40. SKYE

Cascade, Idaho

I didn't expect it to work—even though it was my idea.

Brecia did the talking. She knew April and the girls best. And neither Meghan nor I were going to fight her for the pleasure. She had to lie right between April and James—who had stripped off his jeans and crawled into bed twenty minutes earlier.

I knew Meghan was right. He might have dragged his wife and kids here in a panic; after all, they were his family. Even psychopaths held some things dear, right? Even so, my cynicism reminded me that leaving them behind at the house in Boise would have been a liability. April knew him better than anybody else. Which wasn't saying much.

If I was judging the way he was calculating the balance of resources and risks, April and the girls were quickly becoming liabilities here, too. I didn't know how soon he planned to act. Or what he planned to do. All three of us had seen what he was capable of, even when he wasn't cornered; however, unlike Brecia, I'd never imagined myself capable of stopping him. He'd done what he did to me. And he'd keep on doing it.

All we had were whispers and flickering lights.

Or that was what I thought, anyway.

Brecia didn't mince her words as she curled up next to April on the quilted, sagging bed and got right up next to her ear.

"When you wake up, you need to find a way to take the girls and get the hell out of here. You can't wait. He's going to kill them. He's going to kill you, too. Just like he killed me." She paused for a second then said, "I'm Brecia, by the way. And I've been following him—and you—for the past two years. Do you remember the nights he came home late from ‘work?' The story you read about the girl who was murdered right by your hometown in Utah. The girl police are asking him about. Remember the photo Nina sent you. Do you remember—"

That was as far as she got. April's eyes had been twitching back and forth the whole time she talked, in the dim light from the little bedroom window. Then, suddenly, she was sitting upright in bed, crying and stumbling out of the covers, flailing to find her phone on the nightstand.

The phone wasn't there. She backed into the corner of the room, staring at James's still form, breathing hard and swiping at her eyes.

"Damn," Meghan whispered, turning toward Brecia and me. "That worked fast."

Brecia was still staring at April. "I can't believe I could have been doing that the whole time. I never thought …"

I stepped forward and took her hand, just like I'd done with Meghan a few minutes earlier. I knew, even before I touched her hand, that she was headed down a rabbit hole of what ifs. That if she'd somehow figured this out earlier, she could have stopped him.

"No," I told her. "No. Don't carry that. It won't do her any good." I nodded at April, who was carefully shutting the bedroom door behind her and padding into the hallway. "Come on, let's go."

I'd hoped that April would be wrapping the girls up into blankets. That she'd tuck their sleepy little bodies into the minivan, find the keys, and drive until she found the police. That they'd all arrive back here before it was even light outside. Before he knew what was happening.

Instead, she sank to the floor next to their bed, staring at the creepy-ass teddy bears on the quilt in the darkness. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks, glinting silver in the wash of moonlight through the window. She sat on the floor with her hands clasped tight in her lap, shaking her head.

The three of us sat down next to her on the floor. It was impossible to know what she was thinking or how Brecia's words had made their way into her dreams.

I was glad it had been enough to get her out of bed.

I just hoped it was enough to finally wake her up.