Page 96 of The Wicked

“Not all of them, but some do. It’s just a case of finding a willing partner whose desires align with yours.”

“Saralisa?”

“She’s perfect in every way. We slotted so neatly into each other’s lives, and I can’t imagine a future without her. I don’t want to.”

“You screwed up epically. You and Dad might get off on tying women up, but Mandell gets off on control. He’s a manipulative psychopath who enjoys toying with people. It’s like a game to him.”

“We’re going to beat him.”

“How?” Her eyes widened as she read my mind. “Oh, shit. Garrett, promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’ve already lost my freedom; I don’t want to lose my brother too.”

“Somebody has to stop him.”

“Not like that. Not the way you’re thinking of doing it.”

“He deserves a shallow grave.”

“There has to be another way. And if you’re in jail, how will you win Saralisa back?”

Those two women were the only thing that stopped me from grabbing a gun right now. I lumbered to my feet and began pacing—wonkily—because Gracie was right. If Mandell was playing a game, then sacrificing my freedom would be another victory for him. That had to be a last resort.

When I put my anger aside and looked at the problem objectively, there were a few points we might be able to turn to our advantage. Firstly, I’d put a dent in Mandell’s plans last night when I took out his man. Secondly, the corpse at the pool house was yet to be identified, and it was possible the cops would find a link to the congressman. Or Harless, seeing as he was the man who liked to get his hands dirty. And thirdly, Mandell didn’t know how much we already knew. He had come after Saralisa, probably because whomever Carson Broad foolishly delegated the DC investigation to had screwed up, but he had no idea she’d fingered Harless as the man who’d killed her parents. He was just tying up loose ends.

“Will you come to Oregon with me?” I asked Gracie. “I don’t mean stay at home or even in Roseburg, but I could really do with someone in my corner.”

“I’ll come,” she said softly. “But if I see Mandell, I’m the one who’s gonna end up in jail.”

33

SARA

Day three post-Garrett, and my heart ached every bit as much as when he’d torn it in half in the early hours of Sunday morning. I’d spent yesterday with Brooke, alternately crying and cuddling her dog, but today, I’d come to the craft store. Mindlessly stacking yarn on the shelves was better than being alone with my thoughts, and it wasn’t as if anyone could shoot me now, not with the three stooges sitting outside in their shiny black SUV.

Darla had flown back from Virginia yesterday, and I was grateful she was working today’s shift rather than Paulo. I adored him, but I’d had enough drama for one week. Darla’s quiet calm was exactly what I needed. Nothing seemed to faze her.

“Should we take those gentlemen in the car some coffee, hun?” she asked. “Or do they bring their own?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.”

“I’d better go ask. It’s only polite.”

“Darla, when you were living at The Lookout, do you remember anybody moving things out of the attic?”

“Can’t say I recall. Why do you ask?”

“I think my mom left something there for me, but I didn’t realise until now, and we couldn’t find it when we went to look.”

“What did she leave?”

“That’s the problem; I have no idea.”

“I’m sure if there was anything valuable up there, Marianna would have found it and sold it after your grandpa died.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

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