“What . . . what the hell did you do? I mean, why would you do that?”

“Weren’t you listening to me? I kicked it in. I really didn’t want to do that, but we had to go with the element of surprise. And we didn’t want the women scooting out the front door. I didn’t have any other choice, Jason. The bottom line here is, Rosalee and Amalie are safe, and Lincoln Moss will never get to them, not in a million years. If it’s any consolation to you, they both wanted to leave a note for you and Stacey. Unfortunately, we could not allow that. That’s why I’m here, to put your mind at rest.”

Jason Woods swiped at the rain pelting his face. “I repeat, just who the hell are you people? Why should I trust you?”

“Maybe because I’m the only game in town? Does that work for you? Look, I didn’t have to come here to tell you all this. I could be home sleeping in a nice warm bed instead of standing here in the pouring rain. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m soaking wet, and these shoes I’m standing in cost five hundred bucks.”

Jason stared at Dennis for a long minute. Whatever he saw in his expression seemed to satisfy him, at least for the moment. “So, how long?”

“I don’t know, Jason. My best guess would be no more than two weeks. Possibly as soon as this weekend. There are a lot of things in play right now. Just trust me. Can you do that?”

Jason nodded. “What about Stacey? She stuck her neck out on all of this. Is she safe?” Jason realized something then to his own chagrin. He was more worried about Stacey than he was about Rosalee. Why was that?

“I want to say yes, but again, I don’t know. For now, my best advice would be for both of you to stick together. Don’t go anywhere alone.”

“You’re scaring the shit out of me, mister.”

“Good, that will keep you on your toes. Listen, I gotta go now.” Dennis held out a roll of bills. “Take it, you’re going to need it for your tuition. Sell the camping gear and keep the money. I’ll be in touch.”

Jason watched Dennis walk away in his sopping-wet five-hundred-dollar shoes. What kind of jerk paid five hundred dollars for shoes? He looked down at his beat-up Nikes. Hell, he didn’t even own a pair of leather shoes. He realized as he walked across the lot to the garden pavilion that he didn’t feel bad. He didn’t feel good, either. He headed for the break room to wait for Stacey. Five hundred dollars for a pair of shoes. Sheez.