No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(110)

Just to be safe, he’d pushed her Pontiac Grand Prix clear to the end of the street before getting behind the wheel. But that was when the hunt for the hatchet had started. Before he remembered seeing one at Pete’s place, he’d almost decided he’d have to shoot Sadie and Dawson. Two bullets accomplished the same goal. Except...he liked the idea of hacking Sadie to pieces and letting Dawson take the blame for it. Dawson would be dead, too, of course—his body hidden so well that it would never be found—which meant he’d never stand trial for her murder, but that didn’t matter. His disappearance would be enough to convict him in the minds of everyone who mattered. Sly would then be totally vindicated for his actions the past few weeks and, so long as they couldn’t prove he had any part in Sadie’s murder and Dawson’s disappearance, life would go on pretty much as it had before Sadie decided she had the nerve to stand up to him.

In other words, he’d win the battle they’d started.

“Poetic justice,” he muttered as he went over his plan, again and again, while parking his mother’s car on a deserted side road not far from the farm and walking the rest of the way. He would’ve preferred to get closer. He’d have to bring the car to the house after he killed Dawson so that he could dispose of the body before morning, which would eat up valuable time. But—he felt the solid weight of the hatchet he carried as he walked—if he was going to pull this off, certain things had to be handled in a certain way.

Fortunately, he was a cop: he knew exactly how to get away with murder.

*

Dawson came awake. He wasn’t sure why, since dawn was obviously a long way off and he couldn’t hear or see anything he’d consider alarming. Although most of the lights were off, they’d turned them off and left the TV on. Some ’80s sitcom blared in the room.

Sadie, still asleep in his arms, started to rouse when he moved. “Something wrong?” she murmured, and then she came awake, too, as if she suddenly realized that they’d fallen asleep and shouldn’t have.

“Everything’s fine,” he told her. “I’m just going to check.”

“No.” She grabbed him before he could slide out from under her weight. “Let’s stay together.”

“At least let me look out the window.” He wanted to do more than that—wanted to go out and see if he’d caught anything in his trap—but he hesitated to leave her alone. He knew she was frightened, and he felt she had good reason to be.

He couldn’t see anything to be concerned about in the front. He checked a few of the other windows, but clouds had rolled in front of the moon, dimming its light. He couldn’t make out anything except an abundance of shadows, some of which could indicate the presence of a human being, but probably didn’t. “Where’s your phone?” he asked. “Why don’t you see if Chief Thomas has returned your calls?”

Sadie sat up, rubbed her face and reached for her cell, which was on the coffee table. “Nope.”

They’d had the ringer on, wouldn’t have missed it, but he thought maybe a text had come in. “Nothing at all?”

“No call, no text, nothing.”

The police had really left them on their own. But Dawson wasn’t surprised. Since when had they ever done him any favors? “What time is it?”

“One-fifteen.”

There was a lot of night left.

“I hate that we’re letting Sly disrupt our lives like this,” he grumbled. “He wins as long as we are always watching our backs, can’t live a normal life.”

“That’s nothing new for me,” Sadie said. “But I feel bad I’ve dragged you into his sights.”

“You didn’t drag me. I put myself there.”

She cast him a discouraged look. “I’m still sorry.”

He pulled her to her feet. “Don’t be. You’re worth it. The fire investigator will find something. Then we’ll be out of this. But for now, let’s go to bed. We can’t wait up, expecting the worst, every night.”

She seemed reluctant, but after making sure all the doors were locked—again—he convinced her to accompany him to his bedroom. “If he does something tonight, Chief Thomas will know we were right about him.”

“That’ll be small consolation if we’re dead.”

He didn’t respond. What could he say? She was right.

They used the bathroom and brushed their teeth before falling into bed. Dawson was still tired, but he didn’t go to sleep right away. He curled around Sadie, hoping to offer her some comfort and security.

“I’ve been trying so hard not to love you,” she whispered.

He kissed her neck. “How’s that going for you?”

“I’m failing. Miserably.”

He couldn’t help smiling. “Like I said, maybe we were meant to be together.”

“Or maybe, just when I’m finding some happiness, Sly will put an end to that, too.” Her hand pulled his up to her mouth so she could kiss it.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“The same type of thing has happened to other people.”

He held her tighter. “I’m not going to let it happen to you,” he promised, but it was only a few moments later when he heard a subtle noise, a rattle, that told him someone might be trying to get inside the house.