He looked at his phone. Beneath the Gwynn fears, he felt something else. An unease he knew well--a sixth sense that Olivia was in trouble.
Was she?
Or was that an excuse for what he wanted to do?
His finger hovered over an app that tracked her phone.
She said no. That he was not to join her.
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But I'm worried.
She said--
Gabriel hit the button.
Ricky had installed tracking devices in all their phones after Gabriel and Olivia came far too close to dying of exposure after falling into a river. They hadn't agreed to use that app only in emergencies...because that went without saying. It was a matter of trust.
Was Gabriel breaking that trust now?
He honestly wasn't sure. That was the problem with living a life where trust had always been the one luxury he could not afford. While other people seemed to hopscotch easily through the landscape of relationships, he navigated it like a swamp, with quicksand and pythons and piranhas at every step.
He knew he should never use the app to keep tabs on her. That was obviously wrong. Nor would he ever use it to meet up with her, rather than texting to see whether she was free. It was only for emergencies, when he could not otherwise contact her and had reason for alarm.
Half of that applied now. Given what he'd learned about Heather, he had reason for alarm. Yet...well, he could contact her, couldn't he? But it wasn't in the way he needed to contact her--she was refusing to speak to him, and so he could not properly warn her. Did that make this an exception?
He believed he genuinely felt that sixth sense of concern, and yet he feared imagining it as an excuse to go to Olivia, to apologize and make things right. And if he was imagining it, then showing up and ignoring her explicit wishes would only upset her more.
He didn't know. When he tracked that signal and saw where she'd gone, though, he forgot the question entirely in a surge of exasperation and alarm.
Olivia was in a park. Not a playground safely within the city limits, but a picnic area five miles outside of it, one that would be closed past dark. It was already dusk.
The urge to text: What the hell are you doing? was nearly overwhelming. He might have, too, if he didn't know exactly what she was doing.
Meeting someone.
For the case, that is. The thought of Olivia meeting a lover for a tryst entered his head only as the fleeting notion that, for ordinary people, that was exactly why they'd go to a park past dark. Not Olivia. For her, this out-of-the-way spot suggested a covert encounter of the professional sort.
She must be meeting Heather Nansen there. The Nansens lived at that end of the city, and Olivia needed to discuss something in absolute privacy--completely ignoring his warnings. Yes, this was an excellent spot for a private meeting...and it was also an excellent spot to be murdered by a killer and have your body dragged into the nearby woods.
Gabriel pulled his car into an overgrown lane near the park. The Jag rolled down the rutted path, each jolt giving him one more thing to grumble about, along with the knowledge that if he did damage the vehicle, at least he could guarantee Olivia would regret one part of this escapade.
He also acknowledged the unfairness of his word choice. An escapade suggested Olivia routinely traipsed into danger unaware, needing rescue. Untrue. Or, at least, two-thirds of it was untrue. She was never unaware of the danger, and she didn't require rescue any more than he did. He would prefer to think he strode into danger, though. Traipsing was really more Olivia's style.
He walked through the forest to the park, hearing every slosh of his loafers on the muddy ground, feeling cold water seep in. With the full moon, he could see the picnic benches and pavilions but no sign of Olivia.
He cursed Ricky for not finding an app that more accurately pinpointed location. Again, unjust. The issue was the inadequacy of GPS in general. He knew Olivia was within a few hundred feet. Perhaps hiding in the shadows of the pavilion, awaiting Heather?
He took out his phone. The screen shone far too brightly, so he shielded it and then reread the text stream.
He should tell Olivia he was here. Admit wrongdoing and let her know he was nearby. Yes, I know you said to stay away, but I was concerned, and so I am here.
His fingers hovered over the keypad. Then a twig cracked in the park. Gabriel stepped forward...and his loafer stayed behind, stuck in the mud.
With a grunt of annoyance, he balanced on one foot, backing up to slide his foot into--
"Don't move."