Page 57 of South of Nowhere (Colter Shaw #5)

57.

John Millwood felt so relieved that he’d found her—and found her alone, not in flagrante—that he forgave her.

Typical of how generous he was toward her.

Running from him, destroying his car, his shoes, his Armani jacket…

It was a sign of his wondrous kindness, forgiving her.

“Isn’t it funny—I don’t mean ha-ha funny—I mean confluential. That’s a word I made up. ‘Confluence’ like things coming together and ‘coincidental.’?”

She was staring with an odd expression. Dismay, he believed.

He forgave her for that too. He found his lust expanding and he remembered the first time they’d made love. It was so beautiful…After, he’d just sat and stared at her, while she slept. Every inch of her body, from the pores of her hair to the freckles on her thighs. He didn’t get a minute’s sleep that night.

He was tempted to re-create that now—on the blankets she’d brought in her effort to escape from him. There would be some justice in that.

But no.

There was a time and a place for everything.

“Confluential…I don’t want to say we’re soulmates. That’s a cliché that cheapens the concept of what we have. We transcend that.”

Fiona’s voice choked. “Please, just leave!”

As if he hadn’t heard a word. “You went a little crazy in the head. That’s all. Let’s get all this stuff packed up. We’ll take the spa off the table, why don’t we?”

He’d work on her weight himself back in Reno.

And for now, he’d reward her: “We can stop at Denny’s on the way.”

“John. Listen to you! I just want to be left alone.”

“Ah, you don’t really mean that. You’re just upset. Writer’s block, maybe.”

Her shoulders slumped, but her eyes blazed. “You’re troubled! There’s something wrong with you.”

Ooo. That wasn’t good. He bristled.

She continued, “Don’t you think that if I went to all this trouble, hiding from you? That’s a message!”

“A message,” he mocked. “Message…I think it’s a message that maybe you’re the one who isn’t quite right.”

“I’ve had it. No more.”

“There are ten million women in this world who’d give their eyeteeth to be loved the way I love you.” He moved closer. “You must be cold. Denny’s. Hot cocoa.” She’d ordered it once at another chain restaurant, where they had a Saturday lunch. She had seemed unhappy—among the first indications that she was confused about her love for him. She hardly said a word for the entire hour he’d made her sit at the booth. But he remembered she liked the cocoa.

He took a look over her things. There was a lot to carry. But he didn’t want to leave anything behind.

“You’re not going to hurt me again, are you? You’re always hurting me.”

He felt indignant. “That only happens for a reason. I don’t do it because I enjoy hurting you. But there are times…”

Times she disobeyed, times she looked at other men, times she didn’t reply “I love you too” fast enough.

“John, you’re a good-looking man. You have a fine job. Find somebody else.”

“I don’t want anybody else. We’ve been through this a million times. It’s you I love.”

“You don’t love me. I know you’ve been sleeping with Sophie in your accounting department.”

He laughed triumphantly. “See, you are jealous! You do love me. And Soph? That’s nothing. Physical gratification. It’s just what I saw you doing by yourself in the shower.”

She gasped.

He’d drilled a hole into the bathroom wall.

“All right, pack up. Let’s get out of here. We’ll hit that Denny’s. Cocoa and burgers. There’s one with a motel nearby I passed on the way here. We’ll have some food. You could use a shower.”

Then disaster struck.

“Fiona!” a man called from the tunnel entrance. “It’s me, Colter.”

A flashlight beam swept the floor.

Millwood turned to Fiona, making a fist with his right hand and touching a finger to his lips with his left.

She looked horrified but nodded.

Shaw continued, “John’s SUV’s parked on the highway. He’s somewhere near—”

As he stepped into the space, Millwood turned the flashlight of his phone on and shone it into Shaw’s face. The man blinked and froze. He quickly switched the flashlight to his left hand. And started to draw a gun.

But Millwood lunged forward and slammed into Shaw, who stumbled to the ground, dropping the pistol. Millwood grabbed it.

He didn’t know much about weapons. There didn’t seem to be a safety latch. Apparently, all you did was point and shoot. Shaw’s reaction bore this out. “Wait, Millwood. Careful…” He climbed to his feet and, palms forward, walked to Fiona, asking, “You all right?”

She whispered that she was.

The nightmare had become real. He raged, “I knew it! Knew it all along! You’ve been fucking her. You were part of the whole thing! Did you help her crash the car? Help her put together this little love nest?”

“Millwood, put the weapon down. You don’t want to get into more trouble.”

“John, please—”

“Don’t be a fool.” Shaw hesitated. “Everybody knows she’s here.”

A lie. Millwood could tell—he could read people like books. One of his special talents. And the truth was no one knew she was here. Of course Shaw wouldn’t say anything. He wanted her all to himself.

“Quiet!” he raged. And shoved the gun her way.

“Millwood! It’s got a hair trigger!”

“Shut up,” he muttered. But he did take his finger off the trigger—and was relieved to know that if he did shoot, there’d be nothing complicated about it.

Millwood was looking at the mine. The chain-link covering the shaft, in the dim back, was not complete. There was room to push a body through and down into the shaft. In the shadows he believed he saw an ancient pulley, which meant that the shaft was a vertical drop. He could simply shoot Shaw and shove the body into the darkness. Then—

No, wait…

That wouldn’t work. The sandbag man in the pickup truck had seen Fiona, and Millwood had asked about her. If Shaw went missing around here, Millwood could be linked to the death.

Then an idea: Shaw attacked him , and he fought back, getting the gun away. But Shaw grabbed a rock and kept coming. He was forced to shoot him.

Self-defense.

Fiona wouldn’t dare contradict him. If she did, he would explain, the first stop he’d make after getting out on bail would be to her mother or sister-in-law.

“Whatever you’re thinking, Millwood, it’s wrong.”

“Wrong? Fiona’s in the mine. You’re in the mine. You knew she was here. The facts speak for themselves.”

“I was helping her get away from you. She’s afraid of you. You’ve hurt her.”

That again.

“Only when she deserved it. People are fine when parents spank their children. Why shouldn’t a man be able to do the same with his woman? It’s only logical.”

“You cut yourself—fake defensive wounds. And lied to the police about it.”

Millwood shot a cold smile to Fiona. “Oh, sharing our secrets now, are you? That’s not very nice.”

Fiona whispered, “John, what are you going to do?”

A stunningly beautiful woman…but slow sometimes.

Millwood lifted the gun to Shaw’s chest and pulled the trigger.

In the dimness of the cave the flash from the muzzle was nearly blinding.