“I’m not lying.” Frankie squirmed in his grasp, and finally, she shoved his chest hard and ripped herself away from him. “You bastard! I know what you’re doing. I’m on to you and your games. You’re not going to get away with it this time. It won’t be like Merrilyn Somers.”

“Oh, come on, Frankie. I told you once before. You’re talking crazy.”

“You’re trying to do the same thing this time, aren’t you? You’re setting up someone else to take the fall.”

She saw the faintest nervousness in his eyes, as if she knew something she wasn’t supposed to know. She knew about Todd.

“I’m going to tell the police about you,” she added, even though they both knew it was a hollow threat. No matter how much she wanted to call Frost Easton and give him Darren’s name, she didn’t have enough evidence to say a word.

“You won’t do that. I know how it works. Your lips are sealed.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“No? Well, go ahead, tell them whatever you want, and when my lawyers get done with you, I’ll own that nice top-floor Tenderloin condo of yours.”

Frankie paled.

“Yes, I know where you live,” Darren went on. “I make it a point to know everything about the people in my life. And the thing is, I always liked you, Frankie. I really did. We made such a good team, you and me.”

“We were never a team.”

“Too bad, I always thought of us that way. I bet you’ve had a tough year without me around. How are things with Jason? God, it must be awful when all you can think about is me.”

She stared at him, openmouthed. She felt naked in front of him, as if he could see all her secrets.

“And then to lose your father, too,” Darren went on. “I saw his obituary.”

“Shut up,” she finally said.

“But you don’t really miss him, do you? I remember how you talked about him. You’re glad he’s dead.”

“Shut up.”

“How exactly did it happen, Frankie? The accident sounded so odd and tragic.”

She knew that he wanted her to boil over. He was manipulating her. Playing with her head. Nothing had changed. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let coldness flow through her again.

“Where do you take them, Darren?” she asked. She pointed at the locked door behind him. “Is it there? Is that where you torture them?”

“Do you want to see?”

“Yes.”

He dug keys out of his pocket, then beckoned Frankie closer with one finger. She kept a safe distance. He shoved the key in the lock and twisted, and he pushed the door inward.

“Go on,” he told her, standing in the doorway. “Take a look.”

“Get away from the door.”