Sweet Spot. Susan Mallery

Trent Burnell—stand in her way. “Fine. I’ll drive myself to the prison. If the officer wants to ask me questions, he can meet me there. Or he can arrest me.” Clutching her robe closed, she ran up the stairs.

      DAMN.

      Listening to the soft thump of Rees’s footsteps climbing the stairs, Trent ran his gaze over the warm wood and creamy white walls of her foyer. Her collection of teddy bears scattered the staircase and bench and stared down at him from an ornate shelf. Their glossy black eyes twinkled knowingly in the overhead lights. He pulled his gaze from the bears, his skin prickling as if dozens of real eyes watched him, studied him, judged him.

      Double damn.

      He didn’t know how he’d hoped the meeting would go, but this wasn’t even close. That Rees wanted to help save Dixie from Kane—that she needed to help—didn’t surprise him in the least. But he’d hoped she would be satisfied with going to the police station and answering questions. He should have known better.

      Simply answering questions wouldn’t be enough for her. Not Rees. Of course she would try to talk him into including her, and when he refused, she’d go barreling in on her own. He should have seen it coming. He should have done something, anything to head her off before she’d latched on to the idea of going to the prison. Before she’d dug in her heels.

      He opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop. The gentle glow of the moon caressed an oak tree’s emerging leaves and sparkled off drops of dew in the well-tended lawn. Sweet scents of lilac and honeysuckle mixed with the tang of nearby spruce. Familiar smells of Wisconsin spring that would be embedded in his memory forever.

      But in his memory, those sweet scents were impossible to separate from the hot odor of blood, the stench of decay and the evil of Dryden Kane.

      That was the reality of his life. Death and decay and a killer on the loose. Not manicured lawns. Not teddy bears.

      And certainly not someone as wholesome as Rees.

      He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the soft, lavender scent of her, the rich, husky quality in her voice, the petite curves even that flour sack of a nightshirt couldn’t hide.

      Damn. He had brought Dryden Kane into her life. He had infected her wholesome existence with evil. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have pursued the job at the University of Wisconsin, she wouldn’t have gone out of her way to include Kane in her study, and her sister wouldn’t have married the monster and helped him escape.

      He had contaminated her life. And now her sister would probably die at Kane’s hands. And Rees’s world would crumble.

      Guilt wrenched his shoulders and pounded at his skull. If only he had never taken the job in the FBI’s criminal profiling unit. If only he had never made that first trip to Wisconsin to search for the unknown subject who was kidnapping and killing coeds. If only he had never crawled into Kane’s twisted mind, become obsessed with the labyrinth he’d found and become as tainted as Kane himself. He and Risa would be married now. And her sister would be safe.

      But “if only” didn’t do him a damn bit of good. He couldn’t change the past. And even if it were possible to travel back in time and relive those early days, he couldn’t change the decisions he’d made. To change the path his career had taken would mean killers he had helped put in prison or on death row would be free. Free to take more innocent lives. And he couldn’t live with that. Not for the sake of his own personal happiness. Not even for Rees.

      He stepped off the porch and strode across the wet grass toward his rental car. He couldn’t go back in time, and he couldn’t change things. All he could do was his job. All he could do was find Kane before he killed Dixie, before he killed someone else.

      And he would do his damnedest to protect Rees in the process. Whether she liked it or not.

      FINALLY DRESSED in slacks and a cotton sweater, Risa stepped into the garage and hit the glowing button on the wall. Motor whirring, the automatic garage door slowly lifted. A car’s headlights glared from outside, the light growing as the door lifted, banishing the darkness in the garage. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the light.

      “Get in the car, Rees.” Trent’s voice barked over the drone of the garage door. “I’ll drive you to the prison.”

      She gripped her car keys in one fist, the pointed edges digging into her palm. So Trent had changed his mind. Wonders never ceased. But knowing Trent, his decision to take her to the prison had less to do with a change of heart than a change of strategy. No doubt he’d decided he could censor the ugly truth more easily if he was with her.

      Well, the first step was getting him to take her to the prison. Now she had the forty-minute drive there to convince him that she didn’t need his protection, and that she could help.

      She stepped out onto the driveway and punched the code into the garage door’s outside keypad. The door humming shut behind her, she pulled open the passenger door of Trent’s sedan and lowered herself into the bucket seat.

      His scent closed over her like warm water. A shiver shimmied up her back. A shiver with a chaser of memory. Memory of a time when she’d found comfort in his scent, in the warmth of his body next to hers. But that time was gone. Gone like the love they’d once shared. The future they’d once planned.

      She ground her teeth, anger winding into a tight ball in her belly. Good. She preferred anger to the simpering wistfulness and sadness of dwelling on what she’d lost. And how Trent had betrayed her. Anger kept her sharp. Focused. Determined. All of which she needed if she was to help Dixie.

      Trent threw the car into reverse, backed out of the driveway and piloted the vehicle in the direction of the highway. His face was hard in the glow of the dashboard light, his eyes shuttered, as if he was bracing himself for the arguments bouncing around in her mind and had already resolved not to pay them heed.

      Of course, he probably did know what she was thinking. After all, they’d first met when she was still a grad student and he was a raw FBI recruit. And God knows, eight years of courtship was plenty long enough for him to learn how her mind worked.

      And how determined she could be.

      She set her chin. “I need to know what is going on, Trent.”

      “Rees…” The muscle along his jaw clenched. His eyebrows turned down in warning. “I don’t know anything beyond what I’ve already told you.”

      “And you wouldn’t share it with me if you did.”

      “No, I wouldn’t.”

      She blew a frustrated breath between pursed lips.

      “What do you expect? Do you expect me to give you all the gory details?”

      “The gory details are my life this time. Dixie’s—” She cut off her sentence. She might as well save her breath. It was just as she’d figured. He was willing to take her to the prison, but only so he could keep her from gathering information on her own. She knotted her hands into fists in her lap. “Do you think it’s better if I find out about the case when some true-crime author writes a book about it? Is that when I should discover I had the critical piece of information that could have found Kane? That could have saved Dixie’s life?”

      His shoulders tensed, and the ever-present shadows settled deeper in his steel eyes.

      “Is it, Trent?”

      For the first time since she’d climbed into the car, he turned to look at her. A furrow dug between his brows, and his face looked thinner than she remembered. Drawn. Troubled. His mouth tensed, but he said nothing.

      He knew her, yes, but she also knew him. And she knew where that troubled look came from. She knew about the sense of responsibility that shrouded his heart. “I would never forgive myself if something that I know could save Dixie’s life. Or other lives. Would you, Trent? Would you be able to forgive yourself?”

      He flinched as if she’d slapped him. Eyes hard, he turned back to the road,