The Survivor (16 page)

5:15 P.M. MONDAY

K
ariss had spent the rest of the day in her condo just as Tigo had instructed. Not unusual, since many days she worked on her latest novel, wrote blogs, responded to email and social media, and became totally immersed in whatever project needed to be completed. But staying in on those days were her choice, and today’s mandate made her feel agitated. For a while, she shoved Baxter Garrett and the culprit who’d chased her off the road from her mind. But she couldn’t chase away the idea of Tigo making a second visit today—not for a moment.

When a knock alerted her to his arrival, she nearly tripped over her own feet getting to the door. This had to stop or she’d be in his arms. The Kariss of a few months ago would have welcomed him into her home and heart without reservation. But not today. No matter how much she cared for him.

No matter how much she wanted him.

No matter how much she knew he felt the same.

No matter how much she inched toward love.

She couldn’t.

The deceit keeping them apart would be tough to resolve, but they were about to tackle it. If this relationship was going to take the next step, then honesty had to reign. Taking a deep breath to slow her pounding heart, she opened the door.

“Hey.” Tigo wore a smile that would have melted a glacier. His five o’clock shadow made him look all the more appealing. “Your friendly FBI agent is here to check on you.”

Irresistible. A hero better than any she could create. “Come in. No problems since this morning.”

Tigo stepped inside, her senses drowning in his presence. The moment she breathed in his intoxicating aroma—a fresh outdoorsy scent that reminded her of a wild ride on a motorcycle—she had to put on the brakes.

“Can I get you an iced tea or coffee?”

“No thanks. I’m good.” He grinned, and her stomach fluttered like a teenage girl’s. “Baxter Garrett is under arrest.”

“Great news. He’s a loose cannon.” She gestured toward the sofa. “Do you want to sit down?”

“How about dinner?”

Her attention flew to his handsome face.

“We can talk about the Garretts on the way there. And our situation at the restaurant.” His eyes said so much more. “I have an eight thirty appointment, so we have until eight.”

She could handle dinner away from her condo. A good choice. “Okay. I’ll grab my purse.” She headed toward her bedroom.

“You look great. Those jeans were always my favorite.”

She whipped around with a smile, warmth flooding her cheeks. How old was she again? “Thanks.”

“Do you remember the first time I asked you to dinner, and you gave me permission to access your laptop?”

She laughed. “I do. That’s when you found out I’d gotten in too deep while researching a cold case, and now it’s part of our book.” She realized she’d used the word “our.” Too late now.

“Do I need to take a look at your laptop again?”

“There’s nothing there that points to danger.”

“Kariss, this is me. Tigo. The guy you can’t fool. I can read you like a bestseller. You’re knee-deep in trouble. So what’s up?”

“I’ll tell you in the truck.” Good. Stay in control.

Once she’d snatched up her purse and her resolve to learn the truth behind the emails, she left a note for Vicki. Before she and Tigo had even driven through the security gate, he repeated his question.

“So what’s up?”

“I received another email this morning at eleven forty-five. Tried to respond, but it came back undeliverable. I assume Baxter wanted to make sure I understood his concern.”

“He was picked up at eleven thirty this morning.”

She frowned. What did it mean if Baxter hadn’t sent the second email? Shivers crept up her spine. “Well, he sent the first one.”

“Denied it. But I expected that.”

“An email can be written and then sent at a specific time.”

“Right.”

“What did Baxter’s body language say?”

“He might have been telling the truth about the email.”

She studied Tigo, wanting to ask more questions but knowing he wouldn’t violate FBI procedures. “There’s something else.”

“Spill it,” Tigo said.

“Sunday night I received a funeral wreath with a typed note.”

Tigo immediately pulled the truck into the nearest parking lot, which belonged to a shopping strip. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” He took a deep breath. “What did the card say?”

“It was addressed to me, and it had an Edgar Allan Poe quote on it. Something about the shadowy boundaries between life and death.” Kariss was amazed at her control. “I phoned the floral shop. A man wearing a baseball cap that hid his face walked in and paid cash for it.”

“I’d like to see the note.”

She reached inside her purse, retrieved the note, and laid it on the center console. “I’m sure it was Baxter.”

