Page 55 of The White Picket Fence

That Kevin Hale intended to kill Kayla Lewis was a given, but she’d try to give the cops a little time to save the girl.And me, too.

Please save me, too.

She started walking toward the Target, nervously watching for Kevin Hale. There were cops here somewhere, too. At least Lieutenant Lawrence had promised there would be.

She’d crossed three-quarters of the parking lot when a black minivan pulled into the space she’d just walked through. The driver’s window rolled down, revealing a smiling Kevin Hale.

Charlotte’s stomach revolted, making her wish she hadn’t eaten breakfast. But she put on her best face and smiled back at him. “Hi. Long time no see.”

He tilted his head toward the passenger side. “Get in,” he said, his voice lower in pitch than she remembered, but he was still soft-spoken. The quiet manner was odd, coming out of a man who’d killed and hurt so many people.

Fighting the urge to look around for Lieutenant Lawrence’s people, she did as he said. She did glance in the back, hoping to find Kayla there, but the back was empty.

“Kayla?” she asked.

His gaze slid down from her face to her chest. “Why are you so afraid?”

She realized she’d pressed her palm to her beating heart, then decided not to lie. “You have a girl I care about tied up. I know she’s scared.”

“She’ll be fine.” He skewered her with a look. “As long as you didn’t call the cops. Did you?”

“No,” she lied. “You told me not to, so I didn’t.”

“Good.” He put the minivan in gear and drove out of the parking lot, making his way back to the busy street. He gave her another up-and-down perusal. “You look good, Charlie.”

“I’m old,” she murmured. “Forty-two.” She felt ninety.

“I’m only a year younger.” His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Why didn’t you write me from college? You said you would.”

She had? She didn’t remember that. But it seemed like Kevin Hale remembered everything. “I’m sorry. My parents were getting divorced. Everything kind of...” She shrugged. “It was hard. I kind of closed in on myself.”

Which wasn’t exactly true. She’d suspected the divorce was coming and had felt that her parents would be happier not being married to each other. She’d felt the loss, sure, but there had been far more relief.

“I suppose,” he said.

“How are your parents?” she asked, trying to get a read on the man who’d killed and maimed to find her.

He’s insane,was her first conclusion. Which was true, but that didn’t help her understand what he’d do next.

“Dead,” he said shortly.

She wondered if he’d killed them. “How?”

His jaw tightened and he stared at the road, continuing to glance up to the rearview mirror, presumably to watch for anyone following them.

Charlotte hoped that Lawrence’s people were good at evading detection.

“Dad drank himself to death while I did my first nine,” he said. “Mom took pills while I was inside the second time. She left the house to me.”

Play the game. Keep it up long enough for Philly PD to find me.“Our house?”

He shook his head. “No, the house I grew up in. I sold it and used the money to buy our house. I didn’t want the old house anymore. Bad memories. Dad was a bastard who liked to hit. That’s why I always wore long sleeves to school, even when it was hot outside. I had bruises.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. And she was. “I wish I’d known. I would have tried to help you.”

“Didn’t want anyone to know. Hated them both. Didn’t want you to hate me because of my folks.”

Play the game.“I wouldn’t have,” she said softly.

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