Don't Look (Pike, Wisconsin #1) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,119

disbelief. “Surely she didn’t realize—”

“She saw the bruises, but she just kept doing it.” He cut through her protest with an icy fury. “As if she took pleasure in knowing she was causing me pain.”

Lynne quickly nodded. Not just to pacify Parker. The truth was that she couldn’t be sure the older woman hadn’t taken some perverse pleasure in knowing she was condemning a little boy to violent beatings. Ms. Randall had a mean streak that had made her classroom a misery for all the kids unfortunate enough to have her as a teacher.

“What about Nash?” She asked the question that had been nagging at her since she’d realized the killer was Parker Bowen.

“Ah, Nash.” There was an ugly edge in his voice. “The great Nash Cordon. Star football player. Local golden boy. I hated him.”

“Why?”

“Do you remember me?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple question.” The words were snapped out, hitting Lynne like the crack of a whip. “Do you remember me?”

Her mouth went dry. Did she lie? It obviously was important to Parker. But then again, he might be laying a trap. What if she said yes and he started quizzing her on the past?

At last she went with the easiest answer. “No, I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”

“Of course not.” A darkness flared in the depths of the gray eyes. “I was the mouse. The shadow in the corner.”

“It wasn’t you,” she hurriedly protested. “I didn’t pay attention to anyone. I had a few friends who I would hang out with, but my mother wasn’t around so I never had birthday parties or sleepovers. I didn’t really fit in.”

He slowly nodded. “Yes, you were different from the others.”

“Were you in my class?” she demanded, scrambling through her memories for any hint of a Carl Frey.

There was nothing. He truly had been a shadow.

“Two years back.” He shrugged. “At least when I was allowed to go to school. My mom would yank me out and pretend I was being homeschooled whenever my father was at his most violent. I think she was afraid someone might call the authorities and have me taken away. She didn’t have to worry. No one made the call.” A flush was crawling beneath his skin, as if he was beginning to lose control of his emotions. “And after we were kicked out of the trailer park, we moved to a cabin outside town. It made it even easier for my mom to find excuses not to take me to school.”

Lynne didn’t allow herself to think of the horrors he must have endured as a child. He’d grown up to become a monster. Once she assumed had brought her to this remote location to slit her throat and dump her body in the snow. Her only emotion should be determination to escape.

“I still don’t understand why you killed Nash.”

“He was everything I wanted to be, but did he appreciate what he had?” The flush on Parker’s face darkened at the mention of the older man. “No. He pissed it away on a cheap bar filled with regrets.”

Lynne blinked. He killed Nash because he didn’t think he appreciated his life. “That’s . . .”

“Insane?” His flashed a too-white smile, his eyes glittering with a hunger that he’d managed to hide until this moment. “I told you I’m broken.”

Lynne dug her heels into the cement. She was going to have to try to make her move. But first she had one question that had to be answered. Otherwise it would haunt her for the rest of her life. Well, what remained of her life, anyway.

“Why me?” she demanded. “I’ve never done anything to hurt you.”

He lifted his brows. “Just the opposite. You showed me a kindness I never forgot.”

Okay. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “I did?”

“Yes.” His smile softened until it appeared almost genuine. “I was seven, maybe eight years old and I found a stray puppy. I knew my dad would never let me keep it, so I hid it in an empty shed near the school. Every morning I would visit and bring him food.” His smile faded. “One morning my dad caught me stealing bacon and forced me to take him to where I’d hidden the puppy. He was going to kill him when you passed by.”

Lynne stiffened in surprise as the memory of that morning rose from the recesses of her mind. She’d been walking to school when she’d seen the man holding the squirming puppy by the scruff of the neck. He’d been