Confessions of a Werewolf Supermodel (19 page)

“I know, she hit on my Barbie when your Barbie wasn't looking.”

Cindy laughs, and I figure that's the last one I'll get from her for the rest of the morning.

CONFESSION NO. 16

A little truth women hate to admit. A man can make you feel good, then make you feel bad, but it only takes another one to make you feel good again.

Cindy only allowed me a couple of hours of torture before she talked me into taking off for soup and salad at our favorite café. We're nearly finished when I notice Cindy's gaze move across the room and dart back. This happens several times before I rouse myself from a food-induced stupor and take a look for myself. Stefan and Natasha Somethingorother sit across the room having coffee.

Great. Kick me while I'm down. I realize this is why Cindy hasn't pointed out their presence. “You can stop doing that,” I say. “I see them. And the only way to cheer me up now is if we can make fun of them.”

“Lou,” Cindy warns. “That's about as mature as fifth grade. I'm sure they're just discussing business, so don't get your panties in a wad.”

“Business.” I snort. “Probably more like a reconciliation. Why does he always wear that orange stocking cap? He knows I don't like it.”

Cindy shrugs. “Maybe his head is just cold. It is winter and he is bald.”

“He shaves his head. He is not bald,” I snap.

“So he says.” Cindy snorts. “I thought you wanted to make fun of him.”

She should know me better. “I really wanted to just make fun of her.”

Leaning back, Cindy sighs. “Give it a rest, Lou. She's really nice if you'd take the time to get to know her.”

That statement immediately pricks my curiosity. “When did you take the time to get to know her?”

Fumbling with a napkin, Cindy wipes her mouth. I was going to tell her she had salad dressing on her chin but figured a girl who had snot in her eyebrows last night would consider it a minor offense. “I've worked with her, remember? She doesn't like you because you're snotty to her.”

“I'm not snotty,” I argue. “And it's hard to be nice to a girl who rubs it in that she's sleeping with your man.”

Cindy's brows shoot up. I did a nice job on them. Her skin glows. She's fixed her hair and she really is a knockout. “Your man? I believe it's because he's been everyone's man except yours that you won't take the relationship to the next level. Stefan and Natasha only slept together once. She's a one-night stand. Show a little compassion.”

Kick number two, and from my best friend. Cindy really knows how to preach. Maybe it comes natural to her, like it does to her dad. I am currently on the one-night-stand list even if Terry says he doesn't want it to be that way. How do I know that's not what he says to every girl he sleeps with? Maybe it's an excuse to keep from alienating me since we're basically involved in a case together. Okay, a little compassion won't kill me. I glance toward Natasha and find her looking at me.

My first instinct is to arch my back and hiss. I smile instead and give her a wave. “See, I'm making nice,” I say through my teeth.

Stefan stares at me, too. He says something to Natasha, grabs his cup, and rises from the table. The next thing I know, both are heading in our direction.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Remember, you said you'd be nice,” Cindy says.

I said that when we were talking about some point in the future. Twenty years from now or something. I owe Cindy one for letting me torture her all morning. Truth is, some of the things I did to her didn't have to hurt as much as they did. I took out my frustration about Terry on her.

“Hi,” I nearly shout when Stefan and Natasha reach the table.

Both draw back as if startled. I decide this could be amusing, if only for myself. “Sit down,” I urge them. “Wow, imagine running into you two here. Have you eaten?”

“No, well, yes, I ate earlier,” Stefan says, taking a seat across from me. “Natasha and I just met for coffee. I asked her to be part of an upcoming ski shoot in Vermont.”

Stefan knows I hate to be cold, and I don't really like snow. I'm from Texas and we didn't get much of it in Haven. So why does it bother me that he hasn't asked me? Under normal circumstances it wouldn't. I'm feeling insecure.

“Sounds like fun,” I say, unable to keep up my earlier level of enthusiasm.

“It does?” Stefan laughs. “You hate cold weather and snow, Lou.”

“Yes,” I admit. “But I bet it's beautiful in Vermont.”

