Cold feet (26 page)

"What?" Madison thought she must have heard wrong. How could Johnny have met Caleb while he was in prison? "You must be confusing him with someone else. Caleb's from San Francisco."

"That's bullshit," Johnny muttered. "He's from right here in Seattle. He's--" he snapped his fingers impatiently "--I can't remember the name. But he's that big crime writer who made a mint off Dahmer's story. He was hoping to do the same with Dad, remember?"

"Thomas L. Wagner," Madison whispered, feeling numb. Sucker-punched. After her conversation with Caleb in the car, her words sounded like an echo and, when she turned to Caleb, she didn't have to ask if it was true. She knew from the look on his face.

"You lied to me," she said, and suddenly understood why a man like Caleb, who seemed to have it all, would be so interested in a struggling single mother who just happened to be the daughter of an accused murderer.

And she'd slept with him.... God, she was a fool, a dreamer, despite all previous reality checks!

"Madison, listen to me," Caleb said. "Give me a chance to explain."

"A chance to explain what?" she replied. "You knew who I was when you moved in, didn't you?"

"Of course. But then--"

"And you thought it was the perfect opportunity to find out everything you ever wanted to know about my father. You thought you'd slip in, see what you could learn while paying for a few weeks' rent, and the joke would be on me. Well, aren't you clever."

"It was never a joke," he said. "Sure, I thought it would be one way around your refusal to help me. I believed the people who've been hurt by the Sandpoint Strangler deserved some answers. I still believe that."

He reached out to grab her arm, but she knocked his hand away.

"What about
me?
" she asked. "Don't I deserve anything, Caleb? Not even the truth?"

"Because of you, I'm not going to write the book, Madison. I decided that almost the day I met you."

She closed her eyes, determined to fight the tears that seemed to be her heart's only recourse. "You offered to be my friend," she said hoarsely. "I trusted you."

"I
am
your friend."

She shook her head, scarcely able to swallow for the lump in her throat. "You're no friend of mine, Caleb or Thomas or--or whoever you are." She motioned toward the door. "Get your things from the cottage and get out of my life."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

C
ALEB HAD BEEN STANDING
at his window, watching Madison's house ever since he'd left it. He'd seen her cover the broken window with plastic, but he hadn't seen Johnny come out yet. Madison was probably letting her brother stay the night. Caleb hated the thought of that. He didn't believe Johnny presented any real danger to her, but he knew Madison was already struggling to keep her business afloat and, with recent events, she didn't need anything else to worry about.

Who would've guessed Johnny still had enough brain cells to recognize him?

Damn.
Caleb should have told her who he really was on the way home. But he'd mistakenly thought he'd have all night--and he'd let his libido get in the way. Now he wasn't sure she'd ever give him a chance to explain. He wasn't even sure explaining would do any good. He'd done exactly what she'd accused him of doing.

Only he'd come to care about her in the process. Didn't that count for something?

Turning to the television, which was on very low so he could hear anything that might happen outside, he stretched his neck. The stark expression in Madison's eyes when she'd heard his pseudonym and understood the truth still haunted him. He wanted to talk to her, didn't feel he could go to bed until he did. But he knew she was much less likely to listen to him while Johnny was there.

L
ONG AFTER
J
OHNNY
went to sleep in Brianna's room, Madison sat in front of the television. But it wasn't on. Nothing was on except a lamp by the window. She knew she should've sent Johnny on his way. On one level, she was as frightened of him now as she'd been when she was just a kid and he and Tye were smoking pot out behind the garage and coaxing her to join them.

But how could she send her own brother away when he was broke and needed a place to spend the night? Besides, if she made Johnny leave or took him somewhere else, she'd be alone. And she didn't want to be alone right now. Her frustration and discomfort with Johnny seemed pretty minor in light of what she'd just learned about Caleb.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she shivered against the cold. A ship's horn sounded outside, far off in the distance, and the dampness from the fog drifting in off the bay seemed to filter through the plastic covering the broken window and through every crevice in the house. But she didn't have the energy to get up and turn on the heat or even fetch herself a blanket. She was too busy replaying bits and pieces of conversation in her head, and remembering other things that should've given her some indication that Caleb wasn't what he'd said he was. His probing questions. His unusual work hours. The time he'd kissed her and said, "I never dreamed you, of all people, could do this to me."

