Disappear. Kay David
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He pointed to the couch. “Sit down.”
Surprising him, she followed his command.
“You can’t see them.” He held her eyes in the darkness, his words slicing through the moment with the sharpness of a razor held to a throat. “They’re dead.” He waited a second. “They’re gone. All of them.”
She blinked against the pronouncement, her expression a study of misunderstanding. “I don’t…” She shook her head slightly, her hair gleaming against the chenille upholstery of the sofa. She licked her lips and started over. “What do you mean, they’re ‘gone’? They can’t just be ‘gone.’ They have to be somewhere—”
Gabriel wasn’t sure why he moved to take her hand, but he did. Sitting down beside her, he reached out. Whatever his reason had been, though, it didn’t matter. She snatched her fingers away before he could touch her. He spoke quietly. “The shooter killed them.”
Unable to speak, she shook her head again, her fingers now spread across her open mouth.
“He couldn’t leave anyone who might testify against him later.”
“But Toby…Mother…”
“They were waiting for your father and saw what happened. The killer saw them, too.”
Her eyes deepened to a darker color, denial her only defense. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “No. This…this can’t be happening. I—I don’t believe you…”
Reaching inside the pocket of his jacket, Gabriel pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the flap.
A moment later, she looked up from the wedding bands, her eyes so similar to her father’s, they threw Gabriel for a moment. “Th-this doesn’t prove anything. Y-you could have stolen them, for all I know.”
“I didn’t steal the rings. I had them with me because I was going to mail them to you later.” He paused. “I assumed your mother would have wanted you to have them.”
The girl’s reaction was a living thing; it sucked the air from the room and then from him. Gabriel fought the sensation and overcame it, but not without a struggle, which surprised him. He puzzled for a moment over why. Maybe it was the way she looked or maybe her youth. Either way, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.
“We have to leave.” He glanced at his watch then stood. Looking down at her, he came as close to the truth as he had all night. “The man your father saw—he’s associated with some very bad people. If they figure out you exist, they’re going to come after you, too. They won’t quit until they find you, and after they’ve used you up, they’ll kill you. If I can get you out of Los Lobos quickly enough and under some kind of protection, that might not happen.” He paused. “Emphasis on ‘might.’”
Alexis stared at him, her gaze so pointed it made him uneasy. “That doesn’t make sense. If my family was killed because they witnessed a murder, why would the killer—or anyone associated with him—come after me? I didn’t see anything.”
Gabriel wasn’t surprised she could analyze the situation while mired in grief. Robert had told him the truth.
“It doesn’t make sense,” she insisted.
“Of course it doesn’t make sense.” Gabriel made his voice harsh. “Do you think the baby could identify him?” He didn’t wait for her reply because he wasn’t going to get one—he’d shocked her, and that was exactly why he’d spoken as he had. “This man is a killer. He enjoys it. The people he surrounds himself with enjoy it, too. Killing is entertainment for them.”
Devastated by his words, she sat on the sofa, stunned and silent. The expression on her face made Gabriel feel ill but he ignored the sensation. “If you hadn’t shown up, this might not have been a problem, but you did, so now we have to deal with it. That’s why I’m here.”
Without waiting for her to reply, Gabriel moved toward the window. A car moved slowly down the street. Relatives looking for a holiday gathering or something else? His jaw tensed and the rest of his body followed. He turned away from the glass, a new urgency coming into his voice. “Get up and get ready. It’s time to leave.”
The speed of her movement took him so off guard, he automatically reached behind him, toward the .38. She flew at him, her hands clawing at his face.
“You’re lying to me!” she screamed. “You did something to them yourself! You’re the one who killed them!”
He gripped her arms and forced them down, slapping his fingers over her mouth to cut off her words before they had the chance to go any further. Above his hand, her eyes were huge.
“I did not kill your family,” he growled. “Why would I stick around here and wait for you to show up then tell you what I’d done? Does that even sound remotely logical?”
Instead of answering, she tried again to scream. He squeezed her jaw with the barest of force, shaking her slightly. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned. “You don’t want to make problems for me. Do you understand?”
Her body trembled, vibrated, in fact, like a string on a violin that had been drawn too roughly. Finally she blinked, then blinked again. He took that for a reply, but he didn’t remove his hand as he spoke.
“Problems for me mean problems for you. You do not—I repeat—do not want anyone to know you even came here tonight. Your flight records have already been erased and the car you came in is gone. I had it moved the minute you stepped inside here.” He took a deep breath, her scent reaching him before he could ignore it. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
This time he did ease his fingers, but he didn’t take away his hand. She started to speak, her mouth moving against the inside of his palm, sending a sensation into his gut.
“I called the police—”
“No, you didn’t,” he said.
It took her a stunned second to understand. “But I went to the center. I talked to the guard—”
He removed his hand, but kept his grip on her arm. “He’s been taken care of. Did you talk to anyone else, see anyone?”
“No…I…” She looked dazed, almost as if she was slipping into shock, her touch with reality slipping as well. “Ju-just the neighbors…” she said with distraction.
“They’ve been dealt with, too.” Locking his stare on hers, he spoke again. “Now all we have to do is take care of you…”
NUMB WITH DISBELIEF, Alexis watched the man gather up her things. He worked quickly and efficiently—he’d done this kind of thing before. Glancing into the dining room from the living room where she stood, she saw that he’d already removed the extra place setting from the table. If she bothered to look, she was sure she’d see that the linens in her bedroom were back in the closet as well. Within moments, he was finished. Glancing down at her watch, she was shocked by how quickly the minutes passed since she’d come back into the house.
He walked into the kitchen. She lifted her eyes to his face but she already had the details memorized; she could live to be a hundred and she’d never forget what he looked like. Wolfish eyes and thick black hair. Broad shoulders and a muscular body. A square jaw. A cruel mouth.
Cold. Stony. Callous.
His voice was clipped, his demeanor unreadable. Alexis had a fine ear for languages and she’d recognized the barest hint of an accent, something British, maybe Irish.
“It’s time.” The burr sounded again. “Let’s go.”
“Where—”
“Where doesn’t matter!” Until this point, his total calm had been almost eerie, his attitude colder than she could comprehend. Now she heard frustration, got a hint