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Gwen was still shaking when the phone in the living room rang. She’d managed to keep it together in front of Tarbell but had fallen apart the moment she reached home. Collecting Kirsten from the sitter had done it. Her daughter was the reason for what she’d done. The deal she’d struck with Tarbell was her only way out. Answering the phone came as a welcome relief. It took her mind off what she’d done.

“Gwen Farris?”

Gwen didn’t recognize the woman’s voice on the telephone line. “Yes.”

“I’m Lynette Petersen,” she said and after a short pause followed up with, “Tom Petersen’s wife. You left a message on our machine.”

She was long past worrying about Petersen, but maybe he could help her with the action she was planning to take. “Yes. Can I speak to him?”

“No. He’s not here. Can I ask why you’re calling him?”

“He’s been helping me with a problem.”

“Would this problem have anything to do with a man trying to hurt you?”

Gwen sat up in her seat. Petersen had talked to his wife about her. “Yes.”

“We need to talk. Now, if possible.”

Gwen wanted to tell Lynette to call back later, but
the woman’s urgency worried her. “I have a young child. Do you mind coming here?”

“No.”

As soon as Gwen heard a car pull up, she went outside. Lynette was an attractive woman for her age, but worry was etched into her features. She ushered Lynette into the kitchen and sat her down.

“Thanks for seeing me.”

“Not a problem.”

“When did you last speak to Tom?”

“Last Thursday.”

Lynette was silent for a moment. “That was the last time I heard from him, too.”

“He hasn’t been home?”

“I don’t know; I’ve been gone. Tom said the person he was staking out had found out about him and knew where he lived. He sent me out of town for a few days for my safety. Is this related to you?”

It sure sounded like Tarbell. “I think so. Tom never mentioned it to me, though.”

“What is all this about?”

“It’s about a man called Stephen Tarbell,” Gwen said and outlined the events of the last few weeks, from his first attack through to her firing. “Tom believed I was a victim. He offered to help without PSI’s support. He installed security cameras here in case Tarbell breaks in again.”

Lynette smiled, looking up at the cameras. “Just like Tom not to let things go.”

“The last I heard from him he’d broken into Stephen Tarbell’s house to find evidence. He called me to say he’d found proof, but I never heard from him again. I thought he’d been arrested for breaking in, but I guess he wasn’t.”

Lynnette looked down at the
table. Gwen wasn’t giving her the answers she’d been hoping for. Gwen also felt defeated. Lynette hadn’t given her anything to go on.

“Mrs. Petersen, can I get you something to drink?”

“Water, please.”

Gwen filled a glass and brought it back to the table.

“Did you talk to Robert Ingram at PSI?” Lynette asked.

“I’ve tried, but PSI has no interest in anything I have to say since I’ve been fired. They helped my employer take out a restraining order out against me. That’s what Stephen Tarbell has done to my life.”

“Why didn’t you go the police when you didn’t hear from Tom?”

“Considering what Tom was doing at the time, it wasn’t a good idea. Besides, I thought he’d abandoned me. Everybody else has.”

“Do you think this Stephen Tarbell could have hurt Tom?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m going to report this to the police.”

Gwen couldn’t let that happen, not when she had everything so delicately poised. Police involvement would cast scrutiny on her she couldn’t afford, but worse, the police would interview Tarbell. It would prevent him from striking back at her and keep Kirsten safe, but it was a short-term fix. Once he’d dealt with the police, he’d come after her again. She’d barely managed to keep a grip on her courage to follow through with her plan for dealing with Tarbell. In a month, it might not be there. She couldn’t let Lynette involve the police.

“Lynette, I’m going to tell you something. I’m trusting you that what I tell you doesn’t leave this room.”

Lynette was silent. Gwen took her silence as a yes.

“My husband is in a coma. He was beaten and left for dead. Stephen Tarbell called me to tell me he’d done it. He’s also sworn to kill my daughter.”

Each piece of information seemed
to put another crushing burden on Lynette. Gwen knew she should spare this woman the details. She was living in a state of fear, a fear that would be magnified by knowing what Tarbell was capable of. Lynette’s husband had been missing for a week. It wasn’t fair that Gwen should burden her, but she had to make her understand what was at stake.

“I can’t let that happen, Lynette. Stephen Tarbell can destroy my career and my life, but I can’t let him kill my daughter.”

Lynette reached across the table and took Gwen’s hand. “Come with me to the police.”

“I’ve tried that. They aren’t interested. Tarbell has made me into the monster. Everyone is protecting him. It has forced me to take matters into my own hands.”

