Chapter Ten
Cal stood in the doorway of Raines’ office, Alena right beside him. The smell of cold pizza hung heavy in the room, the untouched box sagging on the sheriff’s desk. Raines paced with the phone pressed to his ear, his voice clipped as he gave updates to the fire department.
Across the room, an EMT crouched beside Melissa. She’d refused transport to the hospital, insisting she just needed to sit, so they’d brought her here instead. Cal wasn’t sure if that was stubbornness or fear, but either way, she looked fragile enough to crumble at a touch.
Her skin was chalk-pale, her hands trembling as she clutched the blanket the EMT had draped over her shoulders. Her eyes kept darting to the door, to the window, as if she expected Dexter or someone worse to come crashing through.
Cal’s chest tightened. They’d pulled her out of that trailer by seconds, maybe even less.
Melissa’s voice came in a hoarse whisper. “We were so close. We almost died in there.”
Cal exchanged a glance with Alena, then turned his attention back to Melissa. He needed answers, and he needed them fast.
Alena’s voice was low beside him. “She’s right. We barely made it.”
Cal gave a small nod, though his eyes stayed on Melissa. She was in no shape to be pressed, and like Alena, he wasn’t about to force answers out of her now.
Raines ended his call with a sharp click and set the phone down on the desk. He dragged a hand over his jaw, muttering, “Fire chief says the timer probably didn’t activate until the door latch moved.” His mouth tightened, and a string of profanity slipped out under his breath.
Cal caught the look in his eyes. Raines was replaying it, blaming himself for nearly setting it off.
“There’s no way you could’ve known,” Cal said, his voice steady. “The trap was meant to look ordinary. Anybody would’ve tried that door.”
Raines exhaled hard, pacing a step before stopping to brace both hands on the back of his chair. His shoulders stayed stiff, the weight of it hanging there.
Cal kept his focus calm, but inside he knew one thing for certain—whoever had set that trap wasn’t finished yet.
The EMT packed up his bag and stood. “Other than some bruising on her wrists and face, she seems okay. I still recommend she be checked out at the hospital.”
Melissa shook her head hard, clutching the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “No. I can’t. Hospitals… I can’t do that. After Dexter, they made me stay in one for a couple of nights. I still wake up sweating from those memories.”
Alena’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I understand.”
Cal glanced at her and knew she did. She’d spent her own nights in a hospital after the warehouse, broken and stitched together in ways that didn’t always show. And David… he’d spent far too many nights there too. The three of them carried scars that didn’t always bleed but never fully healed.
Melissa kept her eyes on the floor, her hands twisting in the blanket. “I just need to be anywhere else. Not there.”
Cal didn’t argue. He understood too well.
The EMT zipped his bag, gave Melissa a final nod, and slipped out. Raines shut the door behind him, the quiet stretching in his office.
He turned back toward her, his voice gentler now. “Can we get you anything? Something to make you more comfortable?”
Melissa shook her head, then glanced at the desk. “The pizza. Can I…?” Her voice cracked a little. “I haven’t eaten since they took me.”
Raines opened the box and slid it closer. “Help yourself.”
Melissa reached for a slice with trembling fingers, folding it in half before taking a bite.
Cal watched her chew, his thoughts tight. Most victims after that kind of ordeal couldn’t stomach food. But he reminded himself that didn’t mean Melissa wasn’t rattled to her core. Trauma hit people in different ways, and right now, food might be her way of grounding herself.
He stayed quiet, studying her as she swallowed and reached for another bite. The question wasn’t whether she was traumatized. It was what, if anything, she was hiding beneath it.
Melissa chewed slowly, her voice muffled around the food. “He grabbed me outside my place. Had a ski mask on. Tied my wrists and gagged me before I could scream. Drove me to that strip mall.”
She swallowed hard, blinking fast. “Another man showed up. Same thing, ski mask, same rough voice. Neither one of them was Dexter.”
Cal exchanged a quick glance with Alena, his jaw tightening.
Melissa pressed on. “But it had to be him. He must’ve hired them.”
Raines leaned forward, his elbows on his desk. “Did either of them say anything about Dexter?”
Melissa shook her head. “No. They didn’t mention him.” Her eyes darted between them, desperate. “But come on. It has to be Dexter, right? He hates me almost as much as I hate him. Who else would want me taken?”
Cal kept his expression even, though doubt churned at the back of his mind.
Melissa’s hand jerked, sending a bit of crust tumbling onto the blanket. “Wait. Was it Arneson? Did he do this? Is he the one who had me taken?”
The room went still, the weight of her question pressing down on all of them.
