"I believe that as much as I believe the reason you're going," she replied tartly. He smiled, stepped back and let the night cover him.
For several seconds Nikki glared at the spot where he'd been standing, and she silently cursed him. She'd forgotten just how frustrating he could be—which really only showed how much he'd changed in the time they'd been together.
But, thanks to the spell he was under, he was back to telling her nothing and trying to get rid of her the minute anything dangerous appeared on the horizon.
While she had no doubt he would check the mines, she also suspected he was going to check what Kinnard had been up to. If she'd noticed the old man foraging around in the shrubs, Michael surely had. And he was about to learn yet again that she wasn't going to be left behind, where it was supposedly safe. She hitched up her skirt and walked back towards the pond. Just as she reached the old pump-house building, a scream rent the air. She froze, a chill racing across her skin as she stared towards the town. It had come from the direction of the whorehouse and had been a sound of sheer terror. Someone was dead. Horribly dead. Of that she was certain. And Seline had warned her about ... There will be five people killed, the old witch had said , two on the first night. Stop them, if you can.
Nikki had fallen into a trap, all right, but it wasn't the wolves. It was believing what Kinnard had said about the rangers and thinking that the rangers were the two who would lose their lives tonight. God, she was a fool.
She turned and raced down the hill. People were out in the streets, some simply standing there, some running towards the whorehouse.
She pushed past the small crowd standing in the doorway, then hesitated, glancing around. Sobbing was coming from the room to her left, but it was the stairs that drew her attention. Blood that was fresh and bright dribbled slowly down each step, its source an unknown well at the top. Nikki swallowed, then lifted her skirt higher and carefully made her way up the stairs. It wasn't until she reached the landing that someone tried to stop her.
A big man with red hair and matching cheeks stepped forward, one large hand outstretched. She sidestepped the pool near the top stair then came to a halt, her gaze unwillingly following the needle fine trails to the doorway on the right. The door was closed, but that wasn't stopping the blood. God, what had happened in there?
"Sorry, Miss, it's better that you don't go any further." His voice was gravelly, but gentle. "It's not very pretty."
There was a sheriff's badge on the left pocket of his khaki shirt, but it was the plastic kind they sold in toy shops. His pants were also khaki, and Nikki very much suspected she'd just found one of the missing rangers. But did that mean the others were also in this crowd, or was this another of Dunleavy's little games?
"I've had medical experience," she lied. "I might be able to help."
"There's no one left alive in there to help, Miss. Best you go back down the stairs."
"Sorry, can't do that."
She tensed, expecting him to react, to try and force her back down the stairs, but all he did was shrug and step back. "Then let it be on your head."
Nikki's gaze went from the ranger to the door, and her stomach clenched. She didn't want to step through that doorway—no sane person would—but she had to. She was here to do a job, to stop a killer, and something in that room might provide a clue.