Lynette pulled her hand back. “Gwen, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve made a deal. I offered my life for Kirsten’s.”

“You’re crazy. You can’t.”

“But I don’t have a choice. I have to. Now I need your help.”

Lynette pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to find Tom.” She rose to her feet. “I have to go.”

Gwen followed her to the front door. “Lynette, please, don’t go to the police. I don’t have anyone to help me. I’m desperate. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help.”

“He’s going to kill my daughter. If you go to the police, it will guarantee her death.”

That stopped Lynette. It was cruel of her to put this on Lynette, but she was way beyond being fair. Things had to be done her way from now on.

Lynette picked up a framed photograph off the mantel. It was a picture of Kirsten taken only the month before their lives had been hurled into free fall.

“Is this her?”

Gwen nodded.

Lynette brushed a caring
hand over Kirsten’s image before replacing the frame on the mantel. “I need a question answered before I can help you.”

Gwen hoped it was a question she could answer. “OK.”

“Do you think Tom is dead?”

Gwen closed her eyes. She didn’t want to answer this question, but it was the only way to get what she wanted. She had to answer honestly. Lynette would see through anything else. “Yes, I do.”

Fifteen years earlier

P
arker’s Suburban bounced over a pothole
and Gwen jerked back into consciousness. A fog still clouded her thoughts from where he’d slammed her head against the wall, but rising panic soon cleared her mind. This guy had her and God only knew what he had planned for her.

He hadn’t noticed her come to. She wanted to keep it that way and remained slumped against the passenger door.

She couldn’t escape if she didn’t know where she was. A sign flashed by for Woodland. She knew the farm community well, but she didn’t recognize the road they were on. Woodland was small. She’d find a way to a road she knew. That was the easy part. Escaping was the problem.

Parker had been lazy. He hadn’t bound her. He’d put his faith in his strength and her frailty. His focus wasn’t even on her. He was singing along with the softly playing radio. She had an edge.

Not only had he not bound her, he hadn’t even belted her into her seat. How fast were they traveling? She couldn’t see the speedometer without moving and giving herself away. Judging by the world speeding by her window and the engine noise, she estimated they were doing about forty
miles an hour. Forty didn’t sound fast unless you were contemplating hurling yourself out of a vehicle. She was looking at some serious injuries if she jumped, but something worse if she didn’t. She didn’t have a choice.

She psyched herself up and focused on everything she needed to do. Grab the door handle and yank. Her body weight would force the door open and she’d tumble out. She wouldn’t fight the fall. She’d just go with it, curl into a tight ball, protect her head and hope for the best.

Parker slowed for a bend. Gwen wouldn’t get a better chance, and she yanked on the handle. The door didn’t budge.

Parker grabbed her by the hair and jerked her across the bench seat over to him. “What do you take me for, an idiot?”

Gwen said nothing.

He put his mouth to her ear. “But you did. That’s why you weren’t very nice to me back there. I was just some redneck who you thought didn’t deserved the time of day, let alone any common courtesy. Now you’re going to find out what being rude gets you.”

The panic Gwen had managed to quash earlier reemerged with a vengeance. Plotting her escape had quelled her fears, but now any chance of escape was gone.

“Lesson learned. Let me go, and I won’t say anything to anyone.”

Parker laughed a dirty laugh filled with cruelty. “You’re a long way from learning a lesson, but I’ll teach you. Yeah, I’ll teach you real good.”

He pulled off the road onto a dirt and gravel drive. The Suburban’s headlights lit up a sorry-looking double-wide. He stopped the truck in front of it and cut the engine. “Home, sweet home.”

He entwined his hand deep inside Gwen’s hair and made a fist. Gwen yelped. He chuckled, then dragged her across the bench seat and out of
the vehicle. “Scream if you like. No one will hear you.”

It wasn’t an empty boast. Fields stretched in all directions. Gwen didn’t see any lights or houses. “Please don’t do this. You don’t want to do this.”

“But I do.”

Gwen broke into sobs. She’d done her best not to. She hadn’t wanted to feed his ego or show any fear. Her legs went out from under her.

“C’mon, Gwen, don’t embarrass yourself.”

Parker dragged her to her feet. She struck out at him, but he grabbed her and shoved her through the door into the trailer. “Welcome to Casa Parker.”

It smelled of old food and damp. He pushed her at the sofa, and she fell onto it.