“It is.” Natasha speaks up. “I love to ski. I know the perfect little inn where we can stay during the shoot. I am friends with the owners. They have family still in Russia, like me.”

“Sounds like fun,” Cindy says. “Any chance I can come along to do makeup for the models?”

Stefan doesn't answer for a moment. I glance at him and find him staring at Cindy. “You look different,” he finally comments. “I never noticed what delicate bone structure you have, Cindy. Or how big and beautiful your eyes are.”

Cindy bats her lashes. “Thank you, Stefan. So, do I get to come?”

My mouth may be hanging open in unattractive fashion. I've never seen Cindy do flirty. Especially with a man.

“Sure, I'll count you in,” Stefan answers. “What about you, Lou? You want in? I'm sure the advertisers would be thrilled to have you in the ad.”

Now is when I have to decide if I really want in, or if I just want to be asked so I don't feel left out. I haven't dreamed about Dog Breath. Could he really be dead?

“When?” I ask.

“A couple of weeks.”

That gives me time to see if the nightmares have ended for good, and if Kane finds out anything else about Wendy Underwood.

“I'd like you to come,” Stefan says.

Those eyes. So dark and deep, like my favorite chocolate. How can I say no to Stefan? My savior. My friend. The man I haven't beat up in bed yet. At least in Stefan's eyes, I'm still the most perfect woman on the planet. “Okay, I'll go.”

If I'm not mistaken, I hear both Cindy and Natasha groan their disappointment.

*   *   *

After two more nights without nightmares, I allow myself to believe I killed the monster. It was self-defense and he was killing women, so no guilt to follow me around on this one. It's strange to think I will never suffer another nightmare with the killer's passing. Then it occurs to me that I've been dreaming about him for seven years.

Does that mean he's been killing women for that long? I also realize my dream settings have been different places. Different cities. Different states. I grab a notepad and sit, trying to remember those early dreams. After an hour of working, I call Terry and tell him I need to talk to him.

He arrives thirty minutes later. I alerted Gus that Terry would be coming and to let him in. When I open the door to his knock and see Terry standing there, my heart does a lurch and my knees go weak. He wears baggy jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt. His form looks damn good. Business, I remind myself. This meeting is about business.

“So, what have you got for me?” he asks.

There's another loaded question. “Come in, I'll show you.”

I turn and walk to the sofa where my notepad rests. I hear the door close and Terry joins me on the couch. “I've been thinking about the killer. About visions that I've had during the past seven years. He's killed other women. Women in other states. Not all of the victims have been found. I thought that together, we might give the victims' families closure about their loved ones and what happened to them.”

Terry glances up from my notes. “I don't know, Lou. What you have here is pretty vague. I need specifics before I can dig around in someone else's jurisdiction.”

It's not like I see signs in my head. I couldn't even read the tattoo on Dog Breath's back shoulder. “I remember that one place where I saw him murder a woman had pictures of Elvis everywhere. It was like a shrine and it was too cheesy to be anything but a cheap hotel.”

“Memphis?” Terry suggests.

“Can you check if a murder happened in a hotel there that resembles the murders that have happened here? She would have been a brunette. All the women he's killed in my visions have been brunettes.”

Terry flexes his shoulder beneath his jacket. “I'll dig around a little. See if I can come up with a match.”

Now that the reason I asked Terry to drop by has been set into motion, the moment grows awkward. “Would you like coffee? Herbal tea?”

“No, thanks,” Terry answers, which is good since I have neither. “I should get going. Can I take your notes with me?”

I nod. “You'll let me know if you find anything?”

He rises, so I do the same. “I'll be in touch.” Terry walks toward the door. Once he reaches it he turns back toward me. “Lou, you know you're not out of danger, right? Just because this creep hasn't murdered a woman for a couple of days doesn't mean he's no longer a problem. You understand that, right?”

Deep inside, I do know that. I figure real life is just like the movies, and about the time you think the bad guy is dead, he jumps out at you. “I understand,” I say. “Guess I'll see you around.”

“I'll be around,” he assures me. “Stay alert to your surroundings. Until I have a body, I still consider the man you blowtorched alive and dangerous. You had better do the same. In fact, I'd like you to check in with me daily.”

