“Sweetheart.”
Sam was in the chair across from the bed like always when she had her nightmares, but she didn’t even look at him. Truthfully, she didn’t even see him. She didn’t notice the freezing floor under the bare soles of her feet, or that Bailey scrambled to a standing position in his crate. She just ran from the room, heart thundering wildly in her ears. The back of the house was dark and she hadn’t thought to bring a light. She stood in front of the back door leading to her mudroom— the same room someone had tried to break into the night Bailey had been attacked.
“Stella. Talk to me.” Sam came up behind her.
She stood in front of the door shivering, but not because of the cold. She was numb— unable to feel anything in that moment. She just stared at the closed door. She didn’t want to turn on the overhead lights. If she did, and the killer was watching, he would know she was onto him. She bit her lip. She still couldn’t bring herself to say his name. To let herself think it was him. Her friend. One of her best friends. Why? Why would he start killing? It didn’t even make sense.
She put her hand on the doorknob and started to twist it open. Sam placed his palm above her head and leaned, preventing the heavy door from moving.
“Talk to me, Stella.”
“You knew it was him, didn’t you?” She was afraid it came out an accusation.
“I had no way of knowing, but I became suspicious when Bailey was stabbed four times so viciously and not killed. It took nerves to do what the attacker did. Nerves. Strength. Knowledge of anatomy. And then, it was a small thing, but Denver had suddenly taken an internship with the ME. He claimed he was restless. And because of your nightmares, Vienna pointed out the strange coincidence of the broken fingers to the sheriff and the ME. Denver lost interest after that. I think he wanted to be the one to point it out and get the glory. It nagged at me. He was already into so many things, so why go there? And then to just kind of drop it.”
“You didn’t say anything,” she persisted.
“I had no real proof and I didn’t want the killer to be Denver. I don’t have many friends, Stella. Denver matters to me. So, no, I didn’t know, but he had all the right abilities and he was in the right place at the right times.”
He sighed again. “And then there were the times the watcher wasn’t present. Vienna was exhausted the other day. She mentioned that there was an accident two nights in a row and the third night she’d just slept. I realized that if she was in surgery, they would need an anesthesiologist, and that meant Denver. If he was at the hospital, he couldn’t be here. I checked. He was there. I checked back on the other days in town when you said no one had been watching, and again, out here, and he was at the hospital every single time.”
“He came to the vet’s the night Bailey was attacked.”
“He came late, and none of us saw the condition of his arm,” Sam pointed out.
“You never said anything to me.” She held herself away from him, whispering, and this time it was an accusation. “Why not, Sam?”
“Yesterday, when we went out to the Twin Devils and Jason and Denver were climbing together, you thought at first that Jason was the killer, didn’t you?” he countered, stepping closer. Not answering her. Sam. Her heart hurt for him. For both of them.
Stella could feel him radiating heat against her back. She nodded but didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes on the door to the mudroom. Kept looking at Sam’s hand, fingers splayed wide, holding the door closed. Pandora’s box. If she opened it …
“Yes,” she whispered. “Then Jason started talking about how he had been working on the project for months and Denver offered to belay him, and I looked at Denver. Into his eyes. I knew. He went out there to kill Jason. He was going to kill him and make it look as though Jason had gone out there to work his project alone with just a fixed rope. We got there and he didn’t have his chance.”
Sam very gently wrapped his palm around the nape of her neck. “You didn’t want to talk to me about it last night.”
He had left early in the evening for several hours, and when he came back, he hadn’t said a word and she hadn’t asked him any questions. She was terrified of what he might have done, but now, after her nightmare, she knew Denver was still alive.
“You were quiet all the way home, and every time I tried, you just shook your head. I had to give you your space to grieve, Stella.”