Of all people...
Damn him! He'd known who she was and what he wanted from her. And if he could get a little sex on the side, that made the joke even better, right?

She stiffened, feeling a renewed sense of betrayal when she thought of him borrowing her father's truck. He no doubt had ulterior motives for that, too. He'd probably gone through it with tweezers and a magnifying glass, looking for evidence. Exactly what her father had once feared might happen...

How could he?

Picking up the phone, she dialed his number.

He answered on the second ring.

"Caleb?"

"Madison! God, I'm glad it's you. Listen, I'm coming over there--"

"Just tell me something," she interrupted, keeping her voice as cold as her fingers and toes.

He hesitated, obviously leery. "What?"

"Did you really help a friend move when you borrowed my father's truck? Or did you make me walk into that garage--" her voice wobbled, so she paused until she could control it again "--and get that truck so you could search it?"

He didn't answer, but that was answer enough. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. "That's what I thought," she said and hung up.

The phone rang, but she just stared at it dully, as though the sound came from far away. She'd braved the place where her father had shot himself. She'd risked her mother's fragile peace of mind. All because she'd stupidly believed that Caleb was her friend. No, more than her friend...

The phone kept ringing. Madison refused to pick it up. She thought maybe the noise would wake Johnny, but she shouldn't have worried. As far as she could tell, he didn't stir.

Finally, silence fell. She thought Caleb had given up, but the quiet didn't last long. A few minutes later, he knocked at the door.

"Madison, come on. I want to talk to you."

Madison felt wounded, exposed. She'd trusted Caleb. Yet their relationship had meant nothing to him. He'd merely been using her.

Bang, bang, bang.
"I'm not going away, Madison. You might as well answer."

"Leave me alone," she called.

"Open up."

"Hey, I'm trying to sleep here," Johnny cried. "Who's making so much damn noise?"

"No one you need to worry about," Madison told him. Then, because she was tired of always being polite, she added, "So just stay out of it!"

To her surprise, he didn't respond.

"Madison?" Caleb hollered.

"Go away!"

"Not until you talk to me."

She could hear the determination in his voice, so she marched down the hall and threw open the door. "What do you want from me?"

He shoved a hand through his hair, which was sticking up as though he'd ruffled it a few times already. "I want you to calm down for a minute so we can work this out."

"There's nothing to work out, Caleb. I told you in the beginning that I wasn't ready for a relationship. I don't know how I let you change my mind. I guess it was too easy to have someone here who seemed to offer me some support. And then we were going out and dancing and...and I was meeting your mother...and--" closing her eyes, she shook her head "--I liked her. I liked your whole family."

"What went on between us wasn't something either one of us decided to make happen, Madison." He tried to take her chin so she'd have to look at him, but as much as she craved physical contact, she jerked away.

"If you'll just think for a minute, you'll know what I'm saying is true," he said. "I didn't set out to seduce you."

"But you were certainly willing to take advantage of the unexpected windfall!"

His eyebrows drew together. "Last night was...it just got away from me."

"And tonight?"

"I would've made love to you tonight, too. I won't deny that. But I was planning on telling you the truth--soon. I tried to tell you in the car, remember? Only the minute I mentioned my pseudonym you reacted so negatively...." He sighed and dropped his hands. "It was stupid of me. I see that now. But I decided to wait for a better time."

"A better time would've been the day we met," she said.

"And you would have turned me away in a heartbeat."

"Exactly! I should have had that chance!"

He shifted on the balls of his feet, as though he was too edgy to stand still. "Madison, I know how you must feel, but the woman who went missing, the one who was just found dead, used to be my sister-in-law."