Raines’s tone stayed even, though his eyes narrowed slightly. “We don’t know yet who’s behind it. The strip mall’s still being searched for evidence, and what’s left of that travel trailer will be combed through, too.”
Cal leaned a little closer. “What about Kara? Do you think she could’ve hired those men?”
Melissa let out a sharp huff, the sound bitter. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Kara’s been all over me. She’s contacted me more times than I can count, telling me to back off on my posts about Dexter. She doesn’t like that I keep calling him out for what he is.”
Her hands curled tight around the slice of pizza. “And she had the gall to ask me to testify for him at his appeals hearing.”
Alena’s brows shot up, but Melissa pressed on before she could say anything. “She wanted me to say Dexter wasn’t of sound mind when he dragged me to that warehouse. That he wasn’t responsible.”
Melissa’s voice cracked, her face twisting with fury. “He’s not insane. He’s a bullying, controlling asshole, but he’s sane. And he knew exactly what he was doing.”
The room went quiet, the weight of her words hanging heavy.
Alena shifted in her chair, her voice careful. “Melissa, have you had any contact with Dexter this past year?”
Melissa froze, her fingers tightening around the water bottle. She took a long sip before setting it down. The half-eaten slice of pizza slid back into the box, forgotten. Her mouth drew into a tight line.
“I did,” she admitted after a moment. “Once. About four months ago. My therapist thought it might help me… face things.”
Cal felt his gut tighten, waiting.
Melissa’s eyes hardened. “It didn’t help. It was a disaster. I walked out of there convinced of one thing—if Dexter ever got out, he’d come for everyone who put him away.” Her gaze shifted to Alena, then to him. “That means me. That means the two of you as well.”
Cal’s chest tightened at her words, the warning settling heavy in his gut. “If Dexter wanted you dead, why not just kill you when he had the chance?” he came out and asked.
Melissa’s eyes flicked to him and then dropped to the blanket in her lap.
“Maybe because he wanted to do it himself and not leave it to one of his henchmen. Or maybe Dexter intended to use me somehow. As bait. Possibly to draw Alena and you out.” She slid glances at both of them.
“Maybe even use me somehow to try to get to David.”
The sound of his name dropped ice into Cal’s blood. He forced his face to stay unreadable, but his mind locked on the thought.
David.
There’d been others on the team who helped take Dexter down, but when it came to that night, the core had been Alena, David, and him. The three of them had carried the weight. They were the ones Dexter would never forgive.
Alena’s face had gone pale at Melissa’s words, her eyes clouded with the same memory that haunted him. Cal didn’t want her sitting through more of this. He cleared his throat. “Sheriff, why don’t Alena and I step out and let you get Melissa’s official statement?”
Raines gave a short nod. “Good idea.” He reached for his phone again. “I’ll have some more food brought in. Looks like we’ll be here a while.”
Cal checked his watch. It was nearly five. They’d been running on caffeine and adrenaline all damn day, and it showed. He touched Alena’s arm, guiding her toward the hall.
“Come on,” he said. “Breakroom’s this way. You need a breather.”
His plan was simple. Get her off her feet for five minutes, maybe get her to eat something, and remind her that Dexter wasn’t going to touch David. Not while Cal still had breath in his body.
But the moment they stepped out of Raines’s office, the front door swung open. Arneson strode in, his expression tight, his phone clutched in one hand as if he’d been mid-argument.
Alena stiffened beside him, and Cal felt his own pulse tick up. Timing, as always, had a way of turning bad.
Arneson’s gaze darted past Cal and Alena, landing on the open office door. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Melissa sitting inside with the blanket still around her shoulders.
“Did you see him?” Arneson demanded. “Did you see Dexter? Do you know where he is?”
Melissa lifted her chin, her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’d know that better than I would.”
Color flushed up Arneson’s neck. For a moment, Cal thought he might lose it, but instead Arneson turned on Raines, who was coming toward him.
“I’ve got proof,” Arneson insisted, his voice vibrating with raw urgency. “Proof that Kara’s the one who hired those men to grab Melissa. She’s been hounding Dexter, pushing him, driving him crazy, and I had to know why. So, I hired a PI to follow her.”
Arneson yanked his phone up, swiped a few times, then thrust the screen toward Raines. “There. Take a look.”
The photo was grainy, the colors muted, but the image spoke for itself. Alena leaned in, Cal at her side, and Raines bent closer over the screen. It was Kara, no doubt about it, passing a thick envelope to a man in a ball cap.
Cal’s stomach sank as his gaze locked on the man’s face. The cap shadowed part of it, but not enough to hide the truth.
Bryce Keller. Their dead attacker.