A Darkness Absolute (Rockton 2)

SIXTY-SIX

Diana's excuse about the stairs is bullshit. I've been shot in the left shoulder; I can walk just fine, even shoot just fine. That's what I argue when ten minutes of calling from the balcony doesn't bring Storm. Diana is adamant. I'm not going out into the forest.

"If she smells Eric, she might get lost trying to find him," I say. "And she has no idea how to defend herself against predators."

"No, Casey."

I lean over the balcony railing. Paul is patrolling the yard, making regular circles around the house, and as he passes again, he waves again and calls, "They'll find your pup, Casey. She's just off playing in the snow."

Snow.

My brain snags on that and again, I feel the reason should be obvious, but between the sedative and the painkillers, I feel like I'm slogging through mental molasses.

Snow. Puppy. Benjamin.

What am I miss--?

"Yes," I murmur. I turn to Diana. "Exactly how did Storm disappear?"

"We don't know. Petra said she'd put Storm in the kitchen because she kept trying to get upstairs. When I arrived, I went straight up to check on you. You seemed warm, so I took your temperature, and it was fine. Then I settled in. It was maybe a half hour later before I remembered the puppy. I'm sorry about that."

"Your priority was me, and you thought Storm was safely in the kitchen. Except she wasn't, right?"

Diana nods.

"And the backdoor was closed and locked?"

She hesitates.

"Diana...?"

"I'm walking a minefield here, Casey. You know how I feel about Petra. When I arrived in Rockton, Petra and I hung around. Then you came along, and it was just like with Will--Casey arrives, and I'm persona non grata."

I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't give me that look," she says. "It's true. You're the interesting one. You're the messed-up one. Somehow that combination is catnip. You came along, and suddenly Will isn't interested in a return visit to my bed and Petra's found herself a brand new friend."

Which is bullshit. Anders had a one-nighter with Diana, but even before I showed up, he'd made it clear he wasn't interested in more. He'd seen her damage and decided to steer clear. As for Petra, it was Diana who'd given her the cold shoulder, and then she got pissy when Petra and I started hanging out. But all the council-mandated therapy with Isabel isn't ever going to convince Diana she's not the wronged party.

"The back door...," I prod.

"That's what I'm getting at. You know I don't like Petra. You came here for me, and then when we had hit a rough patch, she jumped in. It's like stealing someone's husband during a trial separation. You just don't do that."

I'm not even sure where to begin untangling that mess of self-delusion.

She continues, "If I tell you that the back door was cracked open, it's going to sound like maybe I opened it and let your puppy out, just to be spiteful."

"So the back door was open."

"I would never let your dog out, Casey. Never. Whatever I've done, I haven't ever hurt anyone."

I stay silent. This isn't the time to rehash history. But she knows what I would say and responds with, "Kurt was a mistake. I didn't like the guy. I thought he was using you. The ex-con and the cop? It was an obvious setup. Either he was planning a crime and wanted your alibi or he knew you had money and was conning you."

"Neither. He was just a guy trying to put his life back--"

"Whatever. The point is that I didn't hurt him. I didn't plan for him to get hurt either. Graham hired that guy. He told me he was just supposed to scare you, wave a gun, fire a warning shot. I told myself that thug shot Kurt by accident, but you know what? I don't think it was a mistake. I think that's what Graham hired him for. He lied to me. He was playing me the whole time."

"Okay..."