Chapter Eighteen
Four hikers. Four men all connected to Lettie in the past six months.
There’d been enough left of the latest hiker to identify him as Lettie’s most recent romantic interest. It hadn’t taken much for law enforcement officials to access his phone records upon confirmation.
Then pull the most recent data that told them he’d recently been in contact with an ecologist working for Zion National Park.
Arlette Larson. From there, all they’d had to do was connect the dots based off Lettie’s statement and search out the other men who might be at risk of crossing the killer’s path.
Men her attacker believed to be an obstacle to keeping her for himself.
Men she’d gone out with on dates.
Three more identities for three previous hikers in which the medical examiner struggled to confirm fell into place using family testimony, social media profiles, phone records and Lettie’s help.
“You haven’t said anything since we left the hospital.
” Uncertainly laced her words. Nothing like the woman he’d known in the past decade, which meant she was trying to hold herself together since they’d walked out of those woods, barely alive and bleeding.
And any second now, that effort would break.
He’d felt her attention in the hours since they’d been discharged.
Him with a sling to support his shoulder, her with a splint around her ankle and new bandages across her palms. But there were too many emotions for him to unpack right now.
They’d survived out of luck. Not skill. And he would have to live with that for the rest of his life.
Just as he’d have to live with the fact she’d moved on far more easily than he had these past six months. “What do you want me to say?”
She hobbled toward the van. Right where she’d left it three days ago at the edge of the most recent crime scene.
In which her latest date had been slaughtered.
The van’s headlights lit up at a touch of a button, and Lettie pulled up short of sliding back the side door.
They weren’t staying here. The killer was familiar with her van and would most likely try to keep tabs on her through it if he’d survived, but her clothing had been confiscated as evidence, and the scrubs she’d changed into wouldn’t keep her warm while Rome found a place to keep her safe. “I want you to be honest with me.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Because the truth was he had no reason to hate that she’d started dating mere weeks after he’d left, if the ME was correct in the time frame the first hiker had disappeared.
Rome was the one who’d ended their marriage.
He was the one who’d walked out and expected her to follow.
Rome took care of the van’s side door for her, using a sliver of the pent-up energy that’d festered in the hospital.
Didn’t help. “Grab all of your clothes if you can, and whatever else you might need. I don’t know when you’ll be able to come back. ”
Lettie moved past him, letting the subject drop. She hauled herself into the belly of the modernized beast, the van rocking with her weight as she crossed from one end to the other, piling clothes and products on the bed. “What happens to my van? We’re just going to leave it here?”
“You told law enforcement rangers the killer admitted to gaining access to the van. They want to get a look to see if he might’ve left anything behind.
Fingerprints, DNA. That kind of thing.” He stepped inside, taking in the simplicity and functionality of the living space with its high-quality cabinets, countertops and layout.
Every inch of space was utilized and used.
He’d heard of people building out vans to live on the road, working remotely, sleeping in public parking lots overnight and moving onto the next spot the following morning. “You did this all yourself?”
She hauled her backpack from her shoulders and set it on the wood-slatted bed before emptying the contents out.
Wrappers from the food they’d eaten, a smaller version of the first aid kit he carried, sunscreen, water bottle—all vacated to make room for whatever she needed to survive the next couple of days.
“Yes. With the money I got from selling the house.”
His shoulder pinched at the reminder that he was nothing more than a nomad now.
A lifestyle he’d chosen over continuing the fight for their marriage.
He’d slid back into it with more ease than he’d expected, but there wasn’t anything exciting about being homeless.
At least not more than that first night he and Lettie had shared a bed together. “You enjoy it? Living in the park?”
“It makes my job easier.” Every ounce of her attention settled on folding her clothes to fit into her pack.
Her ankle was giving her trouble, throwing off her posture slightly, but she wouldn’t admit to it.
“My intern, Shawn, he keeps tabs on Sam whenever I’m not in the lab.
Every morning he reports Sam’s whereabouts, and I’m able to find him in the field. ”
“Easier doesn’t make it enjoyable.” It was easier for him to travel state to state, taking random jobs for the feds and the National Park System, but it’d long ceased to bring him any kind of happiness.
He’d left all that behind when he’d walked away.
He hadn’t known it then. It was beating him over the head now though.
How every day had been a struggle to get out of bed.
How he hadn’t felt that peace that came with waiting out his prey as he had as a kid.
How much distance he’d put between himself and the people he worked with.
But the past three days had sparked something inside of him.
The only change? The woman standing in front of him.
Her fingers slipped on the shirt she’d folded and refolded, and Lettie sank onto the bed.