Interesting. “Do you always go above and beyond the call of duty like this with everyone?”

He glances at the carpet and runs a hand through his hair before glancing back up. “You're not just the job, Lou. You know that.”

I do know that. I also know that Terry's right and we have more important issues to deal with besides sex. He's someone I would like to get closer to, but until I'm sure that Dog Breath is dead, and until I know more about where I came from, and where I'm going, I have to keep some distance between us. He turns and walks down the hall. I close the door and lean with my back against it.

The door suddenly bursts open and knocks me forward. Cindy stands on the other side, her eyes wide. “Hey, what were you doing blocking the door like that?”

Rubbing the sore spot where the door banged my head, I say, “Hey, what are you doing just barging in here? Ever heard of knocking?”

“Sorry, too excited,” she says, rushing into the living room. “My mom called today. She actually called like she said she would, and guess what? She wants to see me. She wants me to come home.”

I'm stunned, and not just by the door hitting me in the back of the head. “You're going home?”

Cindy plops down on my sofa. “I'm considering it. There's a problem. She hasn't told my dad she's been in contact with me. She says I can't stay at the house.”

There are no hotels in Haven. There is one grocery store and a gas station. And there used to be a barber shop. I can't imagine Clive walking away from his business. From everything.

Moving to the couch, I sit beside Cindy. “She let your dad throw you out, Cindy. I'm not sure running home the minute she suggests it is a good idea. Shouldn't she suffer a little, like you've suffered?”

The happy look on Cindy's face fades. “She has suffered, Lou. We've both suffered because of my dad's decision. Why can't you be happy that she wants to see me?”

Why, indeed. Could it be the sudden paralyzing fear I have that Cindy will leave me? “You won't stay, will you?”

I see the lightbulb pop on in Cindy's head. “Lou,” she says softly. “I could never live in Haven again. I've made my home here, with you. We're a team. I'm only talking about a short visit. I'll be coming back.”

Relieved, I lean my aching head against the couch cushions. “Then you should go. I know you'd love to see her.”

Cindy leans back with me. “Yeah, but where will I stay? I haven't kept in touch with anyone, and the fewer people who know I'm in Haven, the less likelihood that my dad will find out about my visit.”

Now I get an idea. “You can stay at the Billingtons' house. They're not there and I still have a key.”

Chewing her bottom lip, Cindy considers my suggestion. “I don't know. That would be weird.”

It would also give Cindy time to snoop around the house and possibly learn more about the Billingtons' disappearance. “You have to go,” I decide. “And you have to see if Clive and Norma left any clues about where they went, or why.”

“I can do some detective work for you?”

This is right up her alley. “Yeah,” I answer. “Now, when do you leave?”

She grins. “I booked a flight for day after tomorrow. I'll stay in Texas until the Vermont shoot and fly in and meet everyone there.”

Two weeks without my sidekick will be tough. “I'll help you pack.”

CONFESSION NO. 17

I tell myself I'm popular now. Most of the time I even believe it. If that's true, why do all the people in my life keep running away?

The nightmare is different this time. There's no woman involved, no murder. No sex or blood. Just him and his distorted, burned face staring at me, laughing at me, taunting me. I wake in the usual cold sweat, the covers twisted around my legs. It's four in the morning, Cindy has gone to see her mother, and there's no one to comfort me. I climb out of bed and head for the kitchen.

Food will calm me. Cindy made sure we went to the grocery store before she left. She had arrived in Dallas earlier and had called to say her mother had driven to the airport to pick her up, telling the good reverend she had a doctor's appointment. I thought Cindy might call me from Clive and Norma's later this evening, but no such luck. Opening the fridge, I decide on a ham sandwich.

I pour a big glass of milk with shaking hands. Just because I saw Dog Breath in my dreams doesn't mean he's still alive. The fact it was different from the usual nightmares allows me to believe this one was simply a dream. I keep telling myself that while I scarf down a sandwich and drink my milk. An hour later, I fall asleep on the couch watching
Court TV
. The phone wakes me. I fumble for the phone I left lying on the sofa table.