She expected him to pounce, but he opened a cupboard and brought out a pair of tumblers and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He smiled and poured two generous measures. The scene jarred. He couldn’t seriously be trying to make a date out of this abduction. It was beyond ridiculous. He held out a glass to Gwen, and she took it, too afraid to turn down his hospitality.

He remained standing, putting a barrier between her and the door behind him.

“Gwen, you have to learn that you can’t be a snob. You can’t treat people like shit just because you think you’re better than them.”

“I didn’t. I wasn’t.”

“Don’t give me that. You and your friends thought you could treat me like shit because you’re clever little college things and I’m some knuckle dragger.”

“It wasn’t like that. I just didn’t know you.”

“Well, here’s our chance to get acquainted.”

“I don’t want to.”

He slammed his glass down on the
table. Gwen jumped. “See, Gwen, there you go again with that holier-than-thou attitude. You’re giving me the brush-off before you’ve had a chance to get to know me.”

“I have the right to decide who I get to know.”

Parker snorted. “I guess you do. I suppose you want to leave.”

Was this some kind of trick? He wasn’t going to let her go after all he’d done. Or maybe he would. Perhaps this was an elaborate act to put the fear of God in her. Well, it was mission accomplished. “Yes. I want to go.”

“Sing me a song and you can go.”

“What?”

“It’s quite simple. Sing me a song and you can go.”

“I don’t want to sing.”

“Gwen, give me something here. You don’t want to be with me, and now you won’t sing for me. Am I that horrible?”

It was a question she didn’t dare answer. “What do you want to hear?”

“Anything. I don’t care. I just like hearing your voice. Sing me something from tonight. Your choice.”

She ran through the songs from her set tonight in her head. She knew them but the words were smudged in her mind. “I don’t think I can.”

“Sure you can. You just need some encouragement.”

He came over, took the glass from her hand, lifted her from the sofa, and pushed her to the center of room. Through the open doorway, an unmade bed showed her the alternative.

Parker took Gwen’s seat on the sofa and sipped her whiskey. “C’mon, Gwen, give me your best.”

She closed her eyes and pictured the words. The lyrics to a song appeared. She sang the first line. A tremor killed her normally clear voice.

“Oh, Gwen, you’ve got to do better than that if you expect to leave here.”

Gwen opened her eyes. She looked
from Parker to the door. It sat ajar. She zeroed in on that. She pictured herself leaving through that door and made herself believe that the door would remain open if she sang a song.

She turned her gaze on Parker and sang to him. Her voice wasn’t as crisp as it had been back at Brats, but there was no tremor.

When she finished the song, Parker applauded. “That was very nice.”

“Thanks.”

She headed toward the door. Parker jumped up to block her path. “Sorry, I don’t think I can let you leave.”

She didn’t argue or complain or even attempt to reason with him. She just bolted for the door.

He grabbed Gwen and drove her into a wall. The trailer rocked, and she buckled. He scooped her up and dragged her toward the bedroom.

She kicked. She wouldn’t let him take her in there. If she went into that room with him, she’d die. She kicked again and tried to punch him, but failed to land a blow that had any effect on Parker. He was too big and too strong.

He threw her down on the bed so hard she bit her tongue. Blood trickled between her lips. The sight of it excited him. He fell on top of her and kissed her, forcing his tongue in her mouth. She tasted the alcohol on his breath and snapped her face away.

“Don’t deny me now, Gwen,” he snarled.

He pinned her down by the throat while he hitched up her skirt and jerked down his pants.

This can’t be happening
, Gwen thought. Her brain burned with fear. She couldn’t let this happen.

She struck out at him and her nails gored his cheek.

He slapped her hard across the face. Fire-like bursts crossed her vision, but she also saw the bedside lamp. She grabbed it and smashed it across Parker’s head. It made a hollow thud against his skull and dropped him to his knees.

She shoved him aside and raced
for the door, but he hooked her ankle and brought her smashing down on her face. She didn’t let that faze her, and she was back on her feet, running.

So was Parker. He grabbed her hair and snapped her head back. Gwen crashed into the dining table, breaking the flimsy thing. She went down with the table, and his dishes and the open bottle of Jack landed on top of her. She went for the bottle and swung it at Parker. It connected with his temple. His eyes rolled up in his head, and for a second, Gwen thought she had him, but he clung on to consciousness and slapped the bottle out of her hand.

“Bitch,” he barked.

Hatred, thick and black, consumed his expression. It scared Gwen. She had only angered him, and she knew she’d pay the price now.

He pinned her to the floor by the throat with one hand while his hand grabbed something from among the table’s wreckage. She didn’t see what it was until he’d driven the steak knife into her midsection.

