Page 17 of Fallen Creed

“Are you suggesting I’m lying to you?”

“No, I’m not suggesting it. I’m stating it outright.”

Creed had never heard a woman huff and puff quite the way Nora Spencer did. It defied any attempt she had made at being addressed as a victim or a victim’s advocate.

“What’s going on?” Sheriff Spencer hurried over. Face still beet-red, his eyes pinned down on his wife like he had had enough. “Nora, you need to go on home. Now.”

“Ted, this man’s dog may be able to track where Libby went.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

Creed thought it looked like Spencer wanted to take her by the arm and lead her away, but there was a hesitancy that made him realize Spencer didn’t dare. Perhaps she was used to getting her way with him, too.

Suddenly, she turned to Creed and took a step forward so they were practically toe to toe. She craned her neck back to look up at him and said, “Libby tried to kill herself six months ago. I’m worried she may have gone off to try it again. Please, it might not be too late.”

—14—

Lincoln, Nebraska

David Ruben liked the way people looked at him when he walked in with two pretty young women. He was used to having three instead of two, but it hardly mattered. He still enjoyed the looks the men gave him. There was a tinge of envy but also admiration. He could almost read their minds: How did that old guy get two girls?

Women paid little attention. Maybe they were used to older men with younger women. He knew that some of them assumed he was the girls’ dad or uncle. Ruben didn’t mind. Nope. Didn’t mind at all.

Years ago, just the idea of other men thinking he was screwing these young girls would have been enough to give him a hard-on. These days, it required a more sophisticated blend of ingredients.

Lately, sex didn’t even interest him. Controlling these young things gave him a rush more intense than anything he’d experienced with sex. Pushing them to new limits and watching to see what they were capable of doing. That was intoxicating. And he never had to raise his hand or his voice. He just needed to know how to pull their strings, how to goad them, how to unite them, only to turn them against each other. The latter seemed to be the most powerful.

The hostess led them to a booth. Two days ago, they had a table in the corner, but the booth was much cozier. She handed them each a menu, but her eyes stayed with Ruben. She looked older than his girls and a bit worn, but much too young for the name on her hostess badge.

“So Rita, what’s your favorite thing on the menu?” he asked her.

“You can never go wrong with one of the burgers, but if it was me, I’d probably order the steak fajitas.”

“Ah, spicy. That’s right up my alley.” He was pleased with the blush the attention produced. He was right. Rita was younger than she looked.

He ignored Vanessa. Her back was to Rita, so she dared to be so bold as to roll her eyes at him. Vanessa had been with him the longest for the last six months. Everyone knew she was his favorite. She could get away with behaviors the others wouldn’t think of risking. They thought Vanessa was their confidant, their protector...until she wasn’t.

“Dylan will be your server today,” Rita told them now while pretending to be distracted by new customers waiting for her back at the hostess stand.

Ruben watched her hurry away. That’s when he saw Shelby’s eyes darting around. He raised his menu, pretending he didn’t notice her flicker of panic. A young waiter approached their booth, and Ruben knew immediately the boy-man was the cause of Shelby’s discomfort. The girl was so transparent. She was practically squirming in her seat.

“Hey, I’m Dylan. I’ll be your waiter.”

Ruben watched for the glint of recognition in Dylan’s eyes when he noticed Shelby.

There it was.

He smiled at her a bit too long, although she was trying her best to hide her face in the oversized menu.

“Hello, Dylan,” Ruben said. “I think we need a few minutes to decide.”

“Oh sure.”

“Maybe you could bring us some iced tea.”

“Absolutely.”

Ruben had to admit Dylan was cute. The head of curly black hair bobbed. He swatted it out of his eyes, but it was obviously his signature feature. It had to be, because he was short and skinny with a flat butt. Other than the hair and a dimpled smile, he seemed quite ordinary. Hardly worth the effort, and certainly not worth the punishment.