Chill Factor

He knocked on the door again, louder this time. “Lilly?” He pushed the door open and looked in. She wasn’t in the bedroom. The bathroom door was closed. Quickly he went to it and knocked so hard it hurt his cold knuckles. “Lilly?” When

he didn’t get an immediate answer, he opened the door.

The bathroom was empty.

Alarmed, he spun around but came to a staggering halt when he saw her standing behind the bedroom door, where she must have been hiding when he came in.

Fuck!

The contents of his backpack lay scattered on the floor at her feet.

And in her hands, aimed directly at him, was his own pistol.

CHAPTER

16

HE TOOK A STEP TOWARD HER.

“Stay there or I’ll shoot you.”

He indicated the items on the floor. “I can explain all that. But not while you’re pointing a gun at me.” He advanced another step.

“Stop, or I will shoot you.”

“Lilly, put down the gun,” he said with infuriating calmness. “You’re not going to shoot me. At least not intentionally.”

“I swear to God I will.”

Her trembling hands were wrapped around the gun the way Dutch had taught her. Over her objections, he had insisted she learn how to fire a pistol. He said he’d made enemies of criminals who might come looking for him once they were released from their incarceration, for which he was largely responsible. He’d taken her to the firing range and coached her until he was satisfied that she could protect herself in a crisis situation.

The lessons had been more for his peace of mind than for hers. She couldn’t conceive of ever having to put them to the test. She certainly never thought they would be tested on Ben Tierney.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“You know who I am.”

“I only thought I did,” she said gruffly.

“Every male above the age of twelve carries some kind of firearm in this part of the country.”

“True. A pistol in a hiker’s backpack isn’t cause for alarm.”

“Then explain why you’re pointing it at me.”

“You know why, Tierney. You’re not stupid. But I believe I have been.”

So much of what he’d said and done over the past eighteen hours had struck her as curious but in no way frightening. Combined with what she had discovered in his backpack, that perception had dramatically changed.

“Lilly, put down the—”

“Don’t move!” She thrust the pistol forward another inch when he took a hesitant step. “I know how to fire this, and I will.”

Her voice lacked enough steam to sound convincing. Because she was trapped without any hope of rescue with a man she now suspected of kidnapping five women, probably murdering them, and because she had missed two doses of medication, her breathing had become increasingly labored.

It didn’t escape his notice. “You’re in trouble.”

“No, you are.”