Out Of Control (14 page)

“It’s
the lead story on the morning news on television.”

Without
waiting for an invitation, she sat down in the chair Tate had vacated earlier.

“Yeah,
so I heard.” Cole shook his head. “I really wanted to keep a lid on things, but
bad news travels fast.”

“News
like this has a way of leaking no matter what you do,” she pointed out. “Especially
these days when everyone is overdosed on electronics.” She cleared her throat. “As
a matter of fact, I was hoping you could give me a little information about it.”

“What
for? It has nothing to do with your book. No relationship to the cases you’re
looking into.”

She
fiddled nervously with the bracelet on her wrist.

Even
as tired and harassed as he was, Cole still managed to appreciate the silken
fall of her hair that brushed her shoulders and the bright blue of her eyes that
almost matched the color of her shirt. Out of nowhere, the dream from the other
morning smacked him again, reminding him of the feel of her breasts in his
hands, the taste of her nipples. Of sliding his fingers into her waiting cunt,
teasing her sweet spot to bring her to full arousal. Even though none of it had
been real.

Jesus!
He couldn’t believe himself. A nasty murder, and he was thinking about sexual
fantasies. He was either too stressed out or losing his mind. And he didn’t
have time to be embarrassed by the hardness of his cock pressing against his
jeans, eager to get out and slip into Dana Moretti’s warm, welcoming core.

Welcoming?
She’d probably squeeze it to death with a wrench if she knew what he was
thinking. Mentally, he shook himself and tried to focus on what she was saying.

When
she spoke, he could tell she chose her words carefully.

“I
think whatever happens in this town is important to my book. Even this many
years later. I’ve learned not to pick and choose what’s significant because you
might miss something. Call me an idiot. I’m sure everyone else will. But I have
this gut feeling that this is connected to those old child murders.”

Cole
studied her, frowning. He’d had the same unwelcome thought, without any rhyme
or reason. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Dana. You of all people should know
I can’t discuss any of this.”

“I
was hoping you’d at least tell me what you told the media. I know you made a
statement earlier. The vultures are still clustering outside.”

“Sure.
I can give you this.” He plucked a sheet of paper from the In Box on his desk
and handed it to her.

She
scanned it quickly. “Was the victim…molested in anyway?”

He
raked his fingers through his hair. “I really can’t discuss any details with
you. And I’m sorry to be rude, but I have to get back to work.”

As
if he’d willed it, the phone on his desk chose that moment to ring.

“Nita
Sanchez is here and wants to discuss the post with you,” Grace told him.

“Five
minutes,” he said and dropped the receiver into the cradle.

“The
other thing I came to tell you is I’ve written about horrific cases like this before.
If you need to pick my brain I’m available.” Dana rose from her chair. “And don’t
close your mind to the possibility this is related to those old cases. Maybe my
looking into them has stirred somebody up.”

“Shit.
I hope not.”

“Me,
too.” She hitched the strap to her purse over her shoulder “I’ll get out of
your hair now.”

Then
she was gone, leaving behind a delicate trace of a floral perfume. He wondered
what was in the heavy load of baggage she carried around with her. Something
had fucked up her mind. Last night, for a brief moment, she’d really been into the
kiss. The next second, she’d been terrified.

Well,
it was a puzzle he’d have to set aside, at least for now. He went to the door
and motioned for Nita to come in.

****

Dana
tossed her purse onto the passenger seat of her car and leaned back in the
seat. What stupidity had prompted her to come here? She wasn’t a novice in
these situations. But all she could think of was a murder had been committed in
a town where the last violent death was Kylie’s. She just couldn’t get rid of
the sick feeling that her appearance in High Ridge had somehow triggered this
latest crime.

The
look on Cole’s faced when she asked about the molestation had told her more
than words could.

It
was
him
. She just knew it.

She
closed her eyes and waited for the racing of her heart to slow. Already nervous
about seeing Cole again after last night, she’d acted like a rank amateur,
asking him for information she knew he couldn’t release.

Stupid,
stupid, stupid.

She
sighed and pushed her hair back from her face. Maybe she’d stop at Harry’s for
coffee and toast…and a little eavesdropping. She might pick up a nugget or two.
That is if the people gathering there wouldn’t be too bothered by a stranger in
their midst.

Which
was a fifty-fifty chance at best, but one she couldn’t pass up.

****

He
ran his eyes over her in an unhurried fashion, taking in every inch as she
entered the diner. She couldn’t be more than five-four, her trim figure looking
smart in navy slacks and a blue shirt. Her rich, thick, dark golden hair swung
easily across her shoulders, tempting his touch.

She
was so much older than he preferred, but she still had a fresh look that
appealed to him. Oh, yes. He would enjoy it when he finally had his time with
her.

He
wondered how she responded to pain these days. He’d never realized, until the
first time, how creating it could be such an intoxicating aphrodisiac. One that
made his penis swell to enormous size. Oh, how he loved it. He could hardly
wait to have to his next victim.

A
chance snippet of conversation this morning had planted the seed for who that
would be. Now he just had to scope her out and make his plans.

He
watched Carrie choose a counter stool rather than a booth, putting herself
right out there for people to see. Guts. She’d be a fighter. God, he could
hardly wait.

He’d
have her. And then it would be done, his need satisfied and he could fade back
into the woodwork.

****

Dana
could feel eyes boring holes into her back as she hitched herself up on the
counter stool. Conversation had dropped a decibel or two when she walked in.
Not enough to make her center stage. Just enough to let her know they’d seen
her and she wasn’t winning any popularity contests.

