Page 35 of Night Moves
“Not always. Just when I don’t have a physical outlet for my frustration.” He flashed her a cute smile and handed her a glass, but she could see that he was forcing it. “Probably why I like high adrenaline sports so much.”
She took a sip of the icy liquid. “I’m not judging so don’t take this the wrong way, but how do you reconcile your need for adrenaline with your faith?”
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like you have to keep moving because you aren’t in control of the situation, when in fact, God is in control all the time. Not us.”
“Not sure I agree.” His thumbs started tapping on the counter in rhythm with his foot, but he didn’t look away. “We have free will. We can control things.”
“Only if God allows it.” She faced him. “Trust me. I know. Growing up the way I did showed me what little in my life I could actually control. I was kind of like you back then. Not in the pacing or adrenaline thing, but I always had to keep busy. I only felt good when I accomplished something. Probably the reason I was able to get my Ph.D.”
“And, what happened?” He pinned his focus on her.
“I burned out. Plain and simple. Finished school and was a wreck.” She swallowed away the memories so she could tell her story without getting emotional. “That made me dig deep to find out why.”
“And what did you learn?”
“Something surprising. I had low self-esteem from being teased as a kid and having parents who didn’t show any real affection. That part I knew. But what I discovered was that I found my worth in accomplishment. The more I accomplished, the better I felt about myself. I believed as a kid that if only I did more or did better my parents would love me. And that my classmates would seeme. Not a stereotype they wanted to see. So I pushed myself even harder. Got more done.”
“And now?” He took a long drink and set down his glass but kept his gaze on her.
“I still struggle with doing too much at work, but I make sure it’s not for that reason. I do it now because the people I work with need help, and I can’t let them down. But I have to stop on a regular basis and analyze my actions just to be sure. And I also have to make time to chill.”
He shoved his fingers into his hair and left it messed up. “I’ve never thought about why I do what I do. I’ve always kept busy and on the move. Until now, no one has asked how this might not jive with my faith.”
“Sorry,” she said sincerely. “I don’t mean to sound like your shrink. That was pretty forward of me.”And way too personal if I want to keep you at arms-length.
“No. No. It was good. I need to give it some thought.” He started to tap the counter, but then flattened his palm on the surface. “I mean I’m not trying to overcome a difficult childhood like you. Mine was ideal. Mom homeschooled us all, and she loves us with a passion. Dad’s more reserved but he shows his love in different ways. So that’s not an issue.”
“Could it have to do with your birth order? Were your older siblings super-achievers? Good grades, all of that?” She shook her head. “Listen to me. Going all Ph.D. on you and sounding like I have all the answers. You can ignore me if you want.”
He perched on a stool near the island. “I don’t mind answering. Sierra is the real brainiac of the family, and being the oldest, she set a high bar. Aiden, Brendan, and Clay are smart enough. I struggled with school, though. I’m not so good at sit-down activities when I wanted to be on the go. So I didn’t concentrate like I should have.”
“Maybe you wanted to keep moving to compensate. If you weren’t there, you couldn’t fail.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“And maybe that’s even why you love the adrenaline rush in sports or your activities. It’s accomplishing something difficult.”
“Could be.” His eyes sharpened with an edgy intensity that matched his body language. “I appreciate your insight but now’s not the time for me to think about it. Not when we have a serial killer to find.”
10
The three hours of sleep that Drake had gotten at his condo wasn’t nearly enough and he was bleary-eyed as he signed in with the officer of record outside Gentry’s house. As Natalie scribbled her name on the roster, he blinked a few times and rubbed his dry eyes. Wouldn’t do to be groggy now that he had a chance to look for leads.
Natalie shed her heels, and he helped her put on the requisite paper booties, doing his best to ignore her sleek legs.
“You’re sure you’re okay with going back in there?” he asked as he handed her latex gloves.
“If it helps capture him, I’ll do just about anything.”
He stepped back to let her enter the two-story foyer. The house was grand and far bigger for what Drake expected on a police officer’s salary. But it was the sight of Gentry’s elaborate video system set up in the office that took Drake’s attention. Malone had mentioned Gentry had inherited some money and maybe he blew it on the house and equipment.
Natalie stopped outside the glass paneled office door. “Unbelievable. Kirk had this planned. He knew he would need to escape someday.”
Drake took in the large screen facing the window along with a ceiling-mounted projector that displayed Gentry at his desk and then getting up to move through the room. The window faced the road so Clay would’ve seen this video through the curtains and think Gentry was in the office. Gentry had synced the timer to a similar system in his bedroom.
Londyn stepped into the hallway and joined them. They’d been apart for only a few hours, but dark circles now hung under her eyes. “Crazy, right? I mean, who does this? This is paranoia at the finest.”
