Sanctuary

The words burned his throat like tears. “Don’t.”
    “When have I ever?” she said with a sigh. “Sam, I don’t know what to do for you, for any of you. I hate seeing the people I love hurt this way and not knowing how to give them ease.”
    “I can’t mourn for her the way I should, Kate. Twenty years is a long stretch. I’m not the same as I was when I lost her.”
    “You loved her.”
    “I always loved her, even when I thought the worst of her, I loved her. You remember how she was, Kate, so bright.”
    “I always envied her the way she would light up everything and everyone around her.”
    “A soft light’s got its own appeal.” He stared down at their joined hands and missed the shock that bolted into her eyes. “You always kept that light steady,” he said carefully. “She’d have been grateful for the way you mothered the children, looked after things. I should have told you before that I’m grateful.”
    “I started out doing it for her, and stayed for myself. And Sam, I don’t think Belle would have wanted you to grieve all over again. I never knew her to nurse a hurt or cling to a grudge. She wouldn’t have blamed a ten-year-old boy for what his father was.”
    “I’m cut in two on this, Kate. I’m remembering that when Belle went missing, David Delaney joined in the search for her.” He had to close his eyes as the rage rose up black again. “The son of a bitch walked this island with me. And all the while he’d done that to her. His wife came and got the children, took them back with her to mind all that day. I was grateful to him, God forgive me for that. I was grateful to him.”
    “He deceived you,” she said quietly. “He deceived his own family.”
    “He never missed a step. I can’t go back to that day, knowing what I know now, and make him pay for it.”
    “Will you make the son pay instead?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Sam, what if they’re right? What if someone wants to do to Jo what was done to Annabelle? We need to protect what we have left, to use whatever we have to protect what we have left. If I’m any judge, Nathan Delaney would step in front of a moving train to keep her safe.”
    “I can see to my own this time. I’m prepared this time.”
     
     
    THE edge of the woods on a moonless night was an excellent vantage point. But he hadn’t been able to resist creeping a little closer, using the dark to conceal his movements.
    It was so exciting to be this close to the house, to hear the old man’s words so clearly. It was all out now, and that was just another arousal. They thought they knew it all, understood it all. They probably believed they’d be safe in that foreknowledge.
    And they couldn’t be more wrong.
    He tapped the gun he’d tucked, combat-style, in his boot. He could use it now if he wanted, take both of them out. Like shooting ducks in a barrel. That would leave the two women alone in the house, since Brian had driven off in a stone-spitting fit of temper.
    He could have both of Annabelle’s daughters, one after the other, both at once. A delicious ménage à trois.
    Still, that would be a detour from the master plan. And the plan was serving him so well. Sticking to it would prove his discipline, his ability to conceive and execute. And if he wanted to duplicate the Annabelle experience, he would have to be patient just a little longer.
    But that didn’t mean he couldn’t stir things up a bit in the meantime. Scared rabbits, he mused, were so much easier to trap.
    He melted back into the trees and spent a pleasant hour contemplating the light in Jo’s window.

TWENTY-NINE
    K IRBY jogged along the beach, hugging her solitude. The sky to the east was wildly red, gloriously, violently vivid with sunrise. She supposed that if the old adage were true, sailors better take warning, but she could only think how beautiful the morning was with its furious sky and high, wild winds.
    Maybe they were in for a backslap from Carla after all, she thought, as her feet pounded the hard-packed sand. It might be exciting, and it would take Brian’s mind off his troubles for a little while.
    She wished she knew what to say to him, how to help him. All she’d been able to do when he’d roared into her cottage the night before was listen, as she had listened to Jo. But when she’d tried to comfort him, as she had comforted Jo, it hadn’t been the soft, soothing words she’d offered that he wanted. So she’d given him the heat instead and