She
was certain John Garrett had passed the word. And that Jane Milburn had huddled
with her friends about it. Yup. She was certain everyone in High Ridge knew by
now she was the bitch who was going to dig into something they’d spent
twenty-five years covering up and trying to forget.

The
air was redolent with the aroma of bacon and eggs, pancakes, and strong coffee.
Even the faint scent of horseflesh—probably from the ranchers in town for
business and breakfast after the morning chores at the ranch.

“Coffee?”

Dana
looked up, startled at the woman standing in front of her holding a coffee
carafe. The look on her face would have rivaled Cole’s for hostility.

“Yes,
please. And some toast, if I could.”

The
woman dragged a mug out from beneath the counter and filled it. “White or rye.”

“Rye.
Thank you.”

“You
ought to eat a good breakfast,” the woman told her. “Give you energy when you
get on the road.”

“Thanks,
but I’m not going anywhere.”

“Pity.
Oh, well. I’ll get that toast.” She put the carafe back on the warmer and
pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen. In a few minutes, she was
back, slamming the plate on the counter.

So
much for small town hospitality.

Then
out of nowhere, Dana felt the thrust of evil, blanketing her like a cloak.
Threatening to suffocate her. Choking her. Her coffee threatened to surge back
up in her throat. She picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it, hoping to
control the convulsive nausea. As casually as she could, toast in hand, she
swiveled on the stool and let her eyes roam over the customers.

Everyone
was drinking their coffee, eating their breakfast, chatting with their
neighbors. No one seemed to be paying any particular attention to her. No one
even looked familiar. Of course, after all these years, people changed
physically, so whoever she sensed the feeling from could be anyone.

But
she knew he was here, just the same. He was still in his hunting ground. In
High Ridge, right here in Harry’s Diner.

Stalking
her.

He’d
lost her all those years ago. Now he was going to finish the job. Last night
had just been a prelude. She felt that inevitable truth straight to the core of
her body. But if she said it out loud, no one would believe her.

“I
see you’re still here.”

Dana
turned her head to see John Garrett sliding onto the stool next to her. “I am.
Despite the fact that I’m turning into the town’s Typhoid Mary.”

“Dana,
you look like a smart person. I’ve read a couple of your books, and you’re an
excellent writer. Intuitive. Sensitive.”

She
felt herself blush. In this town, she’d take compliments wherever she could
find them. “Thank you.”

“Oh,
I’m not here to give you strokes. I’m trying to figure out why someone like you
hasn’t gotten the message that High Ridge doesn’t want you to open old wounds.
Surely there must be another crime you could chase after. Somewhere else.”

She
tightened her hands on her mug. “Let me ask you a question, John. Professional
to professional.”

Garrett
signaled for the waitress to bring him a full mug. “Lay it on me.”

“Doesn’t
anyone think it would arouse my suspicions if they just shut me out? That I
might think they have something to hide? Aren’t there people who want to know
what really happened? Find out who committed these dreadful crimes?”

He
nodded his thanks for the coffee. “See, Dana, it’s like this. The families
whose children were victims are still dealing with the shock and grief after
all these years. It tore people apart. Destroyed marriages. You think they want
to bleed all over again?”

“Maybe
it would be good for them. They could finally have some closure.”

“How
would you feel if you were in their situation?”

“How
do you think they feel with the latest murder?” she asked. “Everyone here
operates on the theory that if you don’t acknowledge something, it will go
away. But now here’s this new murder. It opens up the possibility that another
predator has decided to make High Ridge his feeding ground.”

John
blew on the hot coffee, then took a sip. “Jesus, I hope not. It’s bad enough as
it is.”

“Or
maybe,” she said quietly, “it’s the same killer hunting again.”

John
nearly dropped his mug. “You’d be wise not to go around voicing that theory.
Everyone knows whoever it was is long gone.”

“That’s
what everyone wants to believe,” she corrected.

“It’s
the truth,” he said stubbornly.

“So
what will you be putting in the paper, John?” She sipped at the hot coffee.

“Not
much. There’s not much to tell. But we sure won’t be digging up the past.”

Dana
frowned. “Sheriff Landry gave me a copy of the release. If she was taken in the
Supermart parking lot, I’m surprised someone didn’t see her.”

“She
was parked way over to the side, not too visible, I guess.”

Dana
watched his face as she asked the next question. “I assume she was raped?”

“Yeah.”
Garrett sighed. “Sheriff’s not giving out any details on that, but scuttlebutt
says it was pretty brutal.”

It’s
him. I know it’s him.

She
had to get out of here. Dropping the half-eaten toast back on her plate, she
fished some singles out of her purse and dropped them on the counter.

“Thanks,
John. I think.” She made a show of looking at her watch. “I need to get going.”

“Leave
the people alone, Dana,” he repeated.

“We’ll
see.”

She
escaped before anyone else could add their two cents and locked herself in her
car, shaking, watching through her sunglasses to see who came out of Harry’s after
she did. But no one seemed particularly interested in her or where she’d gone.
And the feeling of evil didn’t reach out to grip her again.

Did
he know who she was? Had he somehow, after all these years, recognized her? For
a minute there, she had been back in that barn, consumed with fear and pain.

No.
This was ridiculous.

Yet
somehow she’d picked up on his thoughts and they related to her.
Dana. Not
Carrie.
That was even scarier.

She
sat for a full five minutes, deep breathing and pulling herself together. She
hadn’t felt this much fear since she was seven years old and made the worst
decision of her life.