His what? Before Madison could respond, a car pulled into the drive. Caleb fell silent as he turned toward it, and Madison blinked against the sudden glare of headlights. When the engine died and the lights snapped off, she could make out a late-model Honda. The same tall blond woman who'd visited Caleb before was getting out of it.

"Shit," Caleb muttered.

The sick feeling in Madison's stomach intensified. "Don't tell me--it's your wife or girlfriend."

He gave her a look that said he wasn't
that
low. "I haven't been cheating on anyone. It's Holly, my
ex
-wife. Her sister's the woman who was just murdered."

That Caleb had personally known one of the victims somehow changed things, but Madison was still too upset to sort out why.

"Caleb, where have you been?" his ex-wife demanded, striding confidently up the drive in a black leather jacket and jeans. "I've been calling and calling you."

Caleb glanced at Madison, obviously eager to finish their conversation. But Holly demanded his attention. "Caleb?"

His eyebrows lowered into a dark line as she drew closer, but he turned to Madison. "Let me take care of whatever she wants, then I'll come over later and we'll talk some more, okay?"

Madison held up her hand, palm out. Some of her anger had dissipated. But something else was quickly replacing it--a sort of dull acceptance, a sense of inevitability. Had she really thought she'd found her prince at last? That she'd do any better the second time around? "Caleb, maybe--in your mind--you had good reason for using me," she said. "I think I can even understand it. But I just want to be left alone, okay?"

"Madison--"

"Good night," she said softly, and closed the door. Then she sagged against the wall and slid all the way to the floor. She had to take a hard line with Caleb. Softening would only get her hurt--again.

"W
HAT WERE YOU DOING
talking to Purcell's daughter this time of night?" Holly asked, scowling at Madison's closed door.

Caleb zipped up his windbreaker, wondering whether to knock again or give Madison time to cool off.

"Caleb?"

His muscles felt so taut he could barely move. "We had some business to take care of," he said.

"What kind of business? What was that about you using her?"

He didn't answer. Because of Holly's presence, he decided to give Madison the night to herself, and stepped off the porch. Maybe after she'd had a chance to rest and--

"It's nearly eleven." Holly's voice broke into his thoughts again. "What were you doing at her house at this time of night? Don't tell me you needed her to come over and fix a leaky faucet."

The bigger question, to Caleb, was what Holly thought
she
was doing appearing at his house so late. "I can handle my own leaky faucets," he grumbled. But he wasn't sure he could handle Madison cutting him out of her life.

He cast Holly a quick glance. "What do you want?"

She stiffened, obviously offended by his curt tone. "Is that any way to greet me?"

Caleb felt his jaw tighten and reminded himself that Holly's sister had just been murdered. He wanted to be sensitive to her loss. But she was using the investigation to call him day and night, usually for no good reason.
What are you doing? Where are you going? Can you stop by?
Surely there had to be someone else she could lean on. He was her
ex
-husband, for crying out loud. What about her parents? Her friends?

"It's the middle of the night, Holly," he said. "I wasn't expecting you."
And you interrupted at a really bad time.

"But I've been trying and trying to reach you."

He'd turned off his cell phone because he hadn't wanted to hear from her.

She had to hurry to keep up with him as he trudged over to the cottage. "Are you going to tell me what you need?" he asked, and he'd insist on a good answer this time. He'd had it with, "I couldn't sleep," and "I miss you." He'd made it perfectly clear that their relationship was over.

She didn't answer right away, so he arched a brow to let her know he was waiting. "You're acting like you don't want me here," she said, pouting.

Her tone was accusatory enough to make him believe she was about to start an argument, and Caleb felt his control slipping. "Holly, I'm not capable of walking on eggshells tonight. If you have something to say, say it. But it had better be good. I'm not in the mood to--" he was about to say, "put up with you," but in deference to what had happened to Susan, he caught himself "--pry it out of you."