He opened the note and studied it. “Hard for me to believe Baxter is this smart. Doesn’t strike me as the poetic type.” He stuck it in his pants pocket. “I’ll keep the note for now. See what I can find out.”

Tigo drove them to a popular seafood restaurant and escorted
her inside. Kariss hoped the hum of voices filling the room would hide the secrets of her heart. She focused on the Cajun decor mounted on the wall—a life-size stuffed alligator, a rusted canoe, a single oar, and a chipped sign that read “Gumbo and Dirty Rice.”

“Do you remember this place?”

“Sure.” How could she forget any of the places the two of them had frequented together?

Tigo wore khakis and a light-blue shirt under his brown jacket. Casual yet professional. She realized he’d fit anywhere, but maybe not with her.

She ordered Chilean sea bass with lump crab gratin, sautéed spinach, and roasted tomatoes. He ordered blackened catfish with shrimp, oysters, and crawfish in a lemon-butter sauce, served with fried rice and extra jalapeños.

“And a bowl of seafood gumbo,” he said to the young man taking their order. “Can you toss a few jalapeños in there as well?”

“You have a cast-iron stomach,” Kariss said once the waiter disappeared.

He leaned on the table. “But my heart’s soft as putty.”

“Is it, Tigo?”

“I blew it with us.”

“So then why are we here?”

He drew in a breath. “You’re not making this easy.”

While they waited for their food, Kariss asked questions about Baxter to avoid the dead silence and awkwardness of their situation. She wanted their relationship to work, but she was afraid of getting hurt again. “I’m assuming Amy was right when she talked about his temper?”

He nodded. “With his dicey attitude and past record, I’m surprised he hasn’t done time.”

“Maybe his dark side is revealed only when it comes to his sister, and he’s simply overprotective.”

“He claims to have an alibi for Friday morning, by the way.”

“If the Garrett family’s as dysfunctional as I think they are, they’ll probably cover for him.” She regretted her judgmental thoughts. “I’m sorry. I’ve never met the older Garretts. I have no clue what they’re like.”

“We’ll look into them and their son. But unfortunately, his license plate doesn’t have a V8 in it, and other than a dent in the rear bumper, there was no sign that the truck had recently been in an accident. We’ve also confirmed that it doesn’t have custom rims.”

More bad news. “So Amy was right about the custom rims. But if it wasn’t Baxter, then who was it?” She shook her head. “Of course you don’t know.”

“What have you done to make someone angry enough to possibly want you dead?”

She startled. She hadn’t considered anyone wanting her dead, just deterred from writing Amy’s story. Tigo was overreacting. “Could this be carryover from the gun-smuggling case?”

He lifted a brow. “Those guys are either buried or in jail, so they couldn’t have run your car off the road. Bad guys play for keeps. If they wanted you dead, they wouldn’t have run you off the road and then left without making sure they finished the job.”

Oh yes, she recalled the repercussions of upsetting the wrong people.

“I’ll rest my case on your observations—for now,” Tigo said. “But what about the emails? Would you forward all of them so we can put a trace on them?”

“Sure.” Kariss reconsidered the content of the emails and grew perturbed at her lack of sleuthing skills. “I must be losing my touch.”

He smiled. “What have you put together?”

“The emails sent from S. Todd and J. T. Ripper? Sweeney Todd and Jack the Ripper slit their victims’ throats. The sender must have thought he was being clever. That pattern also fits the sender of the card and funeral wreath.”

“More evidence of someone’s instability. Garrett probably arranged to have the second email sent at a designated time. Ties in too closely to his sister’s attack.” Tigo took a long drink of iced tea. The look of desire he gave Kariss made her shiver. Especially since she felt the same. She stared at the canoe displayed on the wall … it had a huge hole and no bucket.

Her iPhone buzzed, alerting her to a Facebook post. In an attempt to keep her feelings for Tigo at a distance, she took a glance. “Amazes me the number of weirdos roaming the streets. Mike McDougal is one of them.”

“What now?”

“He tagged me regarding his latest blog. Why can’t the man leave it alone? Find another female to exasperate.”

“He can’t get you out of his system. You’ve handled him before and done a fine job.”

She frowned. “Right. He called today wanting information about the accident. Warned me about my lack of cooperation.”

“Oh, let’s hear the blog post. It’ll give us some comic relief.”

