Silver Falls (9 page)

“Easier said than done.” She wanted to deny that she needed help—she'd been on her own for so long she wasn't used to having someone else she could depend on. Which was a funny way to think, considering she was newly married.

“That sounds good,” she said after a moment. “And don't worry about us. If things get too stressful I can always take Sophie and leave town for a little while. We haven't been away from here in the four months since we arrived.”

For a moment Maggie didn't say anything. “That might be a good idea. Are you going to tell David where you're going?”

“Why wouldn't I?” She looked at Maggie. “Seriously, is there a reason why I shouldn't? You'd tell me if there was?”

“I have no reason to tell you not to tell David where you're going,” Maggie said carefully.

“Maybe he could even come with us.”

Maggie didn't blink. “Maybe.”

“What aren't you telling me, Maggie Bannister?”

“I'm telling you everything I can tell you. If I were you I'd be very careful who I trusted in this town. People are never exactly what you think they are.”

“Are you talking about David? Or Caleb?”

“I wish I knew the answer to that, Rachel. I truly do. Keep a close eye on the girls, will you?”

“At least tell me whether we're safe or not.”

“As far as I can prove, you're completely safe,” Maggie said, getting back in her patrol car. “Just be careful.”

 

The house was still and quiet once Maggie picked up Kristen and Sophie. Rachel had done everything she could to talk Sophie into staying home, but Maggie was right—she and Kristen were really doing so much better together, going with the kind of cold-blooded ghoulishness that only teenagers could possess. By the time Maggie came to pick them up they'd moved on to a critical discussion of the relative hotness of the junior varsity soccer team. She watched them leave, Sophie's long blond hair tangled down her back, Kristen's dark waves beside hers, bumping into
each other deliberately as they walked. They looked so innocent, so normal, so untouched.

That was why she'd come here, why she'd married David Middleton in the first place. To provide a safe, traditional, normal environment for her daughter.

And now, in this cold, rain-drenched, perfect little town nestled in the shadows of Silver Mountain, it was almost as bad as San Francisco had been. At least Sophie hadn't known the victims, and with the resiliency of youth she seemed to have forgotten that less than six months ago she'd lost her best friend in a similar manner. There were times when Rachel would have given ten years off her life for Sophie's calm nature.

She waved to Maggie, still in the patrol car, and shut the door behind them. The house was dark except for the lights left on in the family room, and she could hear the voices from the television. She started going through the house, turning on every light she could find. Most of them were those damned energy-efficient models that only cast a cool blue light. She was all for saving the planet but living in this drab darkness was enough to send her over the edge.

Once every one was lit the place looked a little less gloomy. David's Mayan death masks on the wall weren't as threatening, the twisted iron floor
lamps not as tortured. She moved back to turn off the TV, then thought better of it. The noise, the motion was a companion, making the house seem marginally cheerier. She switched from
Jerry Springer
to HGTV, then headed back to the kitchen to survey the massive refrigerator David had bought her. The refrigerator that never held enough food, since David abhorred waste.

A nice rare steak and some asparagus would have been perfect, accompanied by a good cabernet. They could light the gas pilot in the fireplace, stretch out on the thick Berber carpet and have a wickedly indulgent time of it. Except that David no longer ate red meat. Or fish. Or chicken. He grew pale at the thought of blood and animal flesh made him ill. How the hell was she going to come up with a romantic dinner on a vegetarian diet?

She'd go for a quiche or pasta but now he was toying with the idea of cutting out eggs and cheese. She'd have to make do with some kind of twigs and berries. He refused to eat anything with a face on it, and while she admired his ethics, there were times when her own cravings just got too strong. He was a far better person than she was.

There were Mint Milanos hidden behind the crock of whole-wheat flour, ostensibly bought for Sophie. Considering that she kept going through the packages and replacing them before she got to
pass them along, she should have known better, but the latest package hadn't been opened. She ripped it apart, shoved one in her mouth, letting the richness of the chocolate slide across her tongue, and she took the first deep breath she'd taken in hours. In a world with chocolate, nothing could ever be that bad.

So, nuts and fruits and berries and twiggy grains for dinner, washed down with a nice cabernet. Or should she go white for twigs? The one thing she could do was make herself as irresistible as possible, and then maybe David wouldn't care so much about food.

