A Deadly Love (13 page)

“It wouldn’t do any good. I spent most of the day out looking for signs of her and found nothing. I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all, but Brooke told me I should.”

“She was right.” Harley’s brows lowered. “Have there been other times you heard someone and failed to report it.”

Jesse’s golden eyes flared. “What if there was. I’m just a crazy old coot, not someone to be taken seriously. I’d look like a fool running to the sheriff every time a raccoon rustled through the bushes.”

“You said you heard a woman.”

“Last night was different. I heard a scream. The other times it was just snapping branches, that sort of thing. I couldn’t be certain it wasn’t an animal.”

Harley leaned back in his chair. “Can you tell me where the sounds came from?”

“They were fairly close. The flashes of white I saw were to the east. The times before the noises were farther away, to the north one night and the south another. I searched thoroughly each time and never found anything more ominous than a few broken branches and some bent ferns.”

The sheriff rubbed his hand along the side of his jaw. “So by morning whoever was out there is long gone.”

Jesse jumped up from his seat. “What do you take me for, a coward afraid of the dark? I spent the whole night out searching those woods the first time I heard noises after Marnie Palmer disappeared. There’re two women missing, for God’s sake, and another one dead. I didn’t wait until morning.”

Brooke touched his sleeve. “Harley knows you did everything you could.”

His shoulders sagged. “Maybe I could have found the woman who screamed last night, but I had Zack with me. I couldn’t leave him alone in the cabin, not when there’s a murderer on the loose.”

“Of course you couldn’t.”

“Sit down, Jesse,” Harley said. “I’m not accusing you of cowardice or anything else for that matter, but I do want a little more information. Do you hear noises every night?”

Jesse lowered himself to the edge of the chair. “Just once in a while.”

“Can you tell me which nights you heard unusual activity?”

“Christ all mighty, Harley. How am I supposed to remember a thing like that? The first time was back in January. Of course I didn’t think anything of it, not until I found that poor girl, Cybil, weeks later. I’ve heard noises off and on since then, but not always on the same nights. There’s no real pattern to it.”

Harley’s face was red to the edges of his ears. He snapped a pencil between his fingers. “So the night you heard Cybil scream and found her body wasn’t the first time you heard someone in the forest?”

“Looking back, I guess it had been going on for about a month. The noises weren’t anything to disturb a person until I heard her scream. There are always sounds in the woods at night.”

Harley gritted his teeth. “Yes there are, but do they usually wake you up?”

“No, I’m accustomed to raccoons and possums, even the occasional bear.” His voice rose. “I certainly had no reason to suspect there was a madman running loose in the forest.”

Brooke glared at Harley. “You didn’t do a thing wrong, Jesse.”

The sheriff let out his breath. “Hindsight’s a bitch. Why didn’t you tell me about all this sooner?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Jesus, I’m asking now. Is there anything else I should know, anything at all?”

“I can’t think what it would be. Can we go home now?”

“In a minute. First I want you to swear you’ll call me the next time you hear anything unusual. This is important, Jesse.”

“Fine, I give you my word.”

Harley stood, and Jesse made a beeline toward the door. The sheriff touched Brooke’s arm. “Thanks for bringing him in. I know he wouldn’t have come on his own.”

She stared after Jesse’s retreating back. “I don’t imagine he would have.”

“Why didn’t Dillon drive him?”

She met his gaze. “Dillon doesn’t know about this latest incident.”

“Tell him, Brooke. Jesse thinks he’s invincible, but he’s well past eighty. I worry about him out there alone, tromping through the woods at night.”

“I’ll tell him just as soon as we get home.” She rolled her eyes. “Though I’m certain neither one of them will thank me for it.”

****

Dillon glanced through the kitchen window when the old Volkswagen bus pulled into June’s driveway. Jesse climbed out of the passenger side and walked around the back of the vehicle to speak to Brooke. She patted his arm, and a moment later he headed through the yard toward the trail leading to his cabin.

He dropped the hot pad he was holding on the counter next to the steaming casserole dish and hurried toward the entry, grabbing his jacket off the rack by the front door as he passed. “I’m going outside for a minute, Zack. I’ll be right back.”

