Right Where We Belong (Silver Springs #4)(100)

His reaction was so out of sync with what the situation called for that Savanna could only gape at him. He wasn’t distraught that he’d harmed innocent people, or upset by what he’d been through or even relieved that he’d be getting out. He considered this a game, of sorts, was not only proud of what he’d done but that he was going to get away with it. He thought he’d outsmarted everyone. That the game was almost over.

It was her job to keep it in play, or he would get away with everything.

She curled the fingernails of her free hand into her palm. “So are you going to sign the divorce papers?”

“Aha! Now we get to the real reason you’ve finally shown up.”

That wasn’t the reason, but she could understand why he’d find it much more believable than the reconciliation she’d tried to establish in those letters. “You thought I’d simply wait until you got around to it?”

“What’s the rush?”

“I’d rather not have a rapist in my life. That’s the rush.”

He started laughing. “You deserve to be raped yourself, or worse.”

“You think it’s funny to talk like that?”

“It’s funny to imagine it. It’s also funny to think you believed a few letters making nice and a hundred dollars on my commissary account were going to make me forget everything else.”

“What reason do you have to hang on to me, Gordon? You obviously don’t love me.”

She thought he’d at least mention the kids, but he didn’t. “It’s not about love. It’s about money.”

“We were barely able to pay our bills every month. The only money I have is what’s left of my inheritance.”

“So? I deserve a big chunk of that.”

“How do you figure?” she asked.

“For years I made more than you did, which means I contributed more.”

“That isn’t true! I took care of the house and kids. You never lifted a finger to help. What kind of a dollar amount should we attach to all the child-rearing, cooking and cleaning I did while you were out attacking women?”

“I’m not attaching any dollar amount to it, and neither will the judge.”

She sat back and folded her arms. “I see.”

“You see what?”

“You still think you’re getting out.”

At last, that smug expression slid from his face. “I am getting out. You’re kidding yourself if you don’t believe it. My attorney told me yesterday that the DA has no evidence left, none that will result in a conviction. He’d be a fool to proceed. I’m surprised he hasn’t already dropped the charges.”

Savanna was the reason the DA hadn’t acted yet, and she knew it. “They might not have the evidence they need on the three rapes, but they’re getting what they need on Emma Ventnor.”

He gave her a speculative look. “What are you talking about?”

“They have tire impression evidence.”

“No, they don’t. If they had that, I’d have heard about it by now. Emma went missing a year ago.”

“And they found a tire track on the side of the road, but it was too faint. The pictures they took didn’t show the ridge detail they needed. But some guy has figured out how to do enhancements on the computer and build a 3-D model from there. They’re having him help, will be testing the enhanced impression against the tires on your van in a few weeks.”

His eyes narrowed. “Good for them. Won’t change anything. I had nothing to do with the Emma Ventnor case.”

“You weren’t at work when she went missing.”

“I was getting a bite to eat.”

“Where?”

That cocky smile reappeared. “Hell if I know. All the details from that day are fuzzy.”

“What happened, Gordon? Was she screaming, fighting? You couldn’t subdue her even with your super athletic and tricky wrestling holds? You had to kill her?”

She was taunting him, knew how quickly he could get incensed from gibes of that sort.

“I wouldn’t make fun of those holds, if I were you,” he gritted out. “I could choke you out in a matter of seconds.”

“Is that what you did to her? Choked her out? Why did you pick her as one of your victims? Did you see her coming out of the school and start to follow her? Spot her in traffic and decide to wreck into her car to get her to pull over?”

“You’re an idiot,” he said. “If I wrecked into her car, there would’ve been damage on my van, right? Did you ever see any damage?”

The warning in his voice let her know she was going too far—that she was making an enemy for life. Gordon wasn’t the forgiving sort. But Savanna didn’t dare back off. This was the moment. She had to pull out all the stops, do everything she could. “Bumpers don’t always show damage, Gordon. That van was like a tank.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, and stood.

Savanna’s nails bit deeper into her palm. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my cell. I’d rather be sitting there, dreaming of taking off your clothes and—” he ran a hand over his neck “—doing what I like to do in bed than see you sitting here, doing everything you can to help the police.”