But Skye was already gone.
* * *
Lila wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to stop the shaking. She stood in the shadows of the Sundowner Motel, the run-down establishment they had stayed in last night. The morning was chilly. The moist air seemed to stick in her lungs. A few feet away, Daniel loaded her carry-on into the back of the SUV.
She squeezed her eyes shut as Dutch and Beeker loaded the second SUV, sliding a rolled-up blue plastic tarp in the back that Harley and Dutch had stolen last night from a True Value hardware store in Angel Fire, a town twelve miles way.
They’d also taken cleaning supplies: a mop, bleach, and paper towels to clean up the blood on the floor of the room where Riley and Stella had been staying.
The room where Riley had killed her.
Lila’s throat swelled. She shuddered at the memory of the argument that had gone on next door in the middle of the night. She was sure Beeker had started it. Stella was too cowed to stand up for herself, and Beeker had a mean streak far more dangerous than any of the other men.
He would stir up trouble on purpose just to have an excuse to hit her. Stella didn’t mix his drink the way he wanted it. He didn’t like the way she was wearing her hair. It could have been anything. Beeker was all about using his fists, even though Daniel disapproved.
Quiet returned after the argument, but Lila was wide awake when the knock came at the door. Daniel slid out of bed and went to open it. She caught a glimpse of Riley, Harley, and Dutch standing outside. Daniel spoke to them for a moment, his voice low but hissing with displeasure.
“What happened?” Lila asked when Daniel returned.
“There’s been an accident. Harley’s handling it. They’ll need your help when they get back.”
“An accident? What kind of accident?”
“Riley and Stella got into an argument. Stella fell and hit her head on the bathroom sink. I’m afraid she’s dead.”
“Oh, my God!”
Daniel gripped her arms and shook her. “Pull yourself together. Dutch and Harley are going after supplies. They’ll deal with the problem when they get back. They’ll need your help cleaning up, but aside from that, this has nothing to do with you.”
Lila bit her tongue to keep the scream locked in her throat. Sarah was dead. Now Stella. Who knew how many other victims there had been—or would be?
She could be next.
And something else had happened. In the chaos since the raid on the compound, worry about being late for the last two months had slipped her mind. But as she got back into bed, she couldn’t deny it any longer. She was pregnant with Raul’s child. She was carrying her husband’s baby.
Whatever had happened to him, whatever his reasons for abandoning her, once she had loved him. She wanted his baby. She would protect it with her life.
Curled up in the darkness, she pulled up the covers and pretended to sleep. An eternity later, a second firm knock sounded.
“Get dressed,” Daniel said. “You’re needed next door.”
Lila pulled on her jeans, sweater, and boots with trembling hands. When she walked into the seedy motel room next door, the coppery smell of blood hit her like a brick. She gagged, ran to the toilet, and threw up the cheeseburger she’d had for supper earlier that night. Threw up again before she regained control.
“We’ll leave you to it,” Dutch said, his red hair flaming in the harsh overhead light. “Let us know when you’re done.” Dutch went outside and closed the door.
Lila swallowed against a fresh round of sickness. She could do this. She had to. She had a child to think of now.
Fresh tears blurred her vision as she got down on her hands and knees on the cold tile of the bathroom floor. There was blood everywhere: in the shower, on the walls, a spray of it across the sink. From the corner of her eye, she could see a rolled-up blue tarp in the other room that contained Stella’s body.
She stifled a whimper and wiped the wetness off her cheeks. Holding her breath against the smell of death, she went to work. Stella never had a chance. Not with men like these.
But Lila was tougher. Smarter. No matter what it took, she was going to stay alive for her baby. She wasn’t going to let Daniel Henson win.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE MORNING WAS SLIPPING AWAY ASSKYE DROVE HER METALLICred Subaru Forester over to her brother’s apartment. She wanted to talk to Callie, make sure she was holding up all right. Last night, Edge had texted Callie the picture he’d taken with his cell phone, the photo of Rolland Beekman, aka Riley Beeker, with his mother.
Callie had replied that Beekman looked pretty much the same as he had at the compound, though his mouse-brown hair was even longer, and now he wore a close-cropped beard.
