Trial by Fire (34 page)

“That’s evil!” Kat shuddered. “I don’t know what I thought to accomplish by making you do this, and you don’t look well. Why don’t we go?”

“You didn’t force me, sweetheart. To be honest, I should’ve done this long ago. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t have nightmares.”

Even as he said it, he wondered whether this was the case. He might’ve simply had them sooner.

“Maybe,” she said, clearly not believing it herself. “Let’s finish up so we can go home and have some hot chocolate.”

Home. The woman he loved referring to his house as “home” warmed some of the cold spots. “It’s a plan.”

“Where to?”

“Around back.”

Which was the absolute last place he really wanted to be. As they rounded the corner of the old house, the pressure in his chest increased to the point of sharp, twisting pain, and his heartbeat slammed against his rib cage.

“Where was your mother’s garden?”

Howard gestured toward an area about thirty yards straight out from where the back door hung open and loose on its hinges. “Over there, I believe.” His voice sounded strange and thick to his own ears.

Nothing there now except more of the same. Just a dense tangle of weeds and brush, his mother’s once neat, lovingly tended haven overtaken by decades and the elements. In no way did the area resemble anything familiar, but he was drawn toward it, anyway. The moth to the proverbial flame, his legs propelling him forward of their own accord.

He stopped at the center of where he recalled the garden being located, rubbing his aching chest. Dimly, he was aware of Kat behind him, waiting, allowing him a few moments to himself.

Right here, life ended as I knew it.

For the better? Yes, in most respects. And yet . . .

The yawning emptiness left in the wake of his mother’s departure, of a long-ago night of confusion and horror, ate at his soul. “Why?”

“Why what, sweetie?”

Absently, he shook his head. The answers were here. Answers too hideous to contemplate. He ought to run, like he did so many years ago. Run as though the devil himself was in hot pursuit. Get away.

Get away.

Voices. Angry. Shouting. Disturbing the peace of his magical forest.

A sickening, soggy thump. A bad curse word.

He went to see, although he knew he shouldn’t. Hid behind the tomato plants, peered around the stalks, ripe with lots of tomatoes. And he saw . . . he saw
. . .

“Noooo.”

Howard sank to his knees, holding his head in both hands, heedless of the sling on his right arm. His skull was splitting in two, the agony unbearable. The memory wanted out, clawed his brain like a crazed demon in a cage. Maddened and screaming.

He ran, crashing through the trees.
Ran away from— what?

What had he seen?

But he’d shut it out, his world reduced to fleeing for his life. His mind blank as a sheet of paper, no other motive but survival pumping his legs.

I’m gonna catch you, worthless little bastard!

No, no! Mommy!

His father, tackling him. Hitting, kicking. Pummeling his small, starving frame until he couldn’t move.

Gonna die.

“Howard! Oh, God, honey!”

Hands, shaking him. Grabbing his face.

“Howard, breathe! Come on, baby, where are you?”

He wasn’t breathing? He gulped a deep breath, struggling from the abyss.

“Kat?”

“Thank God! I’m right here.” On her knees, she threw her arms around him, pulled him in. Held him close, tight as a vise. Rocking and kissing him in turn, the salt of her tears on his lips. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . .”

They might’ve stayed locked together ten minutes or an hour. He didn’t know. Only knew that the lush curves pressed against him, the heat of her sweet body, her gentle crooning, brought him out of the nightmare. Quieted the demon in the cage.

Inside, anyway. Outside, he couldn’t stop shaking. The devastating aftereffects of terror-induced adrenaline. An electrical storm moving farther and farther into the distance, until his world stilled once more.

And there was only Kat.

Loving him.

“Did you remember all of it?” Leaning back some, she searched his eyes.

“No,” he croaked. “I can’t do this, Kat. Take me home, please.”

“You’ve got it, big guy.”

He let her take his arm, help steady him as he pushed to his feet. They walked back to his truck without a word or a backward glance.

As Kat put the old place behind them, he knew whether he spent the rest of his life in Tennessee or not, he’d never return. If the past wanted to stay buried, fine by him.

His future was sitting at his side, in the form of an angel.

From the dining table, Kat surreptitiously watched Howard over a stack of her students’ handwriting samples. He was dressed in his favorite lounging attire of dark blue sweats and a white T-shirt, cranked back in his favorite recliner, flipping channels on the television. Normal, peaceful.

Except for the wistful melancholy in his beautiful brown eyes, the pain he covered with a sexy smile when his gaze landed on her. Emotional pain more than physical, though he still groaned when getting up to move around.

His bruises, shoulder, and cracked rib were healing, and he didn’t appear to be in nearly as much discomfort as he had been three days ago when they’d driven to Clarksville. In spite of her fussing, he’d ditched the sling early and thumbed his nose at the pain medication. No, the worst of his bruises were inside.

She didn’t know how to heal them. Her one attempt at armchair psychology had backfired, big time. She’d had no business encouraging him to try and lift his mental block without the benefit of professional help. And that step, he absolutely refused to discuss.

