Love you to Death by Shannon K. Butcher Page A

perfection was real and waiting for him to make the first move.
    Gary finished updating her records and watched as she walked away, each stride fluid and graceful. When she was finally out of sight, he took the slip of paper with Gloria’s new address on it and slid it into his pocket.
    If she hadn’t wanted him to come visit her tonight, she wouldn’t have left her address behind. She may not have shown it, but he had a feeling that she wanted him as much as he did her. There was probably something in her that had sensed the kind of man he was, the kind of things he liked to do to women.
    Wendy had been drawn to that darker side of him. She’d liked the pain he gave her.
    Gloria would, too.

C HAPTER F OUR

    S tupid, foolhardy, brainless woman.
    Trent’s feet still burned from stomping all the way home, and that had been twenty minutes ago. It was good she didn’t want him around. He didn’t want to watch her self-destruct. Hearing about her foolish plan was bad enough.
    The cold shower he’d taken hadn’t done anything to cool off his frustration with her and her “plan.”
    He turned on the TV to drown out the instincts that were screaming at him to stop her. It wasn’t his business. If she wanted to throw herself on a fire, she could. He didn’t care.
    Or at least, he wished he didn’t.
    His hair was still wet when he sat down with his microwaved TV dinner. It was nearly seven, and the last few minutes of the news droned on while he waited for the next show to start. He needed to get his mind off Elise, and TV was easy. He’d been leaning on the thing for years as a means of distraction.
    The anchor came on, her voice perfectly modulated to somber professionalism. “And for those of you who might be tuning in late, please take a look at this photo. Ashley McBride went missing from her Haven, Illinois, home sometime late Friday.”
    Trent looked up from his food to see a recent photo of Ashley glowing bright on the TV. Her face was frozen in a laugh and there was a smear of blue paint on one cheek.
    “If you’ve seen her, or have any information that might lead to her whereabouts, please call the Crime Stoppers line.”
    The image cut to Elise, standing in front of Ashley’s house. Several microphones were thrust in her face, but she ignored them and looked directly into each camera, one at a time. When her gaze connected with this station’s camera, Trent’s breath swelled in his chest. He felt like she was pleading with him personally. Sunlight glinted off the streaks of tears sliding down her cheeks. Her voice wavered with emotion, but she held steady, saying what needed to be said. “I’m offering a reward of ten thousand dollars to anyone who can help the police find my sister. Please, if you know anything, call the Crime Stoppers Hotline. I need to—” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “If you want to remain anonymous, that’s fine. I just want to know where she is so I can bring her home.”
    She’d said more, but the story was already aging, and she was cut off before she finished. The reporter repeated the Crime Stoppers Hotline number and moved on to the next bit of news they wanted to shove in before the last few seconds of airtime were gone.
    Trent sat there with the image of Elise’s grief-stricken face burned into his retinas. He wanted to help her, to make it all go away. He wanted to find Ashley and bring her home safe and sound.
    He missed being a cop, missed helping people so much it felt like part of him had been gouged out and the open wound left bleeding.
    If only he’d been more careful. Smarter.
    Hell.
    Trent dropped his fork and shoved the TV tray away. No way was he going to be able to eat now, not with all that guilt swirling around in his gut.
    He went to the kitchen for some antacids and stared across the street. Through Ashley’s sheer curtains he could see Elise’s shadow moving around in the living room, likely trying to