Kariss doubted Mike’s blog would offer any humor, but she brought it up and dived into his latest post.

“‘Houston’s own Kariss Walker,
New York Times
bestselling author, has proven again that her past friends are exactly that—the past. Upon learning she’d been in a hit-and-run accident, I called to make sure she was okay. I wanted to check to see if she was hurt or needed anything. What a waste. She tossed me off like yesterday’s trash. I’d seen her in December at Houston’s Annual Authors’ Dinner, and she’d ignored me then too. Odd, she didn’t have her FBI bodyguard boyfriend with her at the event. Probably why she wore a low-cut, red-sequined gown and a come-on look that said she was single again. Saw her alone at a New Year’s Eve gala as well. Whoa. Short and black. The sirens went nuts. In any event, Ms. Walker’s attitude will one day cost her admirers. Could be today.”

Tigo chuckled. “I missed the red-sequined gown and the short, black getup?”

“Neither was cut low.” She shook her head. McDougal infuriated her. “Just simple evening dresses.”

“Did he ask you out, or shouldn’t I ask?”

She wanted to smack the smirk off Tigo’s face. “He did, but I was strong and didn’t fall for his charms. At least he doesn’t know about my friendship with Amy Garrett, or he’d be after an exclusive.”

Tigo studied her. His face softened, indicating his teasing had vanished. “Kariss, why do you think you’re being targeted? The sender of those emails is aligning himself with villains who enjoyed a neck spray.”

“No clue. That’s your department.” She remembered what Amy had said about her assailant quoting lines from Truman Capote’s
In Cold Blood.
The email sender’s names … Fiction … A man who read stories about violent crimes …

No, that wasn’t possible. Why would he know about her or have her email address? She wouldn’t even mention it.

Tigo reached for her hand. The moment his fingers touched hers, she slid her hand back. Burned. Every definition of the word raced across her mind.

“Sorry.” He picked up his glass again, but it didn’t reach his lips. “Is there someone else?”

How could there ever be? “No. Just me and my laptop. Living in a fiction world keeps me busy.” She wanted to laugh but couldn’t.

“I miss you, more than I ever thought possible,” he said. “What I wouldn’t give for an opportunity to start over. To show you I can be the man who makes you happy.” He sighed and set the glass on the table. “I want to tell you the truth—about everything.”

She missed him too, ached for him. But she chose silence.

“Kariss, we can’t keep running around the track. To make things work between us, we’ve got to jump the hurdle.” He leaned back in his chair. “Let me tell you what I do know. I’ve read enough of the Bible and listened enough in church
to understand that you’d never consider a serious relationship with a guy who doesn’t share your beliefs. But even if I became a Christian this very minute, it wouldn’t make any difference if I couldn’t tell you why I kept my divorce from you.”

He’d said it. The big ugly. She nodded and noted the thickening in her throat.

“I hurt you, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He brushed his hand through his hair. “I kept putting it off. Then it was too late. You found out from Linc.”

Kariss knew this was hard for Tigo, but she wouldn’t interrupt or talk about Linc’s role.

“The Monday after Thanksgiving, he told me what happened,” he said. “I was down. Told him we’d split. He said he’d told you it had been a long time since he’d seen me happy. Thanked you. Told you that after Erin lost the baby and divorced me, I’d lost focus. That I’d headed off to Saudi.”

“You can’t blame Linc.”

“I don’t. Only my own stupidity.”

Why did Kariss fear losing Tigo by asking for more information? She couldn’t lose someone she no longer had. “Do you want to continue?”

“No. But I will. There’s a lot at stake.” He sipped his iced tea. A frown creased his brow. “I could use something stronger, but liquid courage isn’t my poison anymore.”

Kariss wondered how the rest of the story would affect her heart.

“Erin and I met in college and married two weeks after graduation. We were young. Thought a good time in bed was the basis for life. We argued right from the start. Sarcasm was at an all-time high. Within the first year, we got pregnant. My dad hadn’t been there for me, and I refused to be the same as him. So I tried to keep our marriage afloat. Really tried. Later I learned Erin had given up on the marriage before she even learned about the pregnancy. Then she miscarried.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “When the doctor released
her from the hospital, she went to a hotel. While I was at work, her parents drove in from West Virginia and moved her home with them. That’s it. Pathetic, huh?”