Page 27 of Danger In The Backcountry
He’d been ordered to put down Lettie’s bear.
But, today, he had much bigger prey to hunt.
Chapter Twenty-Three
She couldn’t stop shaking.
The food Rome had ordered had tasted like nothing but ash on her tongue. Dry and tasteless and hard to swallow. Not even the half-melted milkshakes—both of them because why the hell not?—did nothing but prime her for a sugar crash in a couple hours. But the logical part of her brain that wasn’t hung up on what’d happened understood she’d had to get calories into her body.
Her hair frizzed around her face, exhaustion tugging at her muscles as she tore through the clothes she’d packed. Where was it? She’d been searching for ten minutes. Tossing another shirt behind her, she went through the small inventory of personal belongings for the fifth time. It was right here. Rome wouldn’t have taken it, Right? He knew how much she loved that jersey. Knew that she couldn’t go to sleep without it. Then again, how well did she really know him?
Her heart threatened to sink to the bottom of her chest cavity at the thought. He’dkilledsomeone. Taken his uncle’s life without hesitation when he’d only been thirteen. He’d gone to juvenile detention. In all the time they’d been together, he’d never mentioned that. Had kept it from her. What was she supposed to do with that information? What had been his plan? That she would appreciate the brutal honesty and fall into bed with him to save their marriage?
Hell, she felt so stupid. The natural way he’d held that rifle all these years, the way he never doubted himself with a target atthe end of the barrel. It’d been easy for him to pull that trigger. Trained. Lettie’s search slowed as nausea charged up her throat. Sinking onto the bed, she tried to breathe through the tremors still racking her lacerated and bruised hands, doing everything in her power not to collapse into a whining ball of misery. It wouldn’t do any good. It wouldn’t change the facts.
Her husband was a killer.
A stalker had been watching her for months.
Four people were dead in connection to her.
Rome might be involved.
The black bear in which her entire career depended on was still a target.
And she’d lost her favorite jersey.
The forensics team was still in the process of going through her van. According to Randy, they would process every inch, which could take a few more hours, but they hadn’t found a hockey jersey. The temptation to sink into the mattress and never surface dug its claws into her.
Larsons didn’t stay down. But she wanted to. More so than after finding those divorce papers. She’d thought she and Rome could try again, that they could make their marriage work this time. She’d been willing to uproot her entire life here in Southern Utah just for that chance. She’d let herself feed that little drop of hope she carried into every date—every new start—until it’d finally started to grow in size these past few days. Because of Rome.
But they’d never had a chance.
He didn’t trust her.
“Why do the men I like end up being killers or dying at the hands of one?” It wasn’t funny, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the ridiculousness of her life right now. If she didn’t, she might never stop sobbing. Lettie flung an arm overher eyes. Ugh. Her heart hurt. Those men hadn’t deserved to die for coming into her orbit. The laugh died.
Rome wasn’t involved in these deaths.
He might’ve kept her from learning the truth about his childhood and the depraved, brutal hatred he’d endured all those years, but he would never use those experiences against another person. He’d never inflict the kind of torture he’d survived at his uncle’s hands. He’d had the opportunity to dominate, manipulate and control her from the moment they were married. But there hadn’t been a single moment in their relationship she’d feared him. Not like she’d feared that man in the woods.
Oh, hell. The killer was still out there. Still saw Rome as a threat.
Lettie vaulted upright, grabbing for the headboard to steady herself on her injured ankle. The swelling had gone down, but she wouldn’t be entering any marathons soon. Not that she ran for fun anyway. Only when trying to escape a serial killer. Who may have attacked Shawn. Who could still be targeting Rome.
Hobbling across the hotel room, she ignored the dragging sensation urging her to pass out from exhaustion. She’d meant what she’d said to Rome earlier. She didn’t want anything to with this investigation. She didn’t want to go back into the park. And she certainly wasn’t ready to give their marriage a second chance, but he’d come for her when she’d needed him the most in those woods. She couldn’t leave him out there to fight this alone. Grabbing her purse, Lettie extracted her phone.
And prayed Rome hadn’t changed his number.
She tapped his contact information and let the phone do the rest as she headed for the door. The line rang once. Twice. Then went to voicemail. She tried again. With the same result. The automated message for his voicemail beeped. “Rome, I knowyou don’t want to hear from me, but call me when you get this. I need to know you’re okay.”
Pain flared through her palm as she grabbed for the hotel room door and wrenched the thick panel open.
To find a wall of muscle on the other side.
“Shawn.” She could do nothing but blink and hope her brain wasn’t playing tricks on her as exhaustion from the past few days held tight. This had to a cruel dream, but she wasn’t imagining the bruises and cuts all over her intern’s face. “What happened to you? Where have you been? The police have been to your apartment. Everything is destroyed.”
“Dr. Larson, thank goodness I found you.” He shoved through the doorway with more force than she’d expected, bypassing her altogether. Shawn paced from one end of the room and back as she closed the door. Nervous energy quickened every move of his hands as he rushed to fill in the blanks. “I’ve been trying to find you for two days. A masked man came to my apartment. He tried to abduct me, but I fought back.”
