DEFENGING THE EYEWITNESS (14 page)

His entire face softened. “Nobody’s ever said anything that sweet to me before. If I start pounding my chest like a gorilla, I hope you’ll excuse me.”

That surprised a giggle out of her. “Gorilla?”

“It’s always possible. You just made me feel really good. Very studly.”

She had to laugh again at his absurdity. God, she loved the way he could make her laugh. “You
are
studly.” And that was the truth, she thought. Something about him in particular. She knew of lots of attractive men around town, but none had ever awakened a smidgen of what Austin had awakened in her. Maybe it was his innate confidence. Maybe it was the sense he could take care of himself in any situation. Maybe it was the fact he could get into cooking and exchanging recipes and not feel the least uncomfortable. He could even joke about wearing a frilly apron.

It was as if he felt he had nothing left to prove. Maybe he didn’t. She wished she could feel that way.

The only shadow that crossed her mind was after they cleared away the food and he led her back to her bedroom.

“The lights are on upstairs,” she said.

“Leave them,” he murmured. “Just leave them on.”

But she didn’t miss the fact that later he went up to turn them off, then came back to her side.

Did he think they were being watched? Before the ice could begin to freeze her insides, though, he once again drew her into his arms.

“Now,” he said, “let me show you the ways I can love you.”

* * *

He not only showed her how he could love her, but also how to reciprocate. She couldn’t decide which was the more dizzying experience, what he did to her with his mouth and hands, or what he showed her to do with hers.

The latter, she finally decided. He appeared to have no inhibitions at all, but when he lay back and gave himself to her to do with as she pleased, she felt an incredible sense of delighted power.

It was like petting a lion, she thought dreamily as she ran first her hands and then her mouth over his angles and planes. He was so strong and big in every sense, and she loved feeling him quiver helplessly under her touch. He mostly allowed her to find her own way, so she paid close attention to his responses, seeking those things that made him groan.

Like his small brown nipples. They drew her, and when she finally dared to close her mouth over one, she discovered that they were as sensitive as her own. Not only did he groan, but he clutched her head gently and held her close.

“You can do that forever,” he muttered.

Joy zinged through her as she realized what she could give him. Emboldened, she continued her exploration, loving the way he writhed in pleasure but didn’t take command as he had earlier. Remembering the pleasures he had taught her with his lips and tongue, she reluctantly moved from his responsive nipples, down across his flat hard belly to the core of his manhood.

Stiff hairs tickled her nose, but she hardly noticed them. The aroma overpowered her, pleasing her with its rich muskiness. She nuzzled him and felt him buck. Then she reached for his staff, so hard and strong yet so incredibly silky and smooth. She ran her fingers lightly over it, loving the way it responded to each touch. Listening to him nearly pant as she carried him higher and higher. Her own desires were rising apace with his, making her insides tighten with hunger, pulsing with need.

Swept away on a tide of her own feelings, she then did something she had heard about but had never believed she would do.

She closed her mouth over him and mimicked the movements he had earlier made inside her.

It was like setting off a rocket. If he had wanted to delay, he couldn’t. Moments later she felt him jet, hot and salty, into her mouth.

Before she could react, he startled her by turning her over. He kissed her moist mouth, then slid down over her, tucking his head between her legs while he reached up with his fingers to tease her nipples.

She reached the pinnacle so fast under the strokes of his tongue that passion left her dizzy.

Then it left her feeling like a warm, happy puddle.

* * *

It might have been a courtesy call, the man across town told himself as he sat in front of his computer. The message had been meant to unnerve Corey, but it had been deliberately opaque. So maybe the sheriff had just showed up because he’d brought that guy to room with her. Just to check on things.

The visit had come late at night, the sheriff had come from home. Yeah, it had probably just been a friendly visit. Not a response to the note. He didn’t want Corey to guess until the last minute. He wanted her to wonder. He hoped she was thinking about what might have gotten her mother killed.

Relax, he ordered himself. Relax. Corey still hadn’t done anything different...well, except for that trip to the gym today. Maybe she was a little uneasy. He didn’t mind that. But then she’d gone and opened her store as if nothing had changed.

What he needed to focus on was that even though she had a man living in her house now, nothing had changed. He still couldn’t believe she had let the guy run home instead of offering him a ride.

Well, what could you expect from an unnatural man-hater? Like mother, like daughter indeed. She’d inherited her deviance, and maybe he shouldn’t blame her for that, but he could blame her for giving in to it. She didn’t have to indulge herself this way.

Look at him. He controlled everything in his life, allowing no overindulgence of any kind. Not in his relationships, not in his drinking, not in his eating. Corey showed no moderation at all. With her it was only women all the time. All the claptrap about her taking in roomers, he didn’t believe it. She took in her lovers. They stayed awhile, then moved on. But he didn’t know of a one of them that had married. As far as he could tell, the last woman she’d had live with her for two years hadn’t even dated.