“I thought you said dinner was ready,” his son yelled from the living room. “I’m starving.”

“You’ll have to wait a few more minutes.” He shut the door behind him and walked quickly down the driveway.

Brooke stood on the front porch, juggling a bag of groceries and a gallon of milk. She glanced over her shoulder at his approach.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, taking the milk jug out of her hand and setting it on the porch swing.

She set the bag of groceries next to it and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sure. I was going to stop by later, anyway.”

He inclined his head toward the forest. “About why Jesse went into town with you? I saw him heading home.”

She nodded. “I convinced him to talk to the sheriff. Jesse saw someone out in the woods last night. Apparently he’s been hearing things on a regular basis and investigating on his own. Harley thought you’d want to know.”

He stared at her, noting the droop to her shoulders and the tight line of her lips. She looked tired.
And angry.
Guilt settled in his chest like a bad case of heartburn.

“Of course I want to know. Jesse is a stubborn fool not to have told me about it himself.”

“He didn’t want to worry you.” Her voice held an edge. “He doesn’t want you to consider him a burden.”

Dillon wondered if she was still talking about his grandfather. “Jesse isn’t a burden, but he is my responsibility. I’m concerned for his welfare. I don’t like the idea of him roaming around in the woods at night. If he fell and broke his leg—”

“He could die before anyone found him,” she said bluntly. “Harley was worried, too, once he got past wanting to throttle him for not speaking up sooner.”

“Jesse doesn’t need Harley badgering him. I’ll talk to both of them about it tomorrow.”

She sat on the edge of the porch swing and stuck her hands in her jacket pockets. “How’s Zack?”

“Itchy and cranky.” He paused for a moment. “Brooke, about last night—”

“Last night we both needed a little comfort. Don’t get your shorts in a knot thinking I expect anything from you.” She bit her lip. “I don’t.”

He grinned. “My shorts in a knot?”

Her brows lowered. “You know what I mean. We had fun. No more and no less.”

Zack’s voice echoed across the yard. “Daaaad, dinner’s getting cold. What’s taking so long?”

“See what I mean, cranky.”

Brooke stood. “Go take care of your son. He’s the only one you need to worry about right now.” She picked up the grocery bag and milk and opened the front door. “Goodnight Dillon.”

Brooke disappeared into the house, and he knew he should be relieved she wasn’t putting pressure on him to take their relationship to the next level. Instead he felt hollow.

“Daaaad!”

“Coming, Zack.”

As he turned and ran down the steps, the porch light went out, leaving him in darkness.

Chapter Eight

The phone rang just as Brooke stepped out of the shower. It rang again while she wrapped a towel around herself and tucked the ends between her breasts. On the third ring, she dashed out into the hall and picked up the extension.

“Hello.”

“Brooke?” a male voice said in a questioning tone.

“Yes, may I help you?”

“Brooke, it’s Carter. How are you?”

Goosebumps broke out on her arms as the front door opened and a cold draft of air sailed straight up the stairs and touched her bare skin. “I’m fine, but I’m sort of in the middle of something. What can I do for you?”

“Oh.” His voice sounded slightly taken aback. “Actually I called to ask you to dinner. I don’t have rounds at the hospital this evening, and I was thinking a night out with a beautiful woman would be just what I need to chase away those winter doldrums.”

Brooke opened her mouth to turn him down and hesitated. She shivered and clutched the towel tighter to her chest.

“Brooke, are you still there?”

“I’m sorry, Carter. Yes, I’m here.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sure. Dinner sounds lovely.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven if that works for you.”

“Seven is fine. I’ll see you then.”

She hung up the phone and slowly turned toward the bathroom, wondering if she’d made the right decision. After drying with the oversized towel and rubbing her body with a honeysuckle scented moisturizer, she dressed in a pair of black slacks and a royal blue sweater. She ran down the stairs to the kitchen and found her grandmother standing at the refrigerator with the door open.

“There’s left over chicken and dumplings from the other night. Shall we have that for dinner?” June shut the refrigerator door and turned. Her eyebrows shot up as she studied her granddaughter. “My, don’t you look fancy.”

