Chapter 4
FOUR
His breath blew hot down the back of my neck. His lips brushed my ear. I shivered, waiting for the kiss. Instead, velvety blackness enveloped me. I took a breath, but couldn’t let it out. Instead, strong hands pulled me down into inky darkness so thick I choked on it.
No air. No light.
“No!” I screamed. I felt my lips moving. Felt my throat constrict, but no words came out.
“Don’t make a sound,” came the whisper. It was everywhere and nowhere. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you ever leave me. I’ll make you disappear.”
I’ll make you disappear.
“Mina!”
Air stabbed my lungs as I sucked in a breath. I didn’t know where I was. Then sunlight hit my eyes, nearly blinding me.
“Mina!” Lock shouted again. He was on his knees in front of me, eyes wild, hair sticking out. He shook me hard, keeping a steel grip on my shoulders.
“Mina,” he said my name again, softer. “Baby. Open your eyes. Breathe.”
I shook my head to clear it. Lock’s grip on my shoulders loosened. He sat beside me on the bed. Sweat glued my cotton nightshirt to me.
Lock went quiet. He rubbed the back of my neck, pulling my hair away from my shoulders, helping me to cool off.
“You’re safe,” he said.
“What time is it?” I asked, my throat dry as sandpaper.
Lock reached for the water bottle on my nightstand and handed it to me, unscrewing the cap. I took a long, slow drink. With shaking hands, I gave it back to him.
“Was it the same one?” he asked. “Do you want to tell me?”
Feeling self-conscious, I tried to move out of his touch and get off the bed. The wounded look on his face stopped me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t remember.”
“You were screaming for them,” he said. “Baby, you’re safe. Look.”
He pointed to the corner of the ceiling, toward the reassuring green glow of the carbon monoxide detector. There was another one just like it out in the hallway. I hadn’t asked him to put those in. But he’d done it anyway, the morning after waking me from the first night terror I had in this house.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
He smiled gently. “Don’t. Never do that, okay? Didn’t we both make that promise?”
It felt so silly. My trauma was nothing compared to what Lock had endured. I’d never been abused. Never been betrayed by the people who were supposed to love me the most.
“But I scared you,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Mina,” he said gently. “You can’t control your dreams. And you can’t go through what you went through unscathed.”
He let go this time when I rose from the bed. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost ten,” he said.
My heart skipped. “You should have woken me.”
Lock smiled as he leaned back on his elbows, watching me as I peeled off my sticky shirt and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the shower jets and quickly brushed my teeth. A moment later, Lock joined me in the bathroom.
“If I knew what you were dreaming about, I would have woken you. Promise,” he said.
The steam came quickly. I grabbed a hand towel and wiped off the mirror.
Lock stood behind me in a pair of boxer shorts.
He’d already showered. He would have woken by at least five to get his workout in.
I could never manage it that early. But by five thirty every single morning, Lock would be in the fitness room down the hall, sticking to his punishing weight-lifting or stair-stepper regimen.
In the time I’d known him, he’d never missed a day.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
I turned to him. “I’m fine. Really.”
His face darkened. “Mina, you haven’t had a nightmare like that in months. And you only have them when something stresses you out. The only new thing going on right now is this task force you’re on. Did something happen yesterday?”
Lock missed nothing. It seemed so strange to me at times that a little over two years ago, I didn’t know this man.
Now, we were both so in tune with each other’s moods.
Our facial expressions. Tones of voices.
Those little “tells” we both had that showed what we were thinking.
For Lock, he’d start to pull at his hair, dragging a hand through it like a rake.
Or he’d stare off in the distance, not hearing so much as a freight train if it were right beside his head.
Or he would go out to the garden like he did the other night, curling into himself.
I wasn’t like that. Since I was twenty years old, I thought I had pulled off stoicism.
Hid my inner thoughts. And I did, with everyone but Lock.
Only he knew the truth of my own very worst day.
That morning, when I was nineteen years old and so far away from home for the first time.
I had just come back to my dorm room from my nine o’clock sociology exam. Campus police were outside my door.
I kissed him. I became aware of my nudity as he pressed against me. I wanted him, as I always did. But I found myself unable to answer his very simple question. Did something happen yesterday?
“Just give me a few minutes,” I said. “I just need to clear my head. I’ll be down soon. Did you eat without me?”
He kissed my forehead. “I saved you some eggs. I had beignets delivered.”
I smiled. “I’ll get powdered sugar all over me.” He gave me a sinful smirk. But he respected my boundaries and left me to shower alone.
When I came downstairs, Lock sat at the breakfast nook reading a newspaper. He was a throwback in that way, having it delivered every morning. He liked to read it with his morning coffee, which we drank by the pot.
He folded the paper and poured me a cup. Despite my protests about the sugar, I devoured one of the beignets. The bakery on the boardwalk made them to rival New Orleans’ Cafe Du Monde.
“So,” he said, once I finished my pastry. “I won’t push you. But I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“The task force? There isn’t much I can talk about. You knew that was going to be the deal.”
“You don’t have to tell me any details. But you can tell me if they got to you. Just like every other case you’ve ever tried.”
