“But she got away,” Myra pointed out, and he nodded, as if she could see him, then nearly missed the turnoff from this backwoods road to the cabin. Wrenching on the wheel, he swore under his breath and nearly dropped the damned phone. His van skidded, narrowly missing a fence post.

“Look, I gotta go,” he said.

“Find her.”

“I will.”

“And don’t kill the other one until you have the first,” she reminded him, disgust evident in her dulcet voice. In his mind’s eye he saw those ruby-colored lips curled in repulsion. “There has to be order.”

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll fix things.”

“You’d better,” she said, and it was nearly a threat. He felt his blood begin to boil, the way it always did when she pushed him too hard. “You don’t have a choice.” And then she was silent. As she was so often.

“Bitch,” he whispered, not caring that he hadn’t actually heard her click off. Tossing the phone onto the seat, he felt the familiar storm roil within. This is how it had always been with Myra, for as long as he could remember, and yet he loved her, had always loved her. That was the sick thing about their relationship. She took him and his love for granted. If he were smart, he’d get rid of her, too. She knew far too much, pulled his strings much too tightly.

He slowed, left the van idling in Park, and climbed out. The scent of the river and forest was strong here, climbing up his nostrils, burrowing deep in his chest. Pausing for a moment to look for stars and spying only a few, he took a couple of deep breaths, shook off Myra’s tirade, and unlocked the twisted gate. He’d have to fix it. Before Myra got a peek at the nearly ruined bars.

It took a little effort to force the bent latch into place, but he managed, locking himself in and climbing behind the wheel again.

Myra’s words still stung, hot as a bald-headed hornet’s bite. Jesus, he should just off her. She made him crazy. Even now, driving along the ruts leading to the cabin, the dry grass bending and scraping the undercarriage of his van, he felt sweat collect on his hands. With an effort, he tried to turn his thoughts from Myra. He couldn’t let her get under his skin, not when he had so much work to do.