Advokat husband no matter what my mother said, and you wanted more than that nice muttonhead Garrett Byrne no matter what your father said. I encouraged you to aim higher because I wanted to see you soar. It was a pleasure to watch.”
“I don’t believe you, Anna.” Jordan said it defiantly, but inside she flinched. “Anna, Anneliese, Lorelei, whatever you call yourself.”
“I hate that name.” A shiver. “Lorelei. Like rusalka. Another water witch.”
“Who really came out of that lake and gave you the rusalka nightmare?” Jordan pounced on the new angle of attack. “Someone who didn’t agree with your definition of mercy?”
“I did tell you about that dream, didn’t I?” A blink. “She was no one, really. Just a refugee woman in Posen.”
“Did this one hurt you instead of the other way around?” What does a monster fear? “Is that why she makes you afraid? Why you dream of her?”
“I don’t fear her. Why would I?” Anneliese’s hand drifted up to her neck, unconsciously. The old scar, Jordan thought, hidden by makeup. “She’s probably long dead.”
But her face flickered, and Jordan knew it was fear. I can read you too, you know. Why had Anneliese told her the rusalka nightmare in the first place?
Because it was midnight, and she was frightened, and I was there. Because sometimes even monsters need to talk.
Jordan made her voice soft, as she gathered her feet beneath her. “Anna, won’t you let me—”
The pistol rose again. “Sit back down.” Jordan sat. “I’m aware you’re trying to stall me,” Anneliese said. “I confess it’s tempting to sit here and wait until your friends arrive. I really am very tired of running. But that would be giving up, and it was my last promise to Manfred that I not give up. He died in a hail of bullets in Altaussee rather than let himself be taken; the least I can do is run.” She looked at Jordan, very direct. “Don’t look for me. You won’t find me, not this time, and what harm can I do? I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to live quietly.”
“You don’t want to hurt anyone, but you will if you think you’re threatened. Dad suspected something at the shop, didn’t he? He saw traces of your little scheme with Kolb. He just thought it was a swindle, not anything to do with war criminals, but he died before he found out more. How did that happen, Anna?” Jordan’s eyes bored into her stepmother. “Did you murder my father?”
That was the other suspicion that had been growing like a monstrous flower in the back of her mind. Even in her frantic drive to get Ruth, some part of Jordan had been reflecting quietly that while Anna McBride knew nothing about firearms, a woman nicknamed the huntress surely would have known what kind of ammunition would make a twelve-gauge shotgun with soft steel Damascus barrels explode. Could have driven out to the lake cabin, slipped a handful of deadly rounds in among the innocent, then taken her stepdaughter shopping for a wedding dress when her husband next went on a turkey hunt . . . “Did you kill him?” Jordan asked, voice breaking. “Did you?”
Anna’s face never moved, not so much as a flicker.
Oh, Dad. Jordan’s mind in its iced-over horror stuttered. Dad—
“I was very fond of him, you know,” Anneliese said at last. “If you hadn’t pushed things—he never really trusted me after that first Thanksgiving. Not deep down. I’d catch him looking at me, in bed when he thought I was asleep . . . I suppose that’s why he found it easy to be suspicious of Kolb, start asking questions.” Anneliese shook her head. “I still wonder how you did it. Putting it all together, just seventeen . . . well, I did say you were clever, didn’t I? I never dared keep anything in the house after that, for fear you’d sniff it out.”
“Don’t you dare tell me Dad’s death was my fault,” Jordan grated.
“I won’t tell you anything. Go live your life, leave me to live mine. I just want to disappear with Ruth.”
Terror swamped Jordan again in a wave. “You are not taking Ruth!”
“Of course I am. She’s my responsibility—also my surety, Jordan. Because if I ever feel I’m being tracked again, I will shoot her and then I will shoot myself.” Anneliese’s gaze was candid, earnest. Jordan sat pinned by it, dry mouthed.
“Please—” she began, but Anneliese overrode her.
“I won’t run a third time.