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Who could do that? What kind of a person could kill a dog in cold blood?
The kind of person who could kill another human.
Ryan – whatever he was – was not who Mary thought. She had thought she knew him, but it turned out she knew nothing about him at all.
But another mystery remained. Why had he done it?
Why had he terrorized her? Why had he brought her here? To kill her? If he wanted to do that, he did not need to go to these lengths. He could have killed her at home. And why was Carl here? Was it an accident? Had Carl just followed her? No, that could not be the case. He would have no reason to be here, unless Ryan wanted him here.
And why would Ryan want that?
She looked away from her husband. She could hardly bear the sight of him. She was not a violent person. She generally saw the best in everyone – maybe not Dylan – and even when she was annoyed by someone she rarely wished them ill.
But at that moment if you had asked her whether Ryan should be torn limb from limb by a pack of slavering wolves, she would have nodded Yes, do it without a second thought.
And she would have enjoyed watching it.
How far back did this go? Months? Years? She felt a rage fire inside her. How dare he do this? How dare he, whatever his plan was, come into her life and then tear it apart?
At that moment she was powerless, but she made herself a promise. She would find a way out of this, and when she did she would make him pay.
But before that there was something she needed to know.
‘Ryan,’ she said. ‘Where are Otis and Sally?’
‘On their way,’ he said. ‘I told them you and I were going to see Gray Turner, and they should pack up then aim to arrive here around nine-thirty. That’s enough time for me to deal with you, and to get everything set up.’
She felt a cold fear at the realization that whatever he was planning included her kids.
‘Set up for what?’
‘You’ll find out.’
‘Please, Ryan. Do what you want to me, but don’t involve my children. They don’t deserve this.’
‘I’m afraid that’s not possible. They’re a crucial piece of the puzzle.’
‘Ryan, please. I’m begging you—’
‘Shut up,’ he said. ‘Shut your stupid fucking mouth.’
He moved towards her, the syringe in his hand, and the fear became a raging terror. She had to find a way to stop him, to keep him talking.
‘Ryan.’
He met her gaze. His eyes were blank, like the eyes of an animal contemplating its prey.
‘What?’
‘The question you put in one of the notes.’
‘Which question?’
‘Telling me to ask you the real reason you wanted to marry me.’
He smiled, the smile spreading across his lips, but not reaching his eyes.
‘I wondered whether you’d ask.’