“I know. And really, there isn’t much to tell on this yet, even if I could. We’re just starting to look at our first case. Cases.”
Lock smiled. “Are the boys being nice to you?”
This got the laugh out of me Lock intended. “Nobody’s bullied me on the playground yet,” I said. “They’re decent guys, I think. They seem to respect Roy, and Roy respects me. I’m not worried.”
“They’re lucky to have you,” he said. He had a bit of powdered sugar on his chin. I reached for him, brushing it away with my thumb. I ran my fingers along his strong jaw. The image of Amy Pasko’s police sketch swam in front of me. Just as quickly, I shook it away.
I was just stressed about the task force.
The stakes were high. Three missing women.
We couldn’t get this wrong. I knew full well that if we couldn’t find out what happened to them, there would be no justice.
Roy Dennison’s choice to put me in front of this thing could be a blessing or a curse.
Sure, I could take partial credit for its success, but I could be a convenient scapegoat if we failed, since this was the most public piece of work I’d ever had my name attached to.
“You won’t lose,” Lock said. “And it’s not on you to solve any of those cases. You’re not a cop. It’s not your job.”
“How’d you get to be so smart?” I teased.
His serious expression didn’t waver. He knew that I was trying to deflect with humor. But he didn’t press me further.
“What about you?” I asked. “Have you made your final decision about the scholarships?”
Lock took a last swig of coffee. “Pretty much. But I’m hoping to expand the recipients this year. I’ve got five equally fantastic candidates.”
This got a real smile out of me. The Manning Foundation had started off awarding one full-ride scholarship each year. Lock steadily increased the number of recipients.
“Are you going to show me the list?”
“Are you sure you have time for that?”
“Of course,” I said, putting my hand over his.
“I don’t want to add more to your plate. The gala isn’t for a few weeks yet. I just need some input, and Eli’s opinions are always out of the box.”
Eli Shepherd was Lock’s best friend. They’d known each other since college.
A few years ago, Lock put Eli on salary and appointed him to a seat on the foundation’s board and fundraiser planning committee.
Though he wouldn’t openly admit it, Lock had done that out of a sense of obligation and charity.
Eli previously ran his own software company and had gotten into some financial difficulty. It was supposed to be a secret.
“I’m here for whatever you need,” I said.
Lock beamed. “Good. Will you come in with me tomorrow? Eli and I are supposed to meet with the caterer and finalize the menu for the gala. I value your input more than his. Just don’t tell him that.”
I went quiet. Eli had a bravado that turned most people off, including me in the beginning.
But he loved Lock too, so I looked past it.
Over time, I could start to see some of the things that endeared him to Lock.
He was loyal. Since he’d joined the foundation full-time, he’d taken a lot of the heat away from Lock when other members of the board questioned Lock’s decisions.
He and Lock might argue in private, but to the rest of the world, Eli was his ride or die.
His wife Piper, on the other hand, seemed to openly resent me.
I never quite knew why. Perhaps she was just used to being the “girl” in their group of three.
Or perhaps she resented having to rely on Lock’s goodwill for keeping her husband employed.
“Are you okay with that?” he said. “I wouldn’t ask. But I trust your judgment and your taste. I just want everything to be perfect this year.”
“How does Eli feel about that? You don’t think it’ll make him feel like a third wheel? He’s employed by the foundation. I’m not.”
Lock frowned. “Eli can handle it. He knows you’re amazing. We’re meeting in my office tomorrow. It shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
He leaned over and kissed me, then folded his paper again and started to rise. “Gotta go,” he said.
“It’s Saturday!”
“Just for a little while. I’ll be back before lunch. Just have a few loose ends I left at the office.”
Before I could press him further, Lock grabbed his jacket off the hook by the door and walked out.
I sank back down into my chair. I’d hoped to have Lock to myself this weekend.
Plus, the truth was I was the one who sometimes felt like a third wheel around Eli and Lock.
He shared a familiarity with Lock, having known him all of his adult life.
His wife Piper never missed an opportunity to remind me that I was an outsider.
Before I had a chance to ruminate any further, my cell phone rang. I had it on the charger near the coffee maker. One of Lock’s rules. We never kept our cell phones next to the bed.
I went to it, reading Roy Dennison’s caller ID. “Hello?”
“Mina,” he said. “Didn’t want to bother you at home. But can you clear your schedule and meet with me Monday morning?”
“Did something happen?”
“No,” he said. “But I got a hold of Corrine Egan’s old police report. I’m reading through it now. Is Lock there with you?”
A strange question to ask.
“What? No, why?”
“Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupting you. Can you meet me first thing Monday?”
“Yes. My pre-trial got pushed to Tuesday afternoon.”
“Good,” he said. “Amy Pasko, the sister of the first missing woman. She’s agreed to come in and talk to us. Remember, she’s the only one who may have gotten a good look at our potential suspect.”
The composite sketch floated before me in my mind. Handsome. Dark, thick, wavy hair. Strong jaw. That shadow of a cleft in his chin. “Yes,” I heard myself say.
“Corrine’s statement is a lot more detailed than what she told us the other day. Which I suppose stands to reason since she gave it when events were fresher in her mind. There are some things in it I think you’ll want to see.”