Silver Falls by Anne Stuart Page B

drove into the garage and closed the door behind him. The women of his household were gone—Sophie was at school, Rachel had gone looking for his brother. He’d known she would—women couldn’t keep away from Caleb once he decided to lure them, and he’d been watching Rachel with those dark eyes of his.
    David had driven by the parking area at the base of Silver Mountain, just to be sure. Rachel’s Volvo was parked there, the car he’d given her for a wedding present. He couldn’t help it—he chuckled. She was so easy to manipulate, so transparent. His brother would probably have her on her back in record time.
    An ordinary man would have been disturbed. Not David. He’d known almost immediately that he’d made a mistake in marrying Rachel. She’d seemed the answer to everything—she calmed him when his needs flared, and he thought she’d be perfect. By the time Sophie reached the right age he might even have moved past his darkest desires. He’d been having a harder time controlling them recently. He’d never felt the need to strike only six months apart. He could keep Rachel as the perfect wife, the perfect cover. And he could watch Sophie grow into the young woman she was meant to be. And when that happened, maybe this strange cycle, that had lasted more than twenty years, would come to an end. Something would happen to Rachel, and he could live out his life with Sophie, serene and brilliant.
    In the meantime, Rachel was proving a sore disappointment. He kept hoping he could train her, but she ignored his hints, and he understood human nature well enough to know that she wouldn’t respond well to direct orders. There was nothing he could do about it, except get rid of her in as timely a manner as possible.
    But first he had to make absolutely certain that Sophie would be his.
    He knew that she wanted him. Her careful way of avoiding him, of never meeting his gaze, of being studiously distant and polite, simply covered the same longing he felt for her. He had to be very delicate about it. She was young and shy, despite what her mother said. Her friend had been easier—older, more self-assured. He could bless Tessa for bringing him to Sophie. This was who he’d been waiting for, the one to make him complete. Not her mother. And it had all been sheer luck. He’d found Tessa, and she’d been perfect for a time, and when he’d finished he should have been able to go back to his normal life.
    But he couldn’t keep away from the funeral, and the moment he saw Sophie, he knew she was meant for him.
    For a short while he’d hoped he could be like other men. That Rachel would be the answer until Sophie came of age.
    But his needs were growing stronger.
    He opened the trunk of the car and took a step back, assailed by the stench. Rotting flesh. He should have dumped her weeks ago, but for some reason the chance never came up. He had to admit that a certain part of him enjoyed knowing she was back there, wrapped in a tarp. He liked drivingRachel around, telling her about the bloated deer corpse he’d accidentally run over. She’d believed him, the silly cow. Because she adored him.
    He took the cans of air freshener and sprayed them liberally through the trunk. He should have gone up to Costco and bought a case—it was taking forever to get rid of the smell. But then, someone might have noticed, and he was a very careful man.
    He closed the trunk again, then opened the back door of the garage to release some of the lingering odor. It was getting close to three o’clock—if she wasn’t back to the car then he’d be able to pick up Sophie. He always liked those moments. She would sit beside him in the car, her hands clasped in her lap, her long legs beneath the school uniform deliberately enticing him. Maybe he’d take her for a drive, talk to her about how depressed her mother had been. He’d explain that