She double locked the front door, then headed into her private bathroom, stripping off her clothes and climbing into the shower. Soap was a turn-on for David—in fact, he usually liked her to shower just before they had sex, and then immediately after. Which always managed to ruin the mood for her, just a bit, but he had a few hang-ups he still had to work out. She could be patient. After all, it wasn't as if she was the epitome of sexuality herself. Pleasant was good enough.

Hot sex usually led to disaster, and she hadn't had an orgasm since Jared had taken off so long ago. Then again, how could anything that brought her Sophie ever be considered a disaster?

She took a long, leisurely shower. This would
be a perfect time to get past the unpleasantness of the night before. Maybe they could bring their relationship to a new level—he was oddly shy, never letting her see him without clothes. Maybe, without Sophie around, he could relax, maybe consider something new.

Tonight would improve things. Whether she was in the mood or not. She washed her hair and let it hang down her back—when it dried it would be a riot of curls but right then the weight of the dampness kept it relatively straight, another thing David liked.

Unbidden, the memory of Caleb Middleton's outrageous question came back to her. “Does he go down on you?”

He probably already knew the answer. David was sedate and pleasant. They made love in the darkness, politely, infrequently, and his performance issues were recurrent. Which was fine with Rachel. David was gentle, loving, always thoughtful. It would be ridiculous to expect more—she doubted more even existed.

She pulled on a long, flowing skirt from Thailand and the sexiest top she still had—a clinging silk knit over the last Victoria's Secret bra she owned. She looked damned good in that underwear, and to top it off she put on her favorite pair of silver earrings, the ones that brushed her shoulders.

She was just finishing up her makeup when she saw the headlights in the driveway, and she rushed out of her room, a little nervous, a little edgy. She'd already opened the wine. The fruit was washed and set out, along with the grain mixture that David swore by. The message light was flashing—someone must have called while she was in the shower—but she could hear David at the door. The message could wait.

She tugged her shirt lower, so that the swell of her breasts was appetizingly visible, then bit her lips to redden them in lieu of the lipstick David hated.

She didn't even wait for him to put the key in the door. She flung it open, saying, “Hello, sexy.”

And looked straight into Caleb Middleton's dark, unreadable eyes.

“S
orry to spoil your plans, sweetheart,” Caleb said. “But all this is wasted on me. You had me at hello.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Rachel snapped.

“Don't let David hear you say that,” he said, moving past her. The small hallway led into a wide rectangle of a living room, all angles and planes and gleaming wood floors and not a speck of dust. A fire was lit, there were candles burning and the table was set for two. He left his shoes on when he knew David insisted on their removal at the door, tossing his battered leather jacket over a chair. “Where is he, by the way?”

“That's what I'd like to know,” she grumbled. To his surprise she didn't automatically sweep up his coat and hang it in the closet, the way David would have done, and she didn't give him shit about his shoes. David hadn't brainwashed her completely. Maybe there was hope for her after all. “And what are you doing here?”

He couldn't stop looking at her mouth. It was red—he knew it wasn't left over from the kiss they'd shared hours earlier, but it was all he could think of. “My brother invited me for dinner. He thought we needed some family time. Didn't he bother to tell you?”

“I haven't seen him since I left…your place.” Her stumble over the words was so slight that most people wouldn't have noticed. She was remembering the kiss as well. Good.

Without another word she spun around and headed for the kitchen, her skirts swirling around her long legs. Caleb took a moment to appreciate it, as well as the sway of her hips and the bounce of her tangled auburn hair, and then he followed her, just in time to hear his brother's voice on the answering machine, a pale copy of Stephen Henry's rich, Shakespearian tones. Rachel hit the delete button before he could make out the message, but the expression on her face wasn't happy.

“He's been held up,” she said briskly. “Something to do with on-campus grief counseling. He's very good at that, you know.”

“I expect he is.”

“So maybe you'd better take a rain check. There's no telling when he'll get back.” She made a move toward him, as if to shoo him out, but he wasn't in the mood.

“Oh, I wouldn't think of it, after you've gone to so much trouble.”

She was just managing to control her temper. “I haven't gone to any trouble at all. David's a vegetarian—he gets twigs and berries. You strike me as a meat and potatoes kind of guy.”

“I do have healthy appetites…What do you eat here? Hummingbird tongues?”

