Criminal Behaviour. Amanda Stevens
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“You seem overly protective. I can appreciate your concern, but I’m not sure she would.”
Something flashed in Lepear’s eyes, a fleeting acknowledgment that Ethan had hit a little too close to the truth. “You could be right. Addie’s got a mind of her own, that’s for damn sure. The one thing I do know about her is this—she won’t be happy to see you.”
Ethan tamped down his annoyance. “You know her well enough to make that assessment?”
“We go back a long way. Ten years, to be precise. She’s not just my partner. She’s also a friend. And you’re the SOB who almost ended her career.”
Ethan was jolted by an uncomfortable truth. Lepear knew who he was.
Anger mingled with remorse. “I never meant to cause her trouble.”
“People like you never do. You just tell yourself the end justifies the means.”
Ethan waited a beat before he continued. He didn’t want to lose his temper. Lepear was defending his partner and friend. Ethan would do the same if the positions were reversed, but it wasn’t like he’d walked away from the relationship unscathed. It wasn’t like he’d gone back to Virginia and forgotten all about Adaline Kinsella. He’d spent many a sleepless night staring up at the ceiling, wanting to call just to hear her voice but knowing she would never pick up.
“I’m not looking for trouble now,” he said. “I just want to talk to her.”
Lepear gave him a derisive look before he finally acquiesced. “She’s out back. You can go through that door.” He nodded toward the crumbling archway. “But if I were you, I’d watch my step. I mean, I’d really watch my step, Agent Barrow.”
Their gazes held for a moment longer before Ethan nodded. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
* * *
ADDIE STOOD ON the back porch, staring at the mounds of dirt and empty graves where the remains had been excavated and removed. A broken wheelchair had been pushed up under the porch railing, and she couldn’t help but imagine Delmar Gainey sitting there alone in the dark, admiring his gruesome garden by moonlight. Another ramp had been built beside the back steps, and if Addie closed her eyes, she could see him out there among the graves, enjoying the mingled scents of jasmine and death wafting on the afternoon breeze.
She felt light-headed from the heat and from old memories, and she curled her fingers around the wood rail, clinging for a moment while she tried to beat back her emotions. She was no stranger to death. She’d lost her mother to a brutal killer and her grandmother to the gentler reaper of natural causes. As a cop, Addie had seen all manner of death and violence, but those empty graves reminded her of the thin veneer of humanity that could too easily be peeled away.
A sound brought her around with a start, and she felt a shudder go through her as her gaze connected with the man in the doorway. Tall and fit, he stood ramrod straight in his dark suit and tie, hardly more than a silhouette against the dim backdrop of the house.
“Ethan?” Even as she spoke his name, her chin came up in defiance. Before she could demand to know the purpose of his presence, she heard a crack, followed by a splintering sound as the rotting floorboards gave way beneath her feet. Her arms flailed wildly as she tried to catch her balance, but the wood disintegrated and she crashed through the porch.
She saw Ethan lunge for her, and then she saw nothing but blackness as she found herself in a free fall.
Addie reached out instinctively, grasping, grasping until she made contact with a rope. She grabbed on with both hands, halting her fall for only an instant before she dropped to the bottom. But that split second allowed her to brace for impact. She tucked and rolled.
Hot pain shot across her left shoulder as she lay still for a moment. Then she gingerly moved her arms and legs. No broken bones. She pushed herself off the floor and got to her feet. No cuts or other wounds that she could determine, but she was in complete darkness save for a thin tunnel of illumination that shone down through the fractured boards. The light seemed to quiver as if it had a life of its own. The sensation was eerie and disorienting. Addie reached out with one hand and made contact with the wall as she tilted her head to that shimmering light.
“Addie?”
Her eyes fluttered closed before she braced herself yet again. That voice. How many times had she dreamed of it in her ear, imagined his husky whisper in the dark? She shivered now as her name echoed off the walls like a taunt.
“Adaline, can you hear me?”
She peered up into the freaky light. “I can hear you.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay. No broken bones or cuts. Where am I?”
“I think you’ve fallen into an old well or cistern. The porch must have been built over it. Are you in water?”
She shivered again at the echo-like quality of his voice. “No, but the walls are damp. And it smells pretty bad down here. I wonder how far I fell. It looks a long way up there.”
“Hard to say. Fifteen, twenty feet maybe. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
“I grabbed on to a rope. Do you see it?”
“It looks badly frayed. I’m not sure it’s strong enough to haul you up.”
“Go find Matt. Matt Lepear. He’s my partner. He drove his truck out here today. He usually keeps a chain in the back for when he goes off-roading. Someone always gets stuck.”
“I’ll find him and we’ll get you out of there. Just hang tight until I get back.”
“Ethan?”
His face appeared back over the opening.
“Someone left a flashlight on the porch railing. I saw it a minute ago. Can you toss it down to me? It’s pitch-black and I think I hear rats.”
“I see it. I’ll tie it off and lower it down. Stand back in case the rope breaks.”
She stepped out of the light, allowing the darkness to swallow her. Furtive claws scratched nearby, and she could have sworn something scurried across her feet, but she hoped the sensation wasn’t real. She hoped her imagination was getting the better of her because the notion of rats closing in on her—
Ethan cut into her thoughts. “I’m lowering the light down now.”
He turned on the bulb so that Addie could track the beam. As the rope spun, the light bounced off the walls, casting giant shadows down into the well. Addie reached eagerly for the flashlight, slipping it free of the knot and then wrapping her fingers tightly around the thick rubber housing.
“I’ve got it,” she said. “Thanks.”
“No problem. I’ll be right back.”
“Ethan?”
“Yes?”
She ran the light up and down the walls and then over the floor, exploring debris that had been abandoned for decades.
“What is it?” he called down to her.
“There’s a lot of trash in here.” Her voice quivered in spite of her best efforts. “Old blankets. Broken dishes. I think this is where he kept them.”
Ethan said something, but she didn’t hear his response. She was too caught up in the horror of that place. Too distracted by the image of that wheelchair shoved up under the porch railing. How many times had Gainey rolled across the floorboards, aroused by his memories as he reveled in his secrets?
Addie angled the beam along the crevice where floor met wall.