So it was as clear as the nose on his face.

The only thing he had to decide now was when. And which note he would send her as a final note, the one he really wanted to scare her. Nobody would be able to trace it, and if someone thought it was a real threat, he intended to make sure they couldn’t do anything about it.

Fact was, if the sheriff got involved, he could wait it out. The person who would pay for the waiting was Corey. She would know she wasn’t safe.

He wondered idly if she’d run to Denver like her mother. No, he decided. She would stay right here because she knew what had happened to her mother in Denver. She wouldn’t risk running.

The trap was tightening, and she was probably only beginning to suspect it.

Satisfied, he allowed himself another sip of beer and sat staring at the last sentence on the screen.

She deserved it. So do you.

That would do it.

* * *

When morning came it was hard to tell because of the heavy curtains. Only the quiet buzz of the alarm clock alerted them.

Corey would have been happy to stay in bed all day, but she had a sewing class this morning and had to open the store. Austin settled the issue, sweeping her out of bed in his arms and carrying her laughing into her small bathroom. There, standing in the tub, he lathered her until she had to grab his shoulders to keep from collapsing.

“Hold on to that thought,” he said, grinning. “There’s tonight.”

But tonight was a long way away. Corey sighed but smiled, liking that he’d given her something to look forward to. Could life get any better?

But bit by bit, reality crept in. His smile faded. Her happiness began to flee. In the kitchen, the memory of the notes returned, hitting her as hard as a punch. She’d managed to forget them for a little while, but now they zoomed to the forefront of her mind, filling her with unease. She had the inescapable sense that someone was hunting her. Following her. Watching her. Intending far worse than a prank. Seemingly innocent, the threat of those notes once again hit her.

“Corey? What’s wrong?

She felt a superstitious dread of even mentioning those notes, as if she could push them out of reality by denying them. Oh, she was good at denial. She’d been engaging in it for years. “What name did you go by in Mexico?”

“Tino,” he said. “I went by Tino, a common nickname.” He crossed the floor to where she stood leaning against the counter, and caught her chin, making her look at him. “What’s going on? You’re not really looking like this because you’re wondering about my name.”

She started to shake her head, but he wouldn’t release her chin.

“Corey?”

“It’s the notes,” she admitted finally. “It all just kind of hit me again. What the hell does it mean, ‘Like mother, like daughterʼ?”

He hesitated, then released her chin to embrace her. “It means,” he said slowly, “that we’re going to have to solve a murder.”

Chapter 10

A
n overwhelming feeling flooded her, although she couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger. It just flooded her. She twisted out of his grasp, ready to fight.

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “The police couldn’t figure out my mother’s murder eighteen years ago. What makes you think you can do it now?” Before he could answer, she glanced at her watch and said in a steely voice, “I’ve got to get to work.”

Grabbing her tote and a sweater, she walked out without looking back. Solve a murder? Really? As if the Denver police hadn’t done their jobs when the case was fresh? Dig into that all over again now?

That was when she realized that fear was driving her not anger. She didn’t want to dig up all that again. She didn’t want to have to retrace the most painful path of her life. She was terrified that doing so might awaken memories she didn’t want to have. That it might cast her back into the darkness she had been struggling with for so long.

Her chest tightened until she felt she couldn’t draw in air. She had to slow her pace as her heart hammered loudly enough to deafen her. How could he even suggest such a thing? It was madness, and it was mean.

After last night, it only seemed meaner. He’d opened up something soft and trusting inside her, a place that had never opened before, and then he slammed her with this?

The notes were troubling, yes. Even a bit scary. But to think he could solve the murder of her mother after all this time and all the effort put into it seemed like pure hubris. Dangerous hubris. Nobody was as aware as she that she lived her life on a carefully balanced point surrounded by a moat full of monsters.

She knew why she didn’t remember, and knew equally well why she didn’t
want
to remember. Maybe he wasn’t talking about poking into that blank space in her memory, but to start trying to recall things or answer questions might only tip her into that inky moat that surrounded part of her life.

She couldn’t afford that. They’d have to find this tormentor some other way, or she’d just have to live with those unnerving notes.

There was no other way.

She reached the front door of her business and unlocked it with a sense of relief. Familiar faces would be arriving soon. She went to the bay window to check the displays, and forced herself to go through the motions of preparing for the sewing circle. When school was out and the ranches were busy, it was mostly a group of older women, but during the school year the store would swell with younger women whose children were in school. It was always a group full of good conversation. The way she felt right now, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep up her end.

Damn Austin, she thought. It was as if last night had never happened. See if she would trust a man ever again.

Lift her to a pinnacle of joy and happiness, then trash it all with a couple of words?

Damn him, she thought again, and turned to greet the first customer of the day.

