Riiight. I’m the woman who murdered her husband and a police officer. Bitterness filled her mouth. “I’m sure.”

Zander gently pushed Lindsey down on the couch beside Dixon and set his hip on the armrest beside her. Staying close and staying mobile, she knew.

Stan took an empty chair directly across from Lindsey and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “You sent Bonner an e-mail attachment of Victor Parnell raping a boy.”

The thought was enough to make her sick, but she nodded.

“Bonner had already been looking into your husband’s and the young officer’s murders. He’d noticed the investigation was somewhat…irregular, and after talking with Simon, he’s very interested in knowing more. Since I’m stationed in San Francisco, I volunteered to drive here this morning and talk to you.”

And arrest me too. Her hands closed into fists as despair started to weigh her down.

His gray eyes met hers. “Lindsey, did you kill the police officer?”

“What? No.”

“Didn’t think so.” He leaned back.

Wait. Wait. “You believe me?”

“I’m good at detecting liars.” His smile transformed his face from stern to gorgeous, and she heard Dixon give a small sigh.

To her surprise, Stan’s gaze shifted to Dixon with sufficient appreciation to send her gaydar dinging. The agent liked her Dixon? Hold on one cotton-picking minute. Dix had been through enough. Lindsey put her hand on top of Dixon’s and gave the man a narrow-eyed stare as a warning.

He tilted his head in acknowledgment, and she had to give him props for picking up on her unspoken threat. He continued, “Bonner plans to interview your sisters, by the way.”

Oh God, would he arrest Melissa and Mandy for aiding and abetting or something? “They don’t know anything. They don’t.”

He gave Simon an amused glance. “Like I said…”

When Zander chuckled, she looked up at him in surprise.

“You really are a lousy liar,” Zander said.

She frowned. Should she take his comment as an insult or a compliment? “Well. Now what?”

“Simon told me the encryption on the jump drives from your husband’s safe has been broken. I’d like permission to go through the information. Do I have it?”

Her heart skipped a beat. The last time an agent wanted those drives, she’d almost died. If he confiscated them… They were her only proof Victor had been a criminal. “I—”

He studied her for a minute before rubbing his forehead wearily. “Let’s take a step back. Simon says you talked with a border patrol agent who worked for Parnell. Tell me about it.”

She pulled her legs up onto the couch, huddling into herself. “I—”I don’t know you.

“Lindsey, I can’t reassure you unless I hear everything,” he said quietly. His eyes were level.

Simon nodded at her.

Zander set his hand on her shoulder, holding her to the course and steadying her at the same time. She wasn’t alone. “In San Antonio, I called the border patrol and got Agent Orrin Ricks.”

Stan took out a pad and started making notes.

“He sounded like he believed me. And he was worried I’d get ambushed if I came to his office, so he told me to meet him at a safe house. The place was in a nice neighborhood, but I was so paranoid, I parked a few houses down. Agent Ricks let me into the house.”

Stan frowned. “You didn’t give him the drives?”

“I didn’t have them. When I got out of my car, there were a bunch of men on the sidewalk—all in suits and ties and stuff.” She attempted a smile. “I was so nervous, I left my purse in the car and ran to the house before I realized they were Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses or something.”

“Got it. So Agent Ricks talked to you?”

“He seemed nice at first. Professional.” Tall, bullishly muscular like a weight lifter. He had narrow eyes, straight red-brown hair in a conservative style. Polite. Her mother would have considered him adequate son-in-law material. “He asked me about everything. Then he pulled his gun.”

“Jesus,” Zander muttered. His hand tightened on her shoulder.

She swallowed, remembering how the pistol had seemed so huge. How her skin had flinched away. “He called Travis to report he had me and that Victor had probably put incriminating recordings on the flash drives. During their arguing, he said he’d collect the drives from me, but it was Travis’s job to dispose of me.” She halted, unable to face the next part. So she wouldn’t. “When I got away, I—”

“No, pet.” Zander shook her shoulder lightly. “Yesterday, you refused to talk about this. Today we need to hear it.”

“But…”

His expression held the frightening combination of a Dom’s sympathy…and determination. “All of it, Lindsey.”

Even as she pushed at his hand, his command helped. She wanted to tell someone—needed to—if only it hadn’t been so difficult. Staring at her fingers, she forced the words out. “Agent Ricks said since Travis would kill me, he might as well have fun first. He knocked me down. Kicked me so I couldn’t breathe.” Couldn’t scream.