“He who dines only on hummingbird tongues is destined to starve to death?” she quoted back at him. “I eat meat. Just not when David's around. He's too sensitive.”

Caleb said nothing, moving over to the massive refrigerator and peering inside. “You've got jack-shit to eat in there. Doesn't Sophie get any junk food?”

“Sophie's none of your business,” she said, trying not to look uneasy and failing completely. “In fact, she has her own refrigerator in her room, where she can have all the garbage she wants. Fortunately she's always been a wise child and she'll eat anything interesting.”

He nodded, closing the barren refrigerator door. Not even a beer in sight. “Where is she?”

“None of your damned business.”

“It's a logical question. Clearly she's not here. You had this big seduction scene all set up so you had to have stashed her somewhere, which kind
of surprises me. You strike me as an overprotective mother.”

“I'm not overprotective, I'm normal,” she shot back. “And Sophie's spending the night at her best friend's house, who happens to be the daughter of the chief of police.”

He nodded. “Very wise. And your police chief doesn't have a hell of a lot to do now that the FBI are pushing their way around here.”

“How did you know that?”

“Because they already questioned me,” he said, a tossed off line, waiting to see her reaction. “Tell you what—let's go out and find something to eat.”

“You're kidding.”

“David isn't going to be home till late, so your Mata Hari routine is wasted, unless you want to practice on me. I'm hungry, and by the looks of your refrigerator I'm guessing you're hungry, too.”

She didn't move. “You think I'd go to a restaurant with you and have dinner while half the town looks on and gossips? Fat chance.”

“Good point. Though I don't know why you should let gossip bother you if you know it isn't true. Or is it the faculty-wife thing, then? Caesar's wife must be above reproach.”

“I have a sense of propriety.”

“Do you? You can't imagine how much that disappoints me. I thought you were a wild child
with a reckless streak who simply made the mistake of marrying the wrong man. Maybe you're ordinary after all.”

“It's not going to work. You can't goad me into behaving badly just because you want to injure your brother.”

“I don't want to injure David.”

She looked at him, startled, and he realized his tone of voice must have given something away. He smiled his most rakish smile. “And I don't care whether you behave badly or not. I just want the dinner promised me and company while I eat. You look like you could do with a few calories yourself. Where's your coat?”

“You're really asking for it,” she said, and he realized she thought he was mocking her. She had the beautiful curves of a Botticelli Venus, but there was a faintly hungry air to her, one that he was more than willing to feed in any way she'd let him.

He looked at her, trying to size her up, and then he grinned. “I know your tipping point.”

“I doubt it.”

“Your daughter's out for the night, your husband's off counseling distraught young women, and your only responsibility is to see that your unwanted guest is fed. Get in the car.”

“Go to hell.”

“Not without you, babe. Get in the car and I'll fulfill your deepest, most-secret desires…”

“This is getting tiresome—”

“And I won't even touch you to do it.”

“Ha!” She kept edging away from him, but fortunately she was heading in the direction of the front door. Maybe she thought she was leading him there. If so, she was coming, too.

“You doubt me? I won't lay a finger on you, Scout's honor. You're not my type.”

That bugged her, as he'd meant it to, but she tried to hide her reaction. “Were you ever a Boy Scout?” she said doubtfully.

“Drummed out in Cub Scouts. David made it to Eagle level.” Looking innocent was not a major part of his arsenal, but he did his best. “I double dog dare you.”

She was wavering. “Not a finger?”

He resisted his flippant response. “I won't even breathe on you. Come on, Rachel. Live dangerously. This staid life doesn't suit you.”

“It suits me very well,” she said far too unconvincingly.

“I tell you what. If I don't bring you undeniable sensual pleasure, in absolute privacy without laying a hand on you, then I promise to leave town tomorrow and not come back.” He was lying, of course. He'd left things alone for far too long, but
she wasn't going to know that. As far as she knew his return was incidental and could be ended just as easily. “Now that's an offer you can't refuse.”

She stared at him for a long, thoughtful moment. “Let me get my purse.”

“You won't need it.”

“How about shoes?”

“You won't need those either.”

“And you're not—” she stopped midsentence. Poor grumpy baby—David had done a number on her. She didn't trust him, but she also didn't believe she was any kind of real temptation. Maybe the time would come when he could demonstrate just how tempting she really was, but that time wasn't tonight.