* * *

Well, that had gone swimmingly, Austin thought after he cleaned up the kitchen and headed to meet the sheriff. Although maybe going to visit Dalton might not be smart. Yes, everyone around seemed to think he was a friend of Gage’s, but his paranoia was reaching new heights.

That last note had flipped some switch inside him. So much for finding a way back to ordinary life. Once again he walked the streets as a man on a covert mission, and any one of these people around him might be the threat.

He shouldn’t have let Corey walk to work on her own, yet he knew as well as anybody that changing routine could give away information. He had no proof that someone was watching Corey, no proof that she was actually being stalked, but if something changed radically, it could precipitate action. Until he had some sense of the shape of the threat here, he didn’t want this guy to have any idea that his notes were having a serious impact.

He didn’t see how dogging Corey’s steps could help. It might expose her to swift action at the first opportunity. Or it might push the problem further down the road. Hell, he hadn’t the foggiest idea what kind of person would even do something like this.

The criminals he dealt with were more like a cross between gangs and businessmen. They didn’t play these kinds of games. The guy sending these notes was savoring something. Whether it was the idea of frightening Corey, or even that he was enjoying his private knowledge of what had happened to Corey’s mother, Austin didn’t know. There was something measured in this, too, something being carefully doled out in those notes. A control freak?

Ten minutes later, he and Gage were having coffee together at Maude’s. The place was properly known as The City Diner,
as the sign out front proclaimed, but he’d swiftly learned that the locals referred to it by the owner’s name: Maude’s.

The place was only moderately busy at this hour, giving them privacy to talk and sufficient noise to prevent eavesdropping.

“So you want the whole file on Olivia Donohue?”

Austin nodded. “That last note shoved me into high gear. This guy knows something about the murder. Whether he’s going to try to hurt Corey... Well, I’m getting a bad feeling about that.”

“It grows on you,” Gage remarked. He picked up his mug. “No prints, by the way. None. And that makes me even more uneasy.”

Austin sat very still. He’d been hoping against hope that there’d been prints on that note. Not because they’d necessarily lead them to this guy, but because it would remove him from the category of major threat. If the perp was being careful enough not to leave any evidence, then he’d just moved himself into a whole new class.

“Nothing else, either,” Gage continued. “I’d have been happy to find even a cat hair.”

“Something,” Austin agreed. “This level of caution...” He left his sentence unfinished.

“I know.” Gage sighed, rubbed his chin and signaled for more coffee. In the manner to which Austin had rapidly become accustomed, Maude stomped over, poured with a grunt, then marched away. No friendly chitchat from her.

“Working a cold case is hell,” Gage remarked. “It’s hard to rustle up anything that hasn’t already been chewed over. Really, all you’ve got to count on is fresh eyes.”

“That could be enough.”

“Hope springs eternal.” He rested his elbows on the table, leaning in a bit. “There was some talk about Olivia back when.”

Austin’s attention pricked. “What kind?”

“That she was a lesbian. Didn’t date much in high school, I hear. But then she up and got pregnant and the gossip pretty much stopped. I wasn’t clued in to all that back then, since I was pretty much dealing with my own demons. I only remember it vaguely, but you know how small towns are. Somebody’s a little different, and folks start coming up with reasons.”

“Would that have been a problem here?”

“Hell, yeah. It would have been a problem a lot of places. Folks have gotten more tolerant, even here, but yeah, it would have been uncomfortable. I don’t recall hearing her giving people a reason to wonder. She just didn’t date much. Like that’s a crime.”

“Corey doesn’t date at all. Are folks talking like that about her?”

Gage shook his head. “After what that girl’s been through, people seem more than willing to cut her any slack she needs or wants. They get that she’s still frightened.”

Austin raised his brows. “I hope they don’t tell her that.”

“Why would they? They feel a lot of sympathy for her and they like her. She’s pretty popular with the sewing and quilting crowd, too. Sometimes I think more people get to her shop during a week than go to church.”

Austin laughed, but none of this was helping him get any closer to the problem. As if he realized it, Gage sighed and sipped more coffee, then fell into reflection. “I’ll get as much information out of Denver as I can. After all this time, maybe they won’t feel like we’re stepping on their toes.”

Austin was all too familiar with that reaction. Jurisdiction mattered.

“Something that’s really bugging me,” Gage said after a moment. “There was no physical evidence at the scene of Olivia’s murder, other than her and Corey, of course. No hairs, no skin flakes. Some fibers that could have come from anything—a cotton thread from a white T-shirt, a stray denim fiber or two, but nothing else.”

Austin felt his heart stop. “Not one thing?”

“Nothing the least bit useful. He must have shaved himself all over pretty good and climbed into freshly laundered clothes. Whatever he was wearing on his feet didn’t even track in anything that didn’t come from right outside the apartment. One of the crime scene techs figures he wore disposable booties over his shoes, gloves and maybe a ski mask. Hell, for all anyone knows he might have been wearing a Tyvek overall.”

