“He’s gone.” Mason scanned the water, not believing his words, but desperate to put her at ease. “I’m going to roll you onto your back; just float, okay?”

“No!” She kicked and tried to bury her face in his neck, pushing him deeper.

“Ava! Hold still!” he ordered.

She froze and he rolled her over, looping one arm under her armpit. “I’ve got you. It’s not far to the bank.”

Ray’s welcome face appeared in the water. “Need a hand?”

Mason wanted to kiss him. “Take her,” he demanded, pushing Ava at Ray as he felt something touch his foot. Ray looped an arm around her neck and reached out with a long stroke to swim them back to shore.

Take her out of reach.

Treading water, Mason stared down and tried to see through the murk, his heart pounding against his chest.

He waited for the demon.

Nothing else touched his foot. He scanned the surface of the water, wondering how long Troy could hold his breath and how far away he could swim.

Is Troy gone?

30

Three days later

The giant crane lifted the van out of the channel and water rushed out of the open rear door, streaming back into the river. Ava gasped and looked down.

Mason felt Ava shudder and pulled her tight against him. He watched tears run down her face. She cautiously glanced at the crane and then looked away again. She repeated the behavior several times and each glance ripped at his heart a little more.

“I can’t believe I was in that,” she whispered.

Mason and Ava watched from the banks of the Multnomah Channel. Spectators packed the side of the road, and Mason and Ava blended in with the crowds, avoiding the press and large police presence. They’d spotted Zander and Parek supervising the removal of the van. She’d told Zander she didn’t want to watch the van be pulled out of the river, but this morning Mason had noticed she couldn’t sit still. He’d ordered her into his vehicle and they’d driven silently to the site.

He hoped he’d done the right thing by making her come. He’d thought seeing the van be pulled from the waters would purge some of her nightmares. Twice last night she’d woken up screaming, convinced she was drowning. She’d thrashed her arms, believing they were still tied and that she was sinking under the water. He’d struggled with his own nightmares. The ones where he plunged into black water and couldn’t find her. Or the one where his last-ditch grab for her hair failed, and Troy Beadle dragged her to the bottom of the river.

The first night, he’d sat at Ava’s bedside in the hospital, and dreaded that the man had escaped in the dark and would come after her. But divers had recovered Beadle’s body the morning after the incident.

Should I have dived after Troy?

Could he have saved him?

No.

“Holy crap, would you look at that,” said a spectator to Mason’s right, snapping photos of the dangling van with his phone. “Drowning was too good for that asshole.”

Ava straightened and looked at the man. “Damn right.” She winced as she adjusted the sling on her left arm. Her ordeal had damaged a muscle attachment, and she was scheduled for surgery tomorrow. Her surgeon had wanted to operate immediately, but she’d told him to wait. She wanted to catch her breath and get her feet back under her.

And monitor Jayne’s progress. Her left arm had been badly burned in the house fire.

When Ava had heard what’d happened to Jayne, she had been unable to sit still in her hospital room until she’d seen her sister. Her twin was in the burn unit. The hospital had turned over Jayne’s valuables to Ava. They’d consisted of three one-dollar bills and a ring dangling on a gold necklace.

“She didn’t sell our mother’s ring,” Ava had whispered. “I didn’t believe her when she said she’d kept it. I thought for sure it was long gone. Even though she’d hit rock bottom, she didn’t part with it.”

“But she was fine with stealing it,” Mason had countered. He’d never forgive Jayne McLane. She’d hurt Ava too many times.

“Both our left arms are injured,” Ava had said softly to Mason. “I never know if it’s coincidence or fate when something happens like that. Whatever befalls one of us seems to echo in the other.”

Ava had started to ramble while on strong pain-killers later that day. “It’s unavoidable,” she’d slurred. “I can’t change what’s supposed to happen. I’ve tried my hardest, but sometimes I think it’d be easier to let go and simply let genetics take over . . . instead of constantly fighting to be the exact opposite of everything she is.”

She’d closed her eyes and fallen asleep, leaving Mason speechless. Within twenty-four hours she’d cut the pain-killers back to a minimum, saying she couldn’t think straight and didn’t mind the pain in her shoulder. She’d exposed the most damaged part of her heart to him. Did she remember? He silently renewed his promise to help her carry the load with her twin, to do everything he could to relieve some of her burden.

“I’ve seen enough,” she whispered to him on the riverbank. “Let’s go home.”

Mason nodded and opened the vehicle door for her. She winced as she slid into the seat, protecting her shoulder, and leaned her head on the headrest.

She closed her eyes.

A knock on the door startled Ava awake from her nap on the couch. She sat up, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm, and answered the door. A worn-looking Zander stood on the front porch.