“I promise,” he said, finishing her sentence.

She blew out the candles she'd set out for her seduction scene, turned off the gas fire, grabbed a brightly colored ruana and faced him, Joan of Arc at the stake. “I'm ready.”

She said nothing when he opened the door of the rental Four Runner. She slid in, wrapping the shawl around her, and fastened her seat belt as he climbed into the driver's side. It was a chilly night, and he turned the heat on full blast for her bare feet, then pulled away from the house.

He knew where Maggie Bannister lived, assuming she hadn't moved in the last ten years, and people never moved in Silver Falls. He could swing
by there, lure Sophie into the car, and drive the two of them, probably kicking and screaming, all the way to California or Texas or Montana, get them as far away from this town and the secrets it held before they could become snared.

But it would be hard as hell driving with two angry women beating at him, though he could probably count on Sophie to be on his side. And in fact, did he have any real reason to worry? They weren't David's type.

No, he had some breathing room. Silver Falls College had any number of students who would fit the victim profile well before either of the two women who lived with David Middleton would.

To get them out of town would be a fail-safe, but probably more trouble than it was worth.

“What are you thinking about?”

He turned and looked at her. She looked a little smaller in the front seat of his car, her hair dark in the shadows, her eyes troubled and wary.

“I was thinking I might kidnap you and your daughter,” he said, waiting for her reaction.

“Fat chance. I spent fourteen years traveling on my own and with Sophie—people have a very hard time getting the drop on me.”

“Good to know,” he said. “So why did you trade being a nomad to this kind of life?”

“It was time. Sophie needed some stability, and she needed a father.”

“And you chose David?” He couldn't keep the ridicule out of his voice.

But this time she didn't rise to the bait. “I chose David. Where are we going?”

He was heading straight out of town, the streetlights getting fewer and farther between. “It's a surprise.”

“I don't like surprises.”

“I bet you do. You just got out of the habit of them.”

She didn't deny it. That was one thing he liked about her—for all that she saw him as the enemy, she didn't lie. It was a rare gift.

Now if he asked her if she liked their afternoon kiss she'd probably say no, but that was wishful thinking, not falsehood. She probably thought she was immune to him. Few women were when he put his full effort into it—it was both a curse and a gift. She'd probably prove more difficult than most. And yet he had no doubt he could do it, and would.

But he had something extra on his side, that small advantage that would sway the battle. He actually wanted her.

Sure, he wasn't going to let anything bad to happen to her and her daughter. He didn't want her
the prey or even the unwitting accomplice of a madman. And he'd do anything he could to keep her safe, including scare her out of town if the need arose.

But on top of everything else, he wanted her. He glanced over at her feet—small, bare toes peeking out from under the colorful skirt. Her hands were holding the wrap around her shoulders. Good hands, long fingers, delicate but deft. He really wanted those hands on his body.

But most of all he wanted to be on top of her, skin to skin, thrusting inside her, looking into her eyes with no lies and no masks between them.

He shifted uncomfortably on the seat as he hit the interstate. Fantasies like that would only get him in trouble, distract him from his main goal. Rachel Middleton was a pawn in the middle, an admittedly delicious pawn, but a danger all the same. If David had even the faintest idea how much he wanted her then he'd have an unfair advantage over him. His undeniable attraction to Rachel was making him vulnerable, and he couldn't afford to let that happen. Not if he was going to stop David.

Except that perhaps it was already too late. David had known exactly what he was doing when he invited him over to dinner. Throw him into close contact with his wife and watch the sparks fly. He
couldn't even begin to guess what was going on in his brother's tortured mind, and part of him didn't want to know. The possibilities were endless and horrifying.

At least it was highly unlikely that David was hurting anyone while he was in absentia. His needs had been very precise—like a snake who only needed to feed once a week.

But even as that iron control was coming undone, he was just as freakishly smart as he'd always been. He'd be too smart to risk making another move so soon. Unless he'd really lost it, and if that was the case, they were all fucked.

 

Rachel shifted in the seat as they sped down the interstate. Caleb wasn't about to tell her where he was taking her—she'd asked enough times. All she could do was sit there and realize what a total idiot she'd been to say yes.

He had just about the worst reputation in Silver Falls, as far as she could tell, and everyone in Stephen Henry's living room had tensed up when he walked in. Even her even-tempered husband had freaked out.