Her steps slowed as she dug into her purse for her keys. The damned things were always getting lost in the bottom of her bag. Finally her fingers closed around them and she eased a relieved sigh from her lungs. A second later her breath hitched.
“Megan.”
Her head swung toward the familiar voice. Rich. Heart hammering, she stopped in her tracks and rotated her gaze in his direction. He was dressed in dark tones, gray or perhaps black, the color making him barely distinguishable from the shadows filling the parking lot. From the way his clothes fit his powerful physique, she guessed he wore one of the expensive suits he favored. Leave it to Richard Lowell to be impeccably tailored while on the run.
She was struck once again how much his features matched Will’s. Yet after getting to know the real Will Sanders these past few months, Megan couldn’t believe she’d ever been taken in by this monster. And yet the proof that she had occupied her finger. How could she have been so stupid?
Shame flared, attacking her confidence even as her “husband” advanced from her right, moving to get between her and the Porsche. Too late she realized her danger. Terror blazed. What a fool she’d been to stay so late and then leave on her own.
“What are you doing here?” Despite her bone-chilling fear, she was proud of her strong tone. “What do you want?”
“I want you. The only reason I came back is to convince you to come away with me.”
His words sent a spasm of revulsion through her. She rocked back, knowing there was nowhere to run. In her five-inch heels she’d never make it back to the building before he overtook her.
She stood her ground and made sure he couldn’t see her fear. “What do you mean?”
“You’re my wife. We belong together.”
The deepening twilight made his expression hard to read, so Megan wasn’t sure if he actually believed this or if he was enacting some twisted game to terrorize her.
“I’m not your wife.”
Yet as bravely as she declared the words, she wasn’t sure that was true. She’d married him. Richard Lowell. She might have sworn to love, honor and cherish Will Sanders, but she’d stood before this man, looked him in the eye and pledged to be with him forever. The reality had crippled Megan’s confidence these last few months.
“You are,” Rich countered, his tone harsh. “You love me.”
“I fell in love with Will Sanders.”
Was she imagining the rage transforming Rich or had she picked up on subtle body language, clues that made her brace for an act of violence. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d put his hands on her.
Looking back over their time together, Megan wondered how she’d ever believed he could be Will. The two men were nothing alike. Yet she’d made one excuse for another for his mood swings and quick temper. She’d been a fool to avoid looking past the surface resemblance and not recognizing that this man’s soul was tainted with poison.
“You fell in love with me. I was the man in your bed. The one you couldn’t get enough of.” He took several menacing steps in her direction. “Do you remember how you gasped my name as you came?”
Summoning her waning bravado, Megan declared, “I called Will’s name. Not yours.”
“I was Will. Your Will.” His right hand balled into a fist but his arm remained rigid at his side. “The only Will Sanders who would have you.”
Even as she absorbed Rich’s verbal blow, Megan’s instincts warned her to keep her attention on Rich’s hands in case he made any sudden moves in her direction. She carefully shifted her stance and put her feet shoulder width apart for better balance. If he tried to grab her, she wanted to make sure she was ready to dodge.
“But you aren’t Will Sanders,” she declared, standing her ground. “And you’re nothing like him.”
Her instincts screamed at her to shut up. He was a murderer and she was alone in a dark parking lot with no one to come to her rescue.
“No. I’m better.” Bragging about his superiority caused the tension to ease from Rich’s posture but his tone remained razor-sharp. “I was always smarter than him. The difference between us was that I didn’t get a fortune handed to me on a silver platter. I had to work for everything I got.”
And Megan suspected that was where Rich’s obsession began. Maybe this was something they had in common. She had endured her own bout of fascination with Will during high school. Only, in Rich’s case, admiration had twisted into the darkest sort of jealousy.
“Why did you kill my brother?” While bringing up his crime was the height of foolishness, Megan needed answers.
“Jason asked too many questions and discovered too much.”
“So you killed him.” The declaration rasped from her raw throat as grief nearly overwhelmed her. “Are you planning on killing me, too?”
“I could never harm you. You belong to me.”
“I don’t belong to you,” she shot back, the very idea filling her with dread. But then curiosity got the better of her once more. For months she’d brooded over why he’d picked her. Had he glimpsed some weakness and exploited it? “Was it all just a big game for you?”
He didn’t answer but she sensed she’d surprised him. Whether by her question or the bitterness with which she’d delivered it, Megan didn’t know.
“Come with me and I’ll show you how important you are to me.”
His cajoling tone transported her to those first days of their courtship when he’d swept aside her reservations with a barrage of romantic words and sweet gestures. Her treacherous heart began to pound. She knew her feelings for Rich were based on a farce, but opening herself to love had transformed her.
Where once she’d avoided romance and sentimentality, falling for “Will Sanders” had been magical and had filled her with wonder. To have it all eventually turn to dust had returned her heart to a Popsicle.
Megan shook her head. “You’ve lost your mind if you think I’d leave town with you.”
Little by little during their exchange, Megan’s right hand had been making slow progress toward the side pocket in her purse where she kept the pistol she’d bought in case of an encounter just like this one. Neither its compact size nor its pink-pearl grip detracted from the gun’s reliability and stopping power. She’d bought the pistol in the days following Will’s reappearance in Royal. Living alone and working late, she’d imagined this scenario hundreds of times, but now that she was here, Megan wondered if she was equipped to shoot Rich in cold blood.
“My life is here,” she continued, thumbing off the safety and curving her fingers around the grip as Rich took a step in her direction.
“Your life is here...or is it all about Will?” Rich sneered. “You’re a fool if you think he could ever love you. I’ve seen you with him and know why you haven’t filed for divorce. You’re hoping he’ll eventually come to love you. But that won’t happen.”
“You don’t know anything.” Driven by emotions she couldn’t define, Megan pulled out the gun and pointed at him. “Don’t come any closer.”
Rich’s eyes widened satisfactorily before he began to laugh. “You’re not seriously going to shoot me with that tiny thing?”
“I won’t if you back off and let me go.” She tried to ignore how badly her hands were shaking and hoped Rich wouldn’t notice. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“We’ll