No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(111)

29


This wasn’t going to be hard, Sly told himself. All he had to do was draw Dawson to the door. As soon as he opened it—boom! The sound of the gun would cause Sadie to scream. She might even come running. And the hatchet would do the rest. In a few minutes, the whole thing would be over. She would’ve gotten what she’d been asking for, what she deserved. Sly would then drag Dawson’s body outside while he went back for the car. He preferred Dawson didn’t bleed too much in the house, but even if he did, and the police found it, those who wielded weapons like hatchets often injured themselves in the process of trying to hurt someone else. The presence of his blood wouldn’t prove anything—especially if Sly did a good job cleaning up.

He turned the handle of the back door again and brushed against the side of the house. He had to be careful, couldn’t be too obvious, or Dawson would simply call 9-1-1. Sly needed him to come take a look to see what was going on first. It wasn’t as if a man recently charged with murder would be overly hasty to call the police anyway, though. Dawson knew there wasn’t anyone on the force who’d be eager to help him.

When the ambient light he could see filtering down from the hallway upstairs went off, Sly knew someone was coming. He pressed himself to the back of the house and began to count. He had no specific number in mind. He just needed to remain calm until the door opened. Only then could he fire. Dawson might expect a confrontation, a fight, but he’d assume Sly was laboring under some hesitancy to take things too far, wouldn’t expect to open the door and be shot immediately.

That was why Sly felt his plan would work.

*

Sadie crept down the stairs behind Dawson. She had her phone in her hand, planned to call 9-1-1 at the first hint of trouble. She had to make sure they had a legitimate reason first, though. She couldn’t be perceived as someone who was trying to make Sly look bad, not when most of the officers on the force believed that Dawson was a murderer and she was an unfaithful wife.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“Stay back,” Dawson warned.

There was still a small part of her that wondered if they were overreacting to be so defensive and frightened. When she’d married Sly, she’d certainly never expected to find herself in such a situation. He’d seemed normal then. But he hadn’t been normal for a long time. She didn’t care if her reaction was extreme. She wasn’t going to lower her guard.

Dawson lifted a hand, indicating that she should remain on the stairs as he hit ground level and turned toward the back door. Unfortunately, there were no windows that looked out on the porch, but there were several small triangular-shaped windows in the door itself. Sadie held her breath as she leaned over the banister to watch Dawson peer out of those. They’d left the lights off downstairs so that whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see in, except via the dim light filtering down from above. But that meant Dawson seemed to get swallowed up in the darkness.

He must not have seen anything, because he didn’t open the door, didn’t go on the porch. She heard him move into the kitchen instead, and then the living room, checking to see if he could learn anything from what he could see outside the other windows in the house.

“Anything?” she whispered.

“Not yet.”

“Is there any chance we could’ve imagined those noises?”

“We didn’t imagine anything. But there’s always a chance it was a raccoon or possum.”

“Should I call the police?”

“Not yet. What would you tell them? That we heard someone on the porch? I doubt that would bring them running.”

He made a good point. They didn’t have anything to report yet...

She heard a creak, again coming from the porch, and felt her heart rate spike. Someone or something was out there; she was certain of it. She was about to ask if Dawson had heard the same thing, but he’d already switched directions, indicating he had.

“Stay back,” he murmured again.

She didn’t get the chance to respond before she heard breaking glass. She lifted her phone to call the police, but before she could even punch in the digits, a single gunshot rent the air.

*

Sly hadn’t wanted to break the door. He hadn’t had any choice. Dawson was too leery to come out, too smart to put himself at such a disadvantage, and Sly didn’t have a lot of time to mess around. He wasn’t too worried about it, though. He’d just stage the scene to make it look as if Sadie had tried to lock Dawson out—which was reasonable if they’d started to fight or she was afraid of him—and he’d forced his way in.

Sly heard her scream as he kicked the door open to find her frozen on the stairs, a look of horror on her face as she gazed down at Dawson. Sly hadn’t been able to see what he was shooting at, but he’d hit his target. Dawson had crumpled to the floor. Sly could sense Sadie’s uncertainty and desire to run toward her new boyfriend, which surprised him. She cared so much about him...

But then she saw the hatchet and realized what was in store for her.

*

A burst of adrenaline made Sadie’s legs so rubbery they would hardly carry her up the stairs. She wanted to call 9-1-1, but there was no time. Sly would be on her before she could complete the call.

All she could do was try to reach the bathroom. Once she got in there and locked the door, he could break it down with the hatchet, of course, but at least that might afford her the precious seconds she needed to reach emergency services.