Gwen couldn’t say it hurt. Pain ignited through her entire body, but it was immediately scattered by too many competing sensations fighting for prominence. All she knew was she couldn’t move.

Parker stared at his handiwork. His overwhelming fury dissolved into panic.

“Oh, Christ,” he murmured.

“Help me.” The words came hard for Gwen.

He looked at her face, then at the knife, then back to her face again.

“Help me,” she repeated.

Parker staggered back from what he’d done, then shouldered his way out of the trailer. Gwen knew he wouldn’t be returning.

The present

Gwen lined up with the rest of the visitors entering San Quentin. She didn’t receive special treatment this time. There’d be no one-on-one with Parker. That was because
Naylor hadn’t pulled any strings to get her inside. Naylor wasn’t to know of this meeting. No one was. She’d submitted a formal request and hoped Parker would agree. She thought he would. Even blind to her reasons for visiting, he wouldn’t be able to resist.

It hadn’t been an easy decision for her to make. In a lot of ways, she hadn’t made a decision. Her choices had been peeled away one by one until a single course of action remained.

Gwen passed all the security checks and was escorted into the same visiting area as before. This time, she wasn’t alone. The room was packed with visitors and inmates.

Parker spotted her first. He put up a hand, and she weaved her way over to him. He smiled and put out a hand for her to shake. She hesitated for a second before shaking it. She didn’t want her refusal to return the gesture to draw any attention. Taking his broad, strong hand cast her back in time. She remembered those hands pawing at her, trying to worm their way into her underwear. It was the same hand she saw in nightmares grabbing a knife and plunging it into her stomach.

“Good to see you, Gwen,” he said, smiling. “I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you before Friday. Can’t get enough of me, eh?”

His little joke made her recoil, like she was hearing fingers drawn down a chalkboard. His smile broadened at seeing her discomfort.

He dropped the smile. “What do you want, Gwen?”

“I wanted to talk.”

“And talk without Naylor’s knowledge. I find that strange. My lawyer would find it even stranger.”

Gwen felt a spike of fear. “Have you told him?”

“No. The son of a bitch would bill me. You’re safe. I imagine that’s what you were counting on.”

Gwen said nothing and waited for Parker to stop playing. She needed him to be in a listening mood.

“Something you want to get off your delightful chest?”

“There’s something.”

Parker sucked in a breath. “So hard. So strong. Who would have thought that college girl I met all
those years ago would become such a tough cookie. I like it. Really, I do. I like to think I had something to do with that change in character.”

“You can think what you like.”

“I can and do, even within walls. That’s one thing they can’t take away from me. So, what do you want?”

“I want to make you an offer.”

Parker lost his playfulness and narrowed his eyes. “What kind of offer?”

“I need something done, and I think you can do it for me.”

Parker flung his arms wide. “From in here?”

“No.”

She let the significance of that remark sink in.

“Is this some stunt Naylor put you up to?”

“No.”

“Yeah, right. If you’re wearing a wire, anything you get in here isn’t legal.”

Gwen pulled her jacket open. “No wire. No Naylor. No anyone. This is just about you and me.”

Parker wavered, his suspicion melting, but he didn’t let it drain away completely. He’d been inside too long for that.

“What’s the offer?”

She leaned forward. This was the part no one else was meant to hear. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“I’m going to. I just have to say my piece Friday and it’s done.”

“But you’ve got me in the way.”

A crooked smile spread across his face. “I don’t think so. You said it yourself last time. I’m the model prisoner and there are plenty waiting to take my place. I’ll get my parole.”

“Don’t be so sure. I’ll be a compelling witness. My life hasn’t been going well the last few weeks. My career is in the toilet. My husband is in the hospital with a coma. My medical insurance runs out at the end of the month, and
I don’t have the money to renew it. So, I’m feeling vindictive, and I want some payback. Come Friday, I’m going to make you look like the devil incarnate, and no matter how squeaky-clean your record is inside, the parole board won’t let you out. Ever.”

Parker’s hands curled into fists. “You bitch.”

“Watch the tone. You don’t want to draw any unnecessary attention.”

“Neither do you.”

Gwen shrugged. “Even if I do, I get to leave. You don’t. So keep your cool. If you take a swing, I don’t even have to turn up on Friday. Your parole will be done.”

Parker uncurled his hands, but he was breathing hard. His chest swelled with each breath, stretching his T-shirt tight. He was still a man to be reckoned with. Despite the model-prisoner act, he was a brutal monster capable of despicable acts. He was the man she needed.