Page 142 of Stormswept Colorado

“We’re here,” he said. “Climb out.”

I did what he asked, eager to be out of the dark and the stale air of the trunk. My bare feet hit the gravel. Ouch. “Where are we? Is this your house?”

He shook his head. “It’s somewhere safe. Don’t run. There’s nowhere for you to go.”

I tried for a smile. “But you said you don’t want to hurt me.”

“I don’t. I’m not stupid, though. You can’t trick me, okay?” His voice wavered, a contrast to his words.

Unlike Teller’s home in the woods, this place was in a valley with open meadows of grass all around. No other buildings in sight. The home itself was a classic farmhouse style. Cream-colored siding, a large porch. It looked deserted.

A huge blotch of red spray paint marred the side of the house, like a wound. A looping abstract flower.

I turned back to my kidnapper, studying his features. Was I right? Was this really the boy I remembered from all those years ago?

I had one play. Should I use it now? Or wait until I was alone in that house with him? Then again, the thought of going inside with him had me nauseous. I had no idea what he wanted from me.

“I know who you are,” I said softly. “Jarod.”

His eyes shone, the gun sagging in his grip. “You…you remember?”

“I do now.”

The boy next door who I used to babysit. I hadn’t seen him since he was twelve years old. Had barely even thought of him.

I saw the resemblance now. Jarod reminded me of his father, Sergeant Carpenter, but with features I’d once believed were innocent and kind.

So carefully, I took a step toward him. Tears pressed at my throat, welled in my eyes. “Jarod, I don’t understand any of this. Whatever it’s about, we can figure it out. Please. We can talk. But you have to put down the?—”

“No.” He raised the gun, aiming it at my chest. “I’ll tell you everything. But only after we go inside.”

Dammit. I really had no choice.

He gestured for me to go first. I walked toward the house. My eyes stuck on the spray-painted flower. “Did you do that, Jarod? The graffiti? Thevandalisms?”

“You know about that?” He scoffed. “Of course you do.Hetold you, didn’t he? The chief.”

“Jarod, why would you do it? You scared people.” I tried to keep my tone steady and mildly disappointed, like I was still his babysitter, and he’d simply broken a house rule. Like I hadn’t seen him murder Paul right in front of me a half hour ago.

“They weren’t safe on their own, Ayla. I had to show them how easily someone awful could come and hurt them.”

Someone as awful as you?I wanted to say. But I couldn’t risk making him angry.

“You mean the women?” I asked. “They were home alone, so they weren’t safe?”

“Like you were alone back on the base when we were kids. Of all people, you should understand what I was trying to do.”

I wanted to scream at him. Tell him this was all madness. But he had a gun pointed at my back.

I led the way inside the house.

The interior was warm, lovingly cared-for. There were baby bottles on the drying rack by the sink, a high chair at the kitchen table. A family lived here. But from the lack of any other cars outside, it seemed like they’d left. Or…oh, please tell me Jarod didn’t hurt them. I hoped they’d left because of the vandalism.

“Keep going,” Jarod said. “The door up there on the left.”

I reached the door. Opened it. A rough wooden staircase led down into darkness. Stark walls. An unfinished basement.

“No,” I whispered. “Not down there.”

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