit unnerving, especially given Emily’s choice to lump all the attacks together.