Evidence Of Marriage. Ann Voss Peterson

      He expected a reaction. She didn’t give him one.

      And he knew why. “Of course, you’ve already thought of that, haven’t you? That’s why you didn’t object when I offered police protection.”

      She averted her gaze, studying a crack in the Formica. “He sent the card to Sylvie. He wrote that bit about her wedding. I’m afraid for her.”

      “You should be afraid for yourself, too.”

      “I brought him into Sylvie’s life and my own. I have to deal with him.”

      “By running to visit him? How do you think giving him exactly what he wants is dealing with him?”

      “If I can get him to talk to me, to tell me something, anything about the Copycat Killer, maybe you can use it to find him before he kills more women.”

      “And Kane?”

      “If you can get evidence tying him to the copycat, maybe you could justify sending him back into solitary confinement, no matter what kind of lawsuit he won against the department of corrections.”

      Not a bad idea, except for the part about her talking to Kane. “I’m sorry, Diana. It’s out of the question.”

      She leaned forward, her breasts brushing the tabletop. “I know he refuses to talk to anyone. But he’ll talk to me.”

      “I’m sure he will.”

      “What’s the problem then?”

      If she really didn’t think asking him to agree to put her in danger was a problem, he sure as hell wasn’t going to point it out. The last thing he needed was for her to cram his need to protect her back down his throat. It was a battle he couldn’t win. “My lieutenant will never go for the idea.”

      “I’ll talk to him.”

      “He’s up to his neck in sewage today. I don’t think he’ll have time for a meeting.”

      She narrowed her eyes, as if seeing straight through him. “This isn’t personal, Reed. I came to you because you’re the lead detective on the copycat case.”

      “Okay. It’s not personal. Then don’t take it personally when I tell you there’s no way in hell you’re getting near that prison.”

      “You can’t stop me. I’ll talk to Kane on my own. I did it before.”

      Her words pierced his chest like a well-aimed ice pick. She’d kept a lot of things from him in the months before their wedding—the fact that Kane was her biological father, her visits to the prison, her doubts concerning their marriage. She hadn’t trusted him with any of it. “And if I’d known, I would have stopped you then.”

      “Exactly why I didn’t tell you.” She pushed back her chair, the metal legs screeching against worn linoleum. “Obviously talking to you about this was a waste of time. I’ll just go straight to your lieutenant and see what he has to say.” Thrusting herself out of her chair, she turned and marched for the door.

      Watching the sharp kick of her hips, Reed gritted his teeth. He knew what the lieutenant would say. Months of no new leads and the return of summer squeezing down on his head, he’d probably jump at her offer. And in light of Reed’s past relationship with Diana, it was doubtful the lieutenant would assign him to accompany her to the prison. A more likely choice would be Nikki. Or, heaven help him, the publicity-seeking Stan Perreth. “Wait.”

      Diana stopped and spun to face him, hair flung over her shoulder, resolve glinting in her eyes, passion flushing her cheeks.

      For a second, he couldn’t breathe normally.

      He must be crazy for considering this. Certifiable. She’d told him she didn’t want his protection, hadn’t she? Hell, even back when she’d allowed him to take care of her, he’d failed. But somehow none of that, not even the ache of his own battered heart, could make a difference. He might not want to accompany Diana into that prison, but he couldn’t live with the idea of her walking in there alone. Whether he could protect her this time or not, he didn’t know. But he was certain to the marrow of his bones that he couldn’t stand by and not try. “Give me a second to clean up this mess, and I’ll drive you to Banesbridge.”

      Chapter Three

      Diana didn’t have to wonder how worried Reed was about her visit with Dryden Kane. He spent the entire hour-long drive to the prison lecturing her about the psyche of the serial killer. The security screening and trek down the halls of the main building he filled with warnings about prison security. By the time they’d reached the tiny observation room next to the room where she would meet her father and he started jotting down a list of approved questions, she’d had enough. “Listen, I’m the one asking the questions. I’m the one who will decide what they are.”

      Reed paced across the closet-sized space. He stopped and peered at the television monitor showing four chairs arranged around a small table in the adjacent room. The table and one of the chairs were riveted to the floor. “Dryden Kane is a very smart and dangerous man. You may be his daughter, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to try to manipulate you just like he does everyone else. In fact, it’s probably even more important to him to control you.”

      “From where I’m standing, you’re the one who’s trying to control me.” She was sorry as soon as the words left her lips. Comparing Reed to Kane wasn’t even on the remote edges of fair. Reed was only doing his job. And despite their past together, she had to focus on what she needed to do, too. It was just that no matter how things had changed from the days when she’d been helpless and Reed had been her protector, the fact that she still felt that vulnerable flutter run through her every time he looked at her made her want to do anything she could to push him away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. But I can take care of myself, Reed. I have to take care of myself.” She’d learned that the hard way.

      “So you’ve said.”

      He didn’t get it. Maybe he never would. But it didn’t matter. She knew how much being dependent on other people had cost her. She had only to close her eyes and she was tied up in that cabin in the woods, waiting for her own death, reaching deep for the strength to see her nightmare through and coming up empty.

      She knew Reed would never believe it, but breaking off their engagement had shattered her heart, too. She hadn’t had much of a choice. All she’d been through in that dark forest had taught her she couldn’t rely on someone else to take care of her. She had to grow up and do it herself. Even now, seeing the concern in his eyes, hearing the solid logic in his voice, smelling the familiar scent of his skin—a scent that used to make her feel safe—made her want to curl in his arms and forget the whole thing. If she’d stayed with him, if she’d married him, it would have been only a matter of time before she’d have slipped right back into need and dependence.

      She’d have been lost for good.

      The door on the far end of the interview room swung wide, and two guards led Dryden Kane inside.

      She hadn’t seen him for nine months, but he hadn’t changed. He still looked much younger than his forty-eight years. Young, and fresh and strangely wholesome. But the aura surrounding him was anything but. The air crackled with an oppressive and dangerous energy that crawled up her spine and trembled in her chest. And Diana knew if she dared meet his ice-blue eyes, she’d stare straight into the flat chill of death.

      The guards led him to the chair that was riveted to the floor and handcuffed him to its arms. Once Kane was secured, a guard with broad shoulders and kind brown eyes peered up at the camera. “He’s ready for you.”

      Diana took a step toward the door, her knees trembling so hard they teetered on the edge of collapse.

      Reed touched her arm. “Don’t agree to anything he asks. Don’t promise anything. And don’t tell him anything personal that he can use against you. At least no more than he already knows.”