“Carter Shaw called and asked me to dinner. There’s no point in dressing twice.”

June leaned against the kitchen sink, crossed her arms over her chest, and frowned. “You’re having dinner with Doctor Shaw?”

Brooke nodded. “You don’t approve?”

“Carter is a nice man. He has a bit of a reputation with the ladies, but I guess that’s understandable as there aren’t too many eligible bachelors in our little town. Still—”

“Come on, Grandma, spit it out.”

“Fine,” June said in a huffy tone. “I thought you and Dillon had feelings for each other. I don’t understand why you agreed to date Carter.”

Brooke flipped a strand of damp hair over her shoulder. “Dillon made it pretty clear he isn’t looking for a relationship, so I don’t see the harm in enjoying myself with Carter.” She stared down at her bare feet and curled her toes against the cold linoleum. “If Dillon knew I had a date with Carter, he’d probably be relieved.”

Her grandmother snorted, an unladylike sound that made Brooke smile. “I doubt that. Those two boys have been rivals since their days in the sand box.” She turned back to the refrigerator and pulled out the container of chicken and dumplings. “Well, I don’t suppose there’s any reason why you shouldn’t have dinner with Carter. I’m sure you know what you’re doing.”

Brooke wished she was as confident as her grandmother. When it came to men, her track record was pathetic.

****

The candle flame flickered in a pool of wax, casting shadows across the gold rimmed china plates and delicate crystal stemware. Classical music played softly through hidden speakers. Brooke poked at the piece of broccoli left on her plate and listened to Carter make an amusing tale of a fishing trip that ended with an overturned canoe in an icy lake. His blue eyes sparkled, and his chiseled lips curved in a rueful grin, revealing perfect teeth. She wondered how he kept his tan in the perpetually rainy climate of a Northern California winter.

“Brooke, I asked if you’d like to order dessert. Don’t tell me my fish story bored you into a stupor.”

“No, of course not.” She leaned back as the hovering server, a young woman with blonde hair cut in a neat bob, took her plate. “No dessert for me, thank you, but I would like a cup of coffee, decaf please.”

“Make that two.”

The girl nodded and left with their empty plates. She paused beside one of the few other occupied tables in the Woodvale Inn dining room, nodded, and hurried off toward the kitchen. Brooke let out a sigh.

“Tired?” he asked.

“No, I was just thinking that business may be increasing in the summer, but the winter months are painfully slow around here.”

“Tourists aren’t interested in viewing the scenery through a torrential downpour.”

“I don’t imagine they are, and right now I guess that’s a good thing. We don’t need word spreading there’s a serial killer on the loose in our neck of the woods.”

Carter frowned. “I don’t believe Harley is classifying Cybil’s death as a serial killing. No one else has died.”

“Let’s hope the police catch the madman who did it before he kills again. I keep thinking I could have rescued Tricia Eaton if only I’d been able to stop my car in time.” She drew in a ragged breath. “When I close my eyes, I see her terrified face. Maybe she wasn’t afraid of being hit by my car. Maybe she was frightened of something else.”

He laid his hand over her clenched fist where it rested on the white tablecloth. “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Brooke. There’s no reason to assume the killer has Tricia. Maybe she really did leave town to get away from her boyfriend.”

She pulled her hand away as the server returned with their coffee, ripped open a packet of sugar, and added it to her cup. “Let’s talk about something else. Debating the issue isn’t going to help either of the missing women.”

“Actually I wanted to ask you about something a whole lot more pleasant. Have you heard about our annual black and white ball?”

“Grandma mentioned it. It’s a fund raiser for the chamber of commerce, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “It’s held here at the Woodvale Inn, and it isn’t as fancy as the name implies. With the current situation, there was some debate over whether or not to hold it this year, but the committee decided to go ahead with their plans. I hope you’ll be my date.”

Brooke took a sip of coffee and returned her cup to its saucer. She enjoyed Carter’s company. He was handsome and charming, and there were probably plenty of women who would jump at his invitation. But her pulse didn’t race when he touched her hand, and her stomach didn’t jump when he smiled at her.

“Am I too late?” he asked with a crestfallen expression. “Did someone else ask you first?”