When Darkness Falls(69)

“Remember what I said.” Devon slammed the front door, spun the lock, and shot the deadbolt.

Haley joined him at the door, unsure the locks could keep Lydia out. Through the peephole, she watched Lydia walk to the rental car, get in, and drive away.

“That’s her car?”

“It’s mine. A rental. I left the keys in it. But who cares, so long as she leaves? We should keep watch until the sun rises to make sure.” Devon stepped away from the door. “You watch here at the front. It would take her longer to get through this door. I’ll watch at the patio door.”

Haley turned sideways so she could both see the front walk and glance at Devon now and then. He kept his back to her, one hand holding the blinds open a crack so he could peer out. He held his body tense, as if about to leap away at any moment. And he probably was, Haley thought, as she doubted he’d gotten this close to a window within a few minutes of sunrise in months.

“You’re sure you don’t want her to stay?” The question sounded childish and petty to Haley, and it wasn’t the way she’d meant to phrase it, but it came out anyway. And so what if she did sound petty? He was her husband, and he needed to explain himself.

“Haley, I’m sorry,” Devon said. “I know you saw me with Lydia on the street by the church. I wish it hadn’t happened, but it did. There is something, some attraction to Lydia that I have that’s beyond sex.”

“Beyond sex.” Haley felt her insides turn cold.

“No. No. Not love. What I mean is, if it was only sex, if I was only attracted to her, I would never have done that because I only want to be with you. But the draw to her, it has something to do with what she did to me, with what she turned me into. I know that sounds bad. It sounds like an excuse, and all I can say is I want to sort it out, I want to get help. I know I don’t deserve another chance. I’ve done everything wrong, and I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you.”

Haley had turned to face Devon as he spoke, and he’d been staring mainly at the floor, so both were taken by surprise when the front door flew open, sending Haley flying across the room.





Chapter Thirty-Four


Devon sped past Haley. She felt a rush of air but didn’t actually see him until he slammed into Lydia and powered her out of the house. Haley staggered to her feet. As soon as Devon dived back into the house, she slammed the door shut. She peered through the peephole. The front door faced east. The first faint rays of sun pinkened the horizon. Lydia stared at the sky, looked back at the house, then jumped into the car and drove away, tires squealing.

Devon hugged Haley. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Haley rubbed her lower back. “I’ll be sore, but I think I’m okay.”

“I should have known she left too easily,” Devon said.

“How’d you convince her to let you throw her out? The first time?”

“I got her in a wrestling hold and told her if she didn’t leave when you got here, I’d slit her throat and make sure all the blood drained out before I let go of her.”

Haley reached for the rosary, still hidden beneath her blouse. “Would you have?”

“No.” The word came too quickly. Devon let go of her. “Yes. I would have.”

Haley backed away, crossed the room, and fully closed the blinds over the sliding door to the patio. Her back to Devon, she pulled the blind cord, which was on a pulley system, so it poked out, easy to see and reach.

She perched on a wicker chair a few yards from the cord.

Devon remained in the doorway between the entryway and living room area. “You’re afraid of me.”

“I don’t want to believe you’d ever hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t. I won’t,” Devon said. “But I’ve done…other things. Not only the women in Chicago. But here.”

The way he said it made Haley shiver. Before, when he’d spoken of the Chicago murders and his dreams, his voice had wavered, his eyes had flicked upward as if he were trying to remember. Now he met her eyes, and his voice sounded steady.

“What did you do?”

“I killed a woman and a man. After, the memory fades in and out. But I know it was real.”

Haley swallowed. Her tongue and throat felt parched. “How can you know that?”

“I had blood on my hands the other night.” Devon held out his palms and stared at them. “And it wasn’t mine.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.”

“I need help.” Devon’s shoulders and knees sagged, but he didn’t fall. He moved toward Haley, knelt at her chair. She took his hands in hers. His fingers felt icy and damp. “If there is any help.”

“Of course there is,” Haley said, feeling a stir of hope that he’d finally admitted he needed it. It was only a first step, but it was something. “We’ll find it. And I’ll do everything I can, be there every step of the way.”

“I don’t know how you can still want to be with me. Not just because of Lydia, but the murders.”

Haley stroked his hair, wishing she had it in herself to keep a physical distance from him. It would be wiser, safer, but it felt impossible. She felt drawn to him, felt as if the air between them were vibrating. “I can’t believe you did those things. You’re not that kind of person, Devon. I know you. I’ve lived with you. You’ve been sleepwalking, yes, once. Maybe many times. Had a lot of violent dreams. Maybe you’ve developed some sort of unhealthy fascination with blood or pain. But those things don’t make you a killer. There’s some other explanation.”