Edge of Darkness (Romantic Suspense #20)
Karen Rose
About Karen Rose
Karen Rose was introduced to suspense and horror at the tender age of eight when she accidentally read Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum and was afraid to go to sleep for years. She now enjoys writing books that make other people afraid to go to sleep.
Karen lives in Florida with her family, their cat, Bella, and two dogs, Loki and Freya. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, and her new hobby – knitting.
For all my readers. Thank you for allowing me to have the job
of my dreams and for loving my characters as much as I do.
As always, for Martin.
Acknowledgements
Terri Bolyard, for listening while I talked myself free of plot snarls.
Marc Conterato, for all things medical.
Caitlin Ellis, Sarah Hafer and Beth Miller, proofreaders extraordinaire.
Amy Lane for all the knitting.
Geoff Symon, for his crime scene advice.
The Starfish – Chris, Cheryl, Sheila, Susan, Kathy, and Brian – for helping me stay on track.
As always, all mistakes are my own.
Prologue
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Friday 18 December, 11.15 P.M.
Andy’s body jerked and his eyes flew open. His own shiver had woken him up. Cold. He was so damn cold. So move, dammit. Get your blood—
His memory returned and with it, a mind-blowing panic.
He couldn’t move. He was tied up. Someone had tied him up and left him here. Wherever here was.
Scream, dammit. Scream for help. He drew a deep breath into his lungs that burned like fire, and his body shook in a fit of hoarse coughing.
No, he remembered. Don’t scream. His head still throbbed from the last time. He’d woken once before and screamed. How long ago? It had been dark then. It was dark now.
The man had come when he’d screamed. Dressed in black. Of course. Didn’t the bad guys always dress in black?
Because this was a bad guy. Andy had screamed for help. For anyone. But guy-in-black had kicked him in the head so hard he’d seen stars. That had shut him up quick.
That wasn’t what had put him back to sleep, though. No. He fought to swallow because his fear was a living thing, filling his chest with ice, choking his throat. The man had brought a smelly rag with him and had covered Andy’s face with it. He’d tried not to breathe it in, but the man had aimed a hard punch to his gut, forcing him to gasp in a breath along with whatever was on the rag.
Just like in the alley.
Yes, yes. Andy remembered the alley now, the one behind Pies & Fries. He’d been on his break and had gone out for a smoke. Someone had been waiting. It had been dark already and Andy hadn’t seen the guy until he’d lit a match and even then he hadn’t seen a face. Or a body. The sudden flare from his match and the shadow at the edge of his peripheral vision was all he’d seen.
Who did this to me? Why? He didn’t have enemies. Not anymore. Not here, anyway.
He’d started over. He had.
And now he was going to die here. Wherever here is, he thought bitterly.
I’ll miss my final exams, and I had As. Even in English Lit. He’d worked so damn hard for that A too.
Which did not matter right now. None of that mattered right now.
I need to get out of here. Before he comes back. Whoever he is.
I need to get out of here. Need to find Linnie. Never told her that I love her. Need to tell her. Need to tell her that I didn’t mean it. Any of it. They’d had a fight. He’d said terrible things. She’d think he meant the things he’d said. That he’d run away. Like everyone else in her life. Like everyone in both their lives.
I made a mistake. It couldn’t have been her that he’d seen that day. With another man. She’d denied it so forcefully when he’d screamed his accusations. His rage. His hurt. She’d backed away, weeping, still denying. Then she’d fled. And I let her go.
And then, when his temper had calmed, he’d believed her. She wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t. I believe you. But he hadn’t told her. Not yet. Unless I get out of here, I never will.
He struggled against the ropes that bound him, wrists and ankles, but all it did was burn his flesh. He collapsed into a heap on the cold concrete, barely holding back the sob that threatened to rip him up from the inside out. It came out a whimper. A teeny little whimper.
Be a fucking man, dammit. Do something. Save yourself.
But it was no use. I’m going to die here.
You can’t die here. You’ve come too far. Fought too damn hard.
For nothing. I’m going to die here.
He was so cold. He could feel the icy concrete through his thin sweater and socks. They’d taken his parka and his shoes. Both were new too. New to me, anyway. He’d bought them at the thrift store just last week. He’d paid his spring tuition and had just enough left over to buy some winter clothes. Because nothing from the year before fit anymore.
Because I finally grew. He’d waited for years to be big enough to fight back. Finally, he was. And some asshole shoves a smelly rag in my face and I’m down for the fucking count.
Who? Who could do this? Who the fuck would want to? It wasn’t robbery. After he’d bought the parka and shoes at the thrift store, he’d only had twenty bucks in his pocket – and those were his tips from the dinner rush. Everything else – all one hundred forty-two dollars and six cents that he had left in the world – was in his checking account.
Nobody in his right mind would want to rob him and the one person who hated his guts was in jail.
That sick bitch was in jail, wasn’t she? New panic layered over the old. The judge had sent her away for fifteen years. It had only been three.
Oh God. If she gets out, I’m dead. Andy began to pant, hyperventilating. The cops would have told him, right?
No, genius, because they don’t know where you are either. You ran away, remember? Changed your name. Didn’t leave a forwarding address.
The only people who knew where he was were Shane and Linnie. Linnie . . . she’d never want to see him again, he thought, closing his eyes. The things I said . . . I’m so sorry.
Shane would always come if Andy called. But Andy hadn’t called. Hadn’t returned any of Shane’s calls after they’d gone their separate ways. Because I wanted to start over.
Just like Shane had. Shane was never afraid.
A tear spilled from his eye and trickled down Andy’s face. I’m not going to live to see the morning.
Not if they kept him out here all night. He’d freeze to death.
Do something. Be a damn man. Find a way to cut these ropes before he comes back and makes you breathe from that smelly rag again.
Find a way to get free so you can find Linnie. So you can tell her.
There was nothing on the floor that he could use to get free. No metal with a sharp edge. No plastic, even. Not even one rock. Nothing.
It was just concrete with rough wooden walls. Someone had slapped some planks together to make a shack. There was no mortar or fiberglass or anything between the planks – nothing to keep out the cold. It was just going to get worse.
Andy went still when he heard the snap of a twig outside. Someone was coming.
Maybe it was help. Maybe they’ve come to take me home.
But then the door opened and his heart sank. It was the man again, still dressed in black. Without a word, the man picked him up and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
Pain radiated through Andy’s head. The rest of his body was so cold it was numb. He saw the ground pass under his feet as the man carried him across a yard covered in the thin layer of snow that had fallen two days before. His body was jostled as the man opened a door and . . .
Oh my God. Warm. It was so warm. His feet were on fire with the worst pins and needles ever as the blood began to circulate. Another whimper escaped his throat.
‘Put him down there,’ a voice said quietly. Male. Older. So menacing that Andy shivered again.