Page 35 of One Night Years Ago

“Yeah, neither do I.”

They sat there, looking at each other, the scene incredibly domestic until he pointed at the manila envelope on the table . “Is that from Lanie’s case?” He seemed to have lost all interest in chewing.

She remembered she’d shown him the pictures, tried to get him to confess.

“I’ll put them away,” she said.

“How did she die?”

I really shouldn’t be talking about this.

“She was strangled.”

“Why kill her? He’d already gotten what he wanted.” He stood up abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s alright. I know what you mean. I’ve been thinking about that too. One possibility is it’s not the same man. But I have a feeling it is, though I can’t prove it yet. If it is the same man, then it’s likely he’s grown angrier over time, and his anger is escalating. Strangulation is a very personal death. It’s almost as if the sexual violence isn’t enough for him anymore.”

Hunter put the half-eaten pizza down on his plate and pushed it away.

“I don’t like violence,” he said.

“Is that why you let my father and his friends beat you half to death yesterday?”

He grinned ruefully. The dimples appeared again. “I wasn’t about to fight men who’ve lost so much. Besides, each of them could have been my father.”

She felt a warmth pooling deep inside her, something she hadn’t felt in years.

She got up suddenly, thinking that if she stayed one more minute in the kitchen she’d end up kissing him.

“I’ll show you to the guest bedroom,” she said.

“I thought I was going to sleep on the couch.”

“You’re too tall. It’s fine. Come with me.”

She led him to the smaller guest bedroom at the back at the house. It was stark white, decorated with seashells in muted greens and gray. The only furniture was a large four-poster bed with a beautiful barred metal headboard, a single night table, and an old armchair.

He stared at the bed, looking unconvinced.

“The bed’s an antique but the mattress is new. Goodnight, Hunter.”

He sat down gently on the bed. She was glad to see it didn’t sag as he did so.

“Goodnight, Natalie. Thank you.”

She walked upstairs, past the bathroom to the master bedroom, thinking she liked the way he said her name and that she should probably have offered him a towel and a toothbrush.

Chapter 15

Hunter

Before going to prison, World War III could have broken out beside him and he wouldn’t have known. But in the last twelve years, he’d learned to sleep lightly. Which is why he woke up long before Natalie even made it down the stairs.

His body faced the wall opposite the door, but he felt the light breeze as she opened his door. He kept his breathing nice and steady.

“Hunter?” she whispered. He considered faking sleep, but there was too much anguish in those two syllables. He turned around to look at her silhouette in the dark. She was still completely dressed.

“Is everything okay?”