She had to stop and swallow back the sickness. “I fought.” But he hit me and hit me. “He unzipped my jeans and…” The words wouldn’t come.

“Go on, pet,” Simon said softly. Yet when she managed to look up at him, she saw his expression was filled with rage.

“Before he could—the doorbell rang, and I could hear voices. It was the people who’d been in the van.” She realized she was rubbing the scar on the back of her right hand. The big one. “When he put his hand over my mouth, I poked my fingers at his eyes, and he let me go, and I dove through the front window and ran.”

Zander took her arm and pushed her sweater sleeve up, showing the scars. “Did glass cause these?”

“Uh-huh. When I covered my face, the glass ripped my arms instead.” She paused. “I terrified the religious people. They were calling and running toward me. Probably to help, but I panicked. I ran and didn’t realize till I got to the car that I was all bloody.”

The sound Zander made was sheer fury. “Did you go to a hospital?”

She shook her head. “I was too scared. I used socks to stop the bleeding and went to a drugstore. Got a ton of butterfly strips and gauze and antibiotic ointment.” She frowned at the scars. Did they bother him?

He ruffled her hair. “Smart girl. He’d have found you otherwise.”

“Did Ricks give chase at all?” Stan asked.

“Uh-uh. He didn’t even open the door. The religious guys didn’t even know he was there. Heck, they probably figured I was some druggie burglarizing the house.”

“You’ve provided a pretty damning statement of Ricks’s involvement with smuggling.” Stan sighed. “I’ll tell Bonner. And I can see why you’re wary about agents.” He stared at the fire for a moment before looking at her. “How about this—Simon will stay with me while I go through the evidence. Once I know what’s there, we’ll talk some more.”

“I want to see what these guys look like.” Zander stroked her hair. “Will you be comfortable if Dixon stays with you?”

“I’ll let you beat me at pool if you make me a margarita afterward.” Dixon bumped his shoulder into hers.

Dix was a terrible pool player. She gave a tiny laugh. “You’re on.”

***

After beating Dixon at pool and mixing him a couple of drinks—and having some herself—Lindsey pushed all her worries into a corner of her mind. This might be her last chance to hang out with friends; damned if she’d spend it huddled in her cabin.

In the kitchen, Rona was sitting with Jake’s wife, Kallie, at the long center table. Standing at the counter, mixing something, Becca said, “I heard an awful lot of moaning. Did Dixon lose the game?”

“He is one whiny loser.” And he’d gone out of his way to keep her spirits up, bless his heart. A ton of alcohol was bubbling in her bloodstream. “What can I help with?”

“How about cutting up carrots for the salad.” Becca started to hand over a knife and had it plucked away by Rona.

“I don’t think so.” When Rona pointed to a chair, Lindsey obediently sat. “Alcohol and knives—not a good combination.”

“Maybe not for cooking.” Kallie patted her shoulder. “However, from what Logan said you went through, I think you deserve all the liquor you can get.”

“And we’ll keep you company,” Becca said, her eyes warm with sympathy. She held up her spoon. “Since we’ll be playing in Jake’s dungeon, make sure it will wear off by tonight. Perhaps a glass of Bailey’s for now?” Receiving assenting nods, she poured three hefty drinks, and a smaller one for herself.

When Lindsey looked surprised, Becca nodded to the baby monitor. “Can’t indulge much these days; probably not until he goes to college.”

“It definitely puts a crimp in ever getting drunken sex,” Rona said, amused.

“Logan mentioned you weren’t playing in the main lodge anymore.” Before Becca got pregnant, the Serenity Lodge had specialized in “special” parties where a swing or BDSM or leather club might rent all the cabins and take over the place. And last summer, Lindsey had enjoyed the dungeon party held in the lodge.

“Nope. With Ansel here, we’re going mainstream.” Becca grinned. “We can’t use the lodge for play parties if there are non-BDSM people renting cabins. Like this weekend, besides the Dark Haven group, we have an older couple and two single men who’ve rented cabins—all vanilla-straight.”

“The guests are why Jake designed a good-size underground dungeon when we built our house.” Kallie waggled her eyebrows. “It’s really well soundproofed.”

“The parties are smaller, but at least we still can play,” Becca said.