"Where are they, Colin?"
"I--I don't know. How could I know?"
Dallas sat back in his chair, trying to give the appearance of a man with all the time in the world. A calm man negotiating a business deal, just like on any other day. "I understand why you didn't tell us earlier that Adele was involved in the kidnapping," he said. "But we know the truth. But we're not upset, Colin. You loved Adele. You were trying to help her."
He leaned forward, then, his eyes tight on Colin's face. "And now I need you to help Jane. Because she needs you desperately. You're her father. The man who shares her blood. And you're the only one who can save her. So tell me, Colin. Where would Adele take Jane? Where would she take a woman she wants to torture? To kill."
Colin's shoulders jerked, and he shook his head. "No. No, she wouldn't."
Dallas grabbed the edge of the table, squeezing as tight as he could in an effort to stay calm. To not leap across the table and strangle the man. This stupid, psychopathic lunatic with absolutely no perception of reality. "Do you really think that Adele will let her go? You know the woman better than anyone, Colin. Do you truly believe she'll let Jane live? After what she did to me? After how obsessed she is about me?"
Just saying the words aloud hurt, the effort of forcing them out so intense his entire body ached. He was wound so tight he didn't know how much longer he could hold it in, and he stood up, circling the table and then pacing in front of Colin, hoping the act of moving would help him control his rage.
For Jane, he thought. He had to keep it together for Jane.
Colin just shook his head. "I don't know," he said, a high note of hysteria tainting his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about. What did she do to you? She's your friend, she always has been. And I--I know you two had a relationship, but she's moved on. You've moved on. I don't know what you're talking about."
"You fucking liar," Dallas said, his fist swinging out to connect with Colin's jaw.
Violent sobs wracked the older man. "I don't know!" he said. "I don't know what you mean!"
And, goddammit, Dallas believed him. The fear in his eyes. The unfocused terror. Not that he would be discovered lying, but that he would be punished again for something he didn't even understand.
"You worthless bastard," Dallas said. "You planned the kidnapping--don't even try to lie, Quince has done the polygraph, and Ortega suggested as much before he died. Before you arranged to have him killed. Now, goddammit, help me find Jane."
"I snapped." Colin choked out the words. "What Eli did. Lisa, how she hurt me. And the money. So broke, and I needed to--"
"You let that bitch have free rein," Dallas growled, interrupting the string of almost incomprehensible excuses.
"No--no. Just food. Water. She took care of you."
Dallas barked out a raucous laugh. "The hell she did." He moved in, then jerked Colin's chair to the side so that he could lean in close, his hands on the arms just above Colin's wrists. "She tied Jane up. Left her in the dark, bound to a table. No food, no water. For hours at a time. Sometimes days."
Colin only whimpered and shook his head.
"But she actually went easy on Jane. It was me she wanted. Me she wanted to break. Maybe she was playing with me because she knew you couldn't give a shit. That you were happy to kill me if Eli didn't pay your fucking ransom. Or maybe she was already obsessed with me. Maybe that's why she snapped so hard--why she's carried this obsession with her for so long. I don't know. I don't fucking care. All I know is that she did things--"
His voice broke, and he took a hard breath as if gathering strength.
"Horrible, sexual things. Emotional things. Sex and mind games and everything in between. She broke me, Colin. She fucking broke me. And Jane is the one who saved me.
"Now that bitch girlfriend of yours has taken Jane. She's going to kill her. Somewhere in that fucked-up brain of hers she thinks that will clear a path to me. Or maybe she knows that I would never be with her, and she's going to kill Jane to punish us both. I don't know. I don't fucking care. All I know is that the woman I love--the woman you fathered and claim to love, too--is going to die if we don't move now. And right now, it's all on you."
"I didn't know! I swear, I didn't know! Oh, god, Dallas, I swear I didn't know!"
Dallas didn't know if he was lying, and right then he couldn't care less. "Then help me, dammit. Tell me where she took her. Tell me before she kills Jane."
For a moment, Colin was silent except for the sound of his ragged, wet breaths. Then he lifted his face and Dallas saw renewed determination. "No."
Dallas reeled backward, the force of Colin's words as powerful as a punch in the gut. "What the hell did you say?"
"No," Colin repeated, and some of his old confidence seemed to flow back into his face. "I have a good idea where Adele would take her. And I'll tell you," he said. "But there's a price."
Dallas sat beside Liam in the Range Rover as Quince tore through traffic toward the Connecticut farmhouse that Colin had directed them to. A property in need of restoration that Adele had purchased under her true, legal name upon first moving to the States after the kidnapping.
"She said it represented her," Colin had said. "That as she grew and changed, the house would, too. She's like that. Very self-aware. That's why she's such a good therapist. That's why she was able to help me deal with what we'd done--why she urged me to reestablish our relationship when you and Jane were in college."
You fucking idiot, Dallas had wanted to say. Because Colin seemed to truly believe his bullshit. That Adele was some kind of psychological guru, forging a path through both their neuroses. He had no inkling that she was a psychopath, no hint that his own descent had fueled her obsession.