His voice was so gentle. Too gentle. Too compassionate. She couldn’t take it right then. She couldn’t fall apart more than she already had. Sam was too important. Her Sam. She had to think clearly, carefully go over every move she made before she made it. She took a deep breath and turned to face him, deliberately turning her back to the mudroom door and pressing her weight against it.
She couldn’t run through her house in a panic and Sam couldn’t go into that room with her or see her sketches or talk about her nightmare. Not this one. He would take matters into his own hands, she knew he would. He would feel it was his responsibility to bring justice to Denver. He had already indicated he thought he should. But it was Denver, and he loved Denver whether he could say it out loud or not. She knew he was grieving just as she was.
“This is so terrible for both of us. For all of us. We’re going to have to tell the others, Sam. I still don’t know how we’re going to tell them, but we have to. Jason could still be in danger.”
“I talked him out of going there again for a little while,” Sam assured her. “But that isn’t going to save another climber from Denver retaliating. We have to talk about it, Stella, and we don’t have time to wait. I need to know what spooked you tonight.”
“It was a nightmare.”
“I’m well aware it was a nightmare, sweetheart. I see you have them all the time.”
“No.” She looked away from him, unable to meet his eyes when she was lying. “It was just an ordinary nightmare, not a serial killer nightmare.”
There was a long silence. She could feel his gaze on her face and she couldn’t help squirming under the intensity. His fingers were very gentle as he cupped her chin and forced her head up until she found herself looking at him.
“I think we both are going to have to confess, sweetheart, because you are possibly the worst liar on the face of the planet and I don’t like keeping anything from you, especially things you won’t like.”
She knew instantly what he’d done. “You went to see Denver.”
“He’s in the wind. We have to talk to Griffen, Stella. We have to put everyone on alert. If we don’t, anyone he hurts, you know that’s on us.”
“I agree.” She didn’t want Sam hunting Denver. She took his hand and tugged, trying to get him to head back toward the bedroom.
Sam didn’t budge. “What don’t you want me to see in the mudroom?”
She sighed. “Let’s go talk in the bedroom. I just panicked.”
“Sweetheart. Don’t make me resort to throwing around the L word and freak you out. Just tell me.”
“He knew. Yesterday at the boulders, when I realized it wasn’t Denver’s project and I looked at him, there must have been something in the way I looked at him that made him realize I knew what he was planning. The nightmare showed a mudroom. Gear. But the last thing was hiking boots. I swear, Sam, they’re my old hiking boots. I leave them in the corner of the mudroom. He’s coming after me.”
“Why didn’t you want me to know?” He stroked his hand down her hair.
“I don’t want you to hunt him. He’s your friend. I didn’t want that for you anyway, but it seems so much worse now. I knew if you thought he was coming after me, that nothing would stop you from hunting him.”
His hands framed her face, one thumb stroking a caress down her skin. “Nothing was ever going to stop me, Stella. He has to be stopped. But you’re right. The fact that he would try to kill you makes him even more of a priority. We have to warn all of your friends and the sheriff.”
“Denver could live off the land indefinitely. He could be anywhere. He hunts, fishes, he knows every cave and old hunting cabin on properties most people have forgotten,” Stella said.
“He could very well be staying on this property, in the fishing camp, some of the older cabins,” Sam ventured. “The ones we had designated to fix up. Denver certainly knows about them. He went with me several times when I was working on the floors. He even helped me with the sinks and electricity.”
“I don’t want Sonny or Patrick anywhere near those cabins,” Stella said hastily.
“If Denver had taken off, that would be one thing,” Sam said, “but the fact that you had that nightmare, and you know he’s coming after you, means he’s sticking around here. He really is obsessed with you, Stella.” There was a note of worry in his voice.
“He doesn’t know about me, though,” she whispered. “He still has no idea that I was that little girl who saw serial killers in my dreams. If we alert him, we take the chance of him getting away. Do we trust Griffen and his boss, Paul Rafferty, to not go immediately to the FBI with this? We can’t, but we have to tell them something so they warn everyone.”