Austin felt ice creep along his skin. “Completely and carefully premeditated.”

“Exactly. Which tells us only that he wanted to kill Olivia Donohue.”

“So he must have known her.”

“If I can get the report, you’ll read all about it. They checked all her known associates, even up here. Nothing. Everyone, amazingly enough, had an alibi. It would have been easier to deal with if there’d ever been another murder that fit this M.O. But there wasn’t, not before or since. A crime scene that clean stands out like a sore thumb.”

Gage paused. “For your ears only. Corey doesn’t know this and I don’t want her to know unless there’s a damn good reason. In Olivia’s papers, the cops found a receipt from a fertility clinic. Corey’s father was a vial of sperm.”

There went that possibility, Austin thought. No angry ex. “I won’t tell her,” he said. “She’s lost enough. She seems comfortable about not knowing who her father was. I’m not sure how she’d feel about this.”

“Me, neither.”

“I mean, I suppose it could be easier knowing there’s no guy out there who just didn’t want you, but that’s a boat I don’t want to rock. It hasn’t struck me as very high on her list of concerns.” But what did he know? He hardly knew the woman, he’d bedded her last night—which he was still pondering as possibly his greatest act of stupidity—but that didn’t mean he really knew what Corey thought about anything.

But who ever did know another person fully? You could spend a lifetime getting to really know someone, and then still know only part of them

Gage eased out of the booth and tossed some bills on the table. “I’ve got the coffee. I’ll get in touch with Denver.”

“Thanks.”

Austin sat there for a while, nursing his coffee and thinking. Not even Maudeʼs clomping by penetrated his deep well of thought. No father. A crime scene so clean it was memorable. Which brought him right back to those notes. They were clean, too. Not a hint or a clue on them except that they were mailed in town.

That meant the murderer was stalking Corey. But why in the hell would he do that? Just to scare her? Or to let her know he was coming, that he intended her to die the same way her mother had?

Austin had met some sick twists in his life, but this one took the cake. He had trained himself to remain calm on the job, but right now he was feeling anything but calm. A surprisingly cold anger filled him. Cold as the Arctic wastelands. He no longer had the least doubt what this guy wanted to do. The question about that had vanished.

The question now was what he was going to do about Corey to make her safe.

* * *

Early-autumn twilights lingered, not as long as at the height of the summer, but long enough. When Corey closed up her shop, there was still enough light to walk home by. Her day had been busy, filled with women she liked, and gradually she had shed her earlier anger at Austin and decided she had overreacted. After all, if he asked questions she didn’t want to answer, all she had to say was no. She’d been a child when she had learned to evade those questions, and she hadn’t lost the ability.

A lot of people were out on the still-warm evening. In the winter a lot of shops closed around six, but until then many stayed open later. It was kind of like an evening promenade, folks getting out for a postprandial stroll, kids tagging along in hopes of a stop for ice cream or another treat. The tiny ice-cream shop sold a lot of frozen yogurt these days, but inside it still looked as if it had stepped out of another time. Which it had. Once it had been the soda fountain. Now it offered ice cream, yogurt and smoothies.

Corey realized she was feeling pretty good. Almost without noticing it, she was humming a cheerful tune as she walked, pausing to speak occasionally to someone she knew. Without giving it much thought, she headed straight for the ice-cream shop. When she came out, she had a quart of rich vanilla ice cream, some nuts and a bottle of hot fudge.

She didn’t know whether Austin liked ice cream, or even which kind, so she hoped she’d picked a flavor he wouldn’t object to.

It was hard to remember that only this morning she had been mad at him and frightened by what heʼd said. Somewhere along the way today, she had fallen more often into memories of the night they had shared. So here she came, bearing gifts.

Maybe it was stupid of her, but it wasn’t as if the guy had been deliberately mean to her, even if it had felt that way for a little while. No, he’d been expressing concern. He was a cop. Of course his first thought would be about solving her mother’s murder. Man of action and all that.

She was still smiling when she arrived home and entered. She could hear Austin moving around upstairs.

“Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d better hurry before the ice cream melts.”

Then she went to the kitchen and started getting out bowls and spoons. She heard him trot down the stairs and enter the kitchen.

“Ice cream?”

“Vanilla,” she answered. “I hope you like it. I also bought nuts to put on it, and some hot fudge topping if you like.”

Then she turned and saw him standing there in jeans and a black T-shirt, his fingers jammed into his front pockets. “Really? I love ice cream.”

“Maybe I should have gotten you the kind with jalapeños in it.”

His face lightened and he laughed. “To what do I owe this?”

“It’s an apology for getting mad at you this morning. Plus, I wanted ice cream.”