Hands still. “I had this idea of starting over. Of figuring out who I was, living on my own for the first time. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have anyone to answer to.
No ridiculous expectations or rules I had to follow.
No one texting me a dozen times asking when I’ll be home or getting mad I missed another dinner.
I could go to bed covered in popcorn with my iPad still going or take three days to shower.
” A humorless laugh broke through the silence filling the van.
“But nobody tells you with all that freedom…”
“How lonely you get.” His chest constricted around his pent-up breath. All this time he’d questioned why he hadn’t been able to move on as easily as she had, and it turned out, they were equally stuck. Lost.
“Yeah.” Lettie raised her gaze to his, her features softening.
Gone was the know-it-all who could do everything herself.
This was the woman he’d fallen in love with, who’d allowed him to see beneath the masks others had demanded she wear.
Not the scientist who had to keep fighting for recognition.
Not the pressured daughter who could never live up to her family’s expectations.
Just… Lettie. He’d missed that. Missed her.
“I am sorry, Rome. About our anniversary. It was important, and I let my work get in the way. Of everything. And you deserved better.”
His throat dried. He…hadn’t expected that. Rome shifted his hip against the countertop, needing the support as the heaviness drained from his shoulders. He’d needed that. For her to acknowledge one of the many cracks that’d broken their marriage. “I’m sorry, too.”
“What do you possibly have to be sorry for?” Throwing her T-shirt in her pack, she moved on to the next item of clothing.
“For not fighting hard enough to keep you while we were married.” He could admit that now. How quickly he’d given up. “For not being honest how I felt every time you didn’t answer my messages or come home. And for not taking an interest in the things that made you happy.”
Rome cleared his throat. “I’ve always known you were a woman who would do whatever it took to get what you wanted, and it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you all those years ago.
You’re brilliant and beautiful and so sure of yourself.
You fought day in and day out to leave your mark, and I admired that.
You were so out of my league, and I just felt lucky enough you’d given me the time of day.
” His own laugh felt off. Hollow. “But then after a few years you started spending more time at the university. You started smiling less. Checking in with me less. And I realized I was the one of those things holding you back. That I didn’t make you happy anymore. ”
“Rome.” The softness in her features contorted to devastation.
“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty.
” Embarrassment and a sliver of anguish shot through him.
He shoved away from the counter with a little too much force, nearly unbalancing himself.
But it was her. It was being in this van with her.
It was almost losing her that had thrown him off balance.
And he didn’t know where to go from here.
“I’m just… I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed. ”
“But you were.” Lettie shot off the bed, shifting her weight into her good leg as she struggled to close the distance between them.
But the pain in her expression had him reaching for her first. Her short fingernails dug into the skin of his forearms. “You were exactly what I needed. At every turn, you were there. You made sure I wasn’t relying on take out the nights I spent in the lab.
You were the one who reminded me that rest was just as productive as work and that I needed to go to bed earlier than midnight.
You stood by me every time my parents threw out another passive-aggressive comment for not doing more with my career.
Making more money, publishing more papers, getting the next promotion. You didn’t care about any of that.”
She fisted both hands into the sleeves of his T-shirt for balance.
Her voice softened. “You held me in the doctor’s office when the fertility doctor told us we couldn’t conceive, and I sobbed.
For hours. No one had ever done that for me before.
Not once. Rome, you showed me how to be loved.
Because of you I was able to cut off contact with my parents and have the courage to move out here into the middle of nowhere in a van, and I will never be able to thank you enough for that. ”
His hands rested at her hips, helping her stabilize, but also, because he couldn’t stand another second of not touching her. Of using her warmth to chase back the terror he’d experienced in the hours she’d disappeared. “You should hate me for how I left.”
“I did. For a while. But the same way you admire me for going after what I want, I admire you for putting yourself first for once.” She pushed at his good shoulder, her smile flashing wide. “It took me leaving my old life behind to see the importance in that. You were a great example.”
“Glad I could be of service.”
“You are. More than you know. I wouldn’t be standing here if that wasn’t true.” Her attention dropped to his mouth, as though Lettie was thinking of closing that short distance between them, and then it was all Rome could think about.
She’d gone on dates since he’d served her the divorce papers—potentially marked those men as targets of a sadistic killer—but there wasn’t an ounce of jealousy in his body. Who wouldn’t want the woman standing mere inches from him?
There was still so much they needed to work out, and a lot of reasons why getting pulled back into her orbit was a bad idea, but he couldn’t think about any of that right now. “Screw it.”
Rome crushed his mouth to hers.