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question. “I thought if she were gone, you’d go back to normal, but you never did.”

The air fled the room in a whoosh, and everything went still. “What do you mean, ‘if she were gone’?”

“I meant after she was gone,” he stammered.

“No. You said if. Did you do something to her, Wayne? Did you kill our baby?”

He remained quiet and, in that instant, she knew. “You killed her, didn’t you?” she whispered, barely able to speak.

“What? No.” But it was unconvincing.

“You suffocated her. You killed her.” A slow rage began to burn.

“It was an accident, Annie. I swear. She was crying so much and I needed a minute of quiet. I thought if I put a pillow over her face for just a second, it would get her to stop. You were sleeping, and I didn’t want her to wake you,” he added, attempting to make his actions seem altruistic.

She exploded off the stool, which went flying backward, landing on the floor with a thud.

“Bullshit. You just said you were jealous of her, that she cried too much, that you’d thought about what would happen if she were dead. You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” she asked. Then screamed, “Didn’t you?”

“Jesus. Fine. Yes, I did. But she wouldn’t quit crying. I thought you’d be glad you didn’t have to deal with all that anymore.”

Her knees threatened to buckle. Suddenly, her weight was too much. The room began to spin, and she grabbed the countertop for support. He thought she’d be glad?

“Look, it happened. It’s over. Can’t you just forget about it?”

“You fucking asshole. No, I won’t just forget about it. You are going back to jail.”

“I can’t go back to jail, Annie. I won’t,” he said with menace. From nowhere, he pulled out a gun.

The hair on the back of her neck stood erect. This was a side of Wayne she’d never seen before. He’d killed their baby and was now holding her at gunpoint.

She had grossly underestimated him—how desperate he was and how dangerous he was. She no longer saw him as harmless. He appeared ready to do anything to not go back to prison. Did that include killing her? A red light pulsing in her head said yes!

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“Where did you get a gun?” she asked, aghast. He’d just gotten out of prison for God’s sake. What the hell was he doing with a gun? In Washington State? Holding her against her will? Was no one watching him?

“Friend lent it to me,” he said, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

She was furious about his admission, but fear was also making its way into her system. Fear she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what he’d done.

She had to get out of here. Now. She stood.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m leaving. You killed our daughter, and I won’t let you get away with it. I’m going to find someone to help me call the police.”

“Sit your ass down,” he commanded, pointing the gun at her head.

“What are you going to do? You can’t keep me here forever. Sooner or later, I’ll speak to someone, and then you’ll be in trouble.”

“Shut up!” he yelled. “I just need to think for a second.”

If she could get him to put down the gun, maybe she could grab it. Fighting him for it seemed dangerous, but options were running thin.

“Look, last chance, help me blackmail MacDonald, and then we’ll each take our cut and go our separate ways?”

“I told you, Sam’s off-limits.”

“Even with a gun to your head, literally, you’re gonna protect this guy? That’s just stupid, Annie. I could still go to the tabloids without you.”

“No one is going to believe a man in prison, and that’s where you’ll be. Plus, I’ll never corroborate the story, so you’ll just look like an idiot desperate for attention and money.”

“You’re the only one who knows about Avery. If you’re not around to tell anyone, I won’t go back to prison. Also, if you’re not around to refute my story about you and Sam, then no one will have any reason to doubt me on that either. Seems like you are my problem, Annie.” His lips curled into a sneer.

“What are you going to do? Kill me and bury my body in the backyard? Eventually, they’d find me, and Sam and Beckie both know you’re back in town and looking for me. You’d be suspect number one right away.”

“Yeah, but I could get to that thousand dollars and be in Mexico by then,” he said a little too calmly.

His coolness unnerved her. He wasn’t just an asshole. He was a dangerous, murderous asshole. He’d killed their daughter and an innocent man and took no responsibility, nor showed any remorse for either life. Everything was always someone else’s fault. Could he be a psychopath? Or sociopath? Which was it that had no guilt or shame?

“Why don’t you just leave now and do that? Killing me would only complicate things,” she reasoned. She needed to buy some time to think of a plan. A way to get out of this alive and still have Wayne held accountable for his actions.

“You would have the police after me the second I left,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Of course I would. If you think I’m going to let you waltz out of here to live a life on the beach in Mexico, you’re dead wrong.”

He pointed the gun at her once more.

“You could really just stand there and shoot me?”

“You’re not leaving me any choice, Annie. I can’t go back to prison. I just can’t.”

“Of course, it’s my fault you’re going to shoot me. God, you’re pathetic.”

“Where do you keep the shovels?” he asked as if the question held no more menace than asking her to pass the butter at dinner.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she screamed. “Next, you’ll be asking me to dig my own grave so you won’t have to put in the effort. I don’t own a shovel, Wayne. You’ll have

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