Standing beside him, Gibb silently studied the building, his arms folded, hat pushed back, expression thoughtful.
So others wouldn’t hear, Coop kept his voice low. “It was deliberately set.”
“I’d say so.”
They both watched as a female firefighter inspected the area where the fire originated. She’d already informed them that a flare, placed against paper and wood at the back of the building, had been deliberately set up. Apparently gasoline or some other accelerant had been splashed on the exterior walls.
The big question remained: Why?
Gibb’s eyes narrowed more. “Does Phoenix ever work this late?”
“No. And even if she did, she wouldn’t be at this end of the park alone at this time of night. We’ve discussed it, and while she considered the threats over, she agreed to be extra cautious.”
“So this wasn’t to trap her, then.”
Something, some odd sense of alarm, dug into Coop’s spine. He stiffened. Phoenix was alone now.
Gibb looked at him, a reciprocal unease on his face. “Where is she?”
“In my house.” Already turning, Coop took off at a run. He wouldn’t risk the motor on the golf cart possibly alerting their firebug to his approach. That is, if the man thought to get to Phoenix. If he’d set the fire to distract Coop.
If, if, if.
Why didn’t I keep her with me?
Fear left a sick churning in his gut, a cold sweat on the back of his neck. He heard Gibb calling to him as he darted in and around RVs, mindless of the privacy of others as he took the most direct path to the house.
Halfway up, he saw that the kitchen door was open. Oh, God.
A hand grabbed his arm and he turned, fist already cocked back.
“Don’t you dare!”
Ridley. He tried to shake her off. “I have to—”
Baxter grabbed his other arm. “Hold up one second, Coop.” He sounded strained, urgent. “We need to think about this.”
There was no time to think, no time to talk. “I have to get to her.”
“Agreed,” Baxter said. “But if you charge in, she could get hurt.”
The rationale sank into his pounding brain.
Ridley still held on to him as she spoke in rapid, jumbled chatter. “Sugar came to me. The poor little thing was frantic. Soon as I saw her, I knew something was wrong. Phoenix would never leave the door open for the dog to get out, so I put her with Maris and was ready to call you when Baxter showed up. Then we saw you running...” She stopped to inhale, sucking air. “What are we going to do?”
Gibb reached them. “I’m going up, the rest of you are going to stay here.”
“Like hell.” Coop shook them all off.
“Fuck,” Gibb growled, then quickly rallied before Coop could get far. “Fine—here’s a plan. I’ll go around to the front of the house, see if I can get in that way and come up behind him. You two cover the back. Do not barge in. That’s dangerous for everyone, including Phoenix.”
Coop started forward, making no promises at all. He’d do whatever was needed to keep Phoenix from being hurt.
Behind him, he heard Ridley and Baxter in hushed disagreement with each other, but a second later, Baxter caught up to him.
Staying low, they crept to the open kitchen door.
And then Coop saw it: Phoenix in her T-shirt and panties, her hair still tumbled from their exuberant sex, her expression pale and stoic behind her glasses.
Across from her stood a man as large as Coop himself, a face shield covering his face and neck.
In one beefy hand, he held a bed pillow, and in the other, he gripped a gun—aimed at Phoenix’s chest.
*
Even as she stared steadily at the masked man, Phoenix prayed. She prayed for herself, desperately wanting to live, and for Cooper. He needed her, she sensed that now. If something happened to her, if she died in violence as his wife had, would he be able to recover? Yes, he was a survivor, but by his own admission he’d retreated from life, hiding in the masses, living partially in the past with only memories to sustain him.
He deserved so much more than that.
He deserved everything.
If she lived through this, she’d see that he got it.
“You didn’t think I’d find you, did you? You thought you were safe now.”
The hard beating of her heart caused a physical ache in her chest. She shook her head. “Who are you?”
Though she couldn’t see his face, she heard the smirk in his voice when he said, “Come on, now, sweetheart. You’re not dumb. Who do you think?”
“Not David,” she said, confident about that. “Not Harry, either.” He was too big to be either of them... She gasped as shocking recognition clawed past her fear. In a strained whisper, she said, “You robbed me.”
“Now she’s catching on.”
She clutched the counter behind her with both hands, determined not to crumble. “There were two of you.”
He tilted his head in assent. “My friend has no spine, no sense of completing a task. I say fuck him.” His voice softened. “Just as I say fuck you.”
“But I did nothing to you!”
All calm fled him and he roared, “You got away!”
Flinching back from his anger, Phoenix tried to think, but drew a blank. At least Sugar wasn’t in danger since she’d fled out the open door in a panic. Maybe, with any luck, someone would notice the little dog, notice the open door and help would arrive in time.
“No one will save you this time,” he crooned, quashing her hopes. “The fire will keep everyone busy. I made sure of that.”
So it had all been part of a plan—a plan to kill her? “How did you get in?” Through the throbbing panic, she thought that if she could keep him talking, maybe she could buy some time.
“A window around front.” He strolled closer, his head tilted to the side, the gun getting closer and closer to her. “That entrance that’s never used, since it faces away from the park. I found that out my first day here—more than two months ago.”
“Here...in the resort?” Dear God. Knowing he’d been around that long sent shivers up her spine.
“It was easy to rent a spot in the primitive tent area.” His gaze moved over her and she became painfully aware that she wore only a T-shirt and panties. “Nice of you to welcome me like this.” He used the gun to gesture up and down her body. “Unnecessary, but appreciated all the same.”
Her breath strangled in her lungs. No, she wouldn’t play his sick game, wouldn’t uselessly attempt to cover herself or even reply to his crude comments. “You’ve been here all along?”
“In and out.” He stopped about ten feet from her. “Often enough to see the cop coming and going. I followed him when he went to talk to that punk, Harry, who, by the way, will have to go now that he knows what I look like.” In a vague voice, almost as an afterthought, he murmured, “I’ll be visiting that sad excuse for a man later tonight.”
Phoenix had never thought to feel sorry for Harry, but now she did. “Why did you talk to him?”
“To feel him out, and let me tell you, he doesn’t like you or your boyfriend. Blamed you both for sending me around.” Amusement entered his tone. “He spilled his guts with little prompting from me, complaining that anyone who could afford this camp setup should damn well be able to pay for a chicken.”
Phoenix almost groaned.
“Took me a bit to figure out that nonsense, but knowing your boyfriend owns the park factored into my end game. See, it makes sense that he’d run to greet the firefighters and take responsibility for his guests, right? And since he’s involved with you I figured he’d leave you behind. I wasn’t wrong, was I?” Voice smooth, he said, “You’re here, and he’s not.”
Phoenix was somewhat thankful for that. At least Cooper was safe.
A laugh, raw and mean, filled the air as he came closer still, the gun held down at his side. “But don’t delude yourself. I’m here now because I don’t leave loose ends. I’ll get him eventually. Maybe not right away, but—”