I sagged against him, letting him support me for a few steps before we reached the stairs. "Thank the gods. If anything happened to her, I… I don't know what I'd do."
I glanced back, but I couldn't make out what Leif and Woody were doing. The bed was in the way. I decided that was for the best. They seemed to be heaving the body around like it was a slab of meat. I supposed it was at this point. Ironic, since the senator saw me that way too.
Asshole.
"I don't suppose the senator said anything to you about who was in charge of the auction?" Forrest asked as we made our way down the stairs.
"Woody asked. He claimed he didn't know. We didn't have any other conversations," I said. "Not deep and meaningfulones." Certainly not informative. "I'm guessing you don't know either." Of course not, or he wouldn't have asked me.
"Not yet," he said. "But we will. I have people on the inside. As soon as we find out who they are, we're coming for them." His tone was dark. He was ready to tear them limb from limb with his bare hands. Maybe handcuff them in an old building and let Woody set it on fire.
Was that something they'd do? If Leif liked to remove the skin, he wouldn't get much out of the ashes. No doubt they had something painful and permanent in mind. I was sure they'd share when the time was right.
"They should be shaking in their shoes already," I said. "They weren't any of the people who were at the auction?"
I thought back to all those men in their expensive suits, and the two women who were taking part with as much enthusiasm. I wished I could put it past a woman to be the one behind it all, but I couldn't. Some women didn't believe in supporting the sisterhood.
"As far as we can tell, no." He led me over to the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cabinet, and poured a glass of water. He handed it to me and leaned against the countertop, his hands pressed to the stone behind him and watched me take a sip.
I could have done with something stronger, but it was good for a start.
"What sort of person does something so twisted?" I asked. "What motivates them? Greed? Power? Arrogance?"
"All of the above," Forrest said. He adjusted his watch and crossed his arms. "They think they can get away with anything they want, because they have for so long. Take the senator, for example. It wouldn't take a deep search to find a trail of corruption, bribery, and depravity. He deserved exactly what he got."
I sipped and contemplated him. "Why aren't you like that? You could be just as corrupt and depraved as him. You'd get away with it."
"Of course I would," he said. Not smug, just matter of fact. No, there was a hint of irritation there because heshouldn'tget away with it.
"A long time ago I was at the crossroads. I had to decide if I was going to be an asshole or not."
"And you chose not," I said.
"Some would say I chose asshole," he replied. "I express it in a way that doesn't hurt innocent people."
"Just guilty people." I finished my water and wiped the glass on the jacket I was still wearing, doing my best to remove fingerprints and DNA before I placed it in the dishwasher.
"We can turn it on when Leif and Woody are finished with the knives," Forrest said. "That will eradicate the rest of the evidence from the murder weapon."
Yes, I supposed it would. If the police turned up, they'd find both knives, but nothing in the way of clues.
"Do you ever regret not going down the bigger asshole path?" I asked. "There must be things you wish you could have gotten away with."
"Not for a minute," he said. "I take out my frustrations on people who think it's acceptable to harm others, especially others who are innocent." He stepped over and put his hands on my cheeks. "I was worried."
"Funny, so was I." I managed a faint smile.
"I didn't want to walk away from you, back in that tattoo place."
"What choice did you have?" I looked into his eyes and saw regret there, and sincerity.
"What would they have done if you tried to stay?" I asked, although the question was rhetorical. "They would have killed you, and you wouldn't have saved Savannah."
"Exactly, and you'd never forgive me." He pressed his forehead to mine. "That would have been the worst part."
"What they did to her wasn't your fault," I reminded him.
Our breath mingled. We'd been physically closer, but this was more intimate somehow. More personal.