Straightening the papers, she placed them in a neat stack on the table and laid her purple checking pen on top of them. “Sweetie?”

“Hmm?” His thumb was getting quite a workout, the dizzying montage of channels making her a little nuts.

“What do you want to do for dinner? I can make spaghetti, or there are pork chops in the freezer.”

He laid the remote on the end table next to him and stretched, turning his head to look at her. “Nope, I won’t have my girl slaving in the kitchen when she has to work all day,” he said, pushing out of his chair with a moan.

“I miss your cooking, but I don’t think you’re up to standing over a stove yet, buddy.” Howard didn’t just cook; he created culinary art. Not easy stuff like soup and spaghetti.

“Tell you what. I’ll make a run to Beer Bellies and pick us up some burgers, and you can finish checking your papers.”

She frowned. “Sounds great, but maybe I should ride along. You haven’t driven since you were injured. ”

“And I’m about to go stir-crazy, angel.” He walked over to the table and bent, stroking her cheek, giving her a slow kiss. “I just need to stretch my legs for a bit. Maybe by the time I get back, you’ll be done and we can eat dessert. Before dinner.”

“You are such a sex fiend!” She tried to scowl into his smug face, but failed.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Her anticipation matched his. “Hurry back.”

“Twenty, thirty minutes tops. I’ll set the alarm on my way out.” He gave her a stern frown. “Don’t open the door for anybody—I don’t care who it is.”

“I’m not ten, Howard.” The man still wanted total control, and it didn’t look like that would ever change. Her lips twitched, a grin threatening, but seeing the worry in his eyes, she stifled it. “I’ll be fine. We can’t live our lives joined at the hip or be afraid to venture from the house apart.”

“I know, but . . . you’re right. Maybe you should come along.”

“Go,” she urged with a shooing motion. “I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. If I need you, I’ll call your cell.”

He hesitated, less certain than before, but finally relaxed. “Okay. Call if you so much as hear a flea fart.”

This time, she did grin. “You have such a way with tender words. Must be why I love you.”

Howard cocked his head, an arrested expression on his handsome face. “Kat . . .”

“Yeah?” She held her breath.

He shook himself, grabbing his wallet and keys off the counter. “Be back soon.”

As he headed out through the door leading to the garage, pausing to set the alarm, she blew out the breath she’d been holding. The moment may have been lost for now, but the L word was hovering on those gorgeous lips. She knew it—and she got the distinct impression he did, too. A definite step forward.

How would he tell her? With flowers at dinner? After they’d made sweet love? Or during? She shivered, imagining how lovely it would be. Fantasizing about making things official with Howard was much more entertaining than checking papers. Before she knew it, the phone was ringing. She’d been sitting in her chair, daydreaming for twenty minutes, work untouched.

Plucking the phone out of its cradle on the counter, she spied Howard’s cell phone number on the display and answered. “Hey, handsome. What’s up?”

“Well, I’ve got the food, but I’m going to be a few minutes later than I thought,” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Why?”

“Detective Ford called, and he wants me to swing by and take another look at the ring. On top of that, the police discovered something else in the wreckage from the explosion.”

“What’d they find?”

“He didn’t want to get into it on the phone. Said just to come take a look. Sorry, babe. I’ll be there before the burgers get cold, I promise.”

“No problem,” she replied, striving to hide her worry. The last thing Howard needed after Sunday’s trip to nightmare hell was more stress. “I’ll be waiting. Naked.”

He groaned, a hint of amusement in his tone. “That’s
so
not fair.”

“Bye, Howie.”

She hung up, smiling. Hopefully, she’d given him something to see him through his meeting with Ford.

With any luck, that something would lure home one very hungry man.

And not for hamburgers.

Bye, Howie.

Kat hung up with a decisive
blip,
not giving him a chance to fire back a retort.

Chuckling, he flipped his phone shut and slipped it into the front right pocket of his sweats. His shoulder gave a stab of protest at the movement, but he’d hated being restricted by the sling and had taken grim pleasure in tossing the contraption onto the dresser, in spite of Kat’s scolding.

On a side street off the main square, he parked in front of the modest one-story building housing the Sugarland PD. He stepped from the truck with a grimace, questioning whether he ought to have quit the painkillers. On the other hand, he preferred being clearheaded and able to drive. Gave him back a measure of control.

Inside, an attractive, uniformed woman at the front desk pointed him toward Ford’s office, eyeing him with undisguised interest. He thanked her politely and made himself scarce, startled to realize he wasn’t even the least bit tempted. One year ago, the old Howard might’ve investigated the vibes she was throwing his way. But the poor lady couldn’t hope to measure up to his Kat.

Yep, he’d been tamed, and good.

At Ford’s partially open door, he knocked and was greeted by, “Come on in and shut the door.”

The detective stood behind his desk, flashing Howard a brief smile and shaking his hand before resuming his seat and getting down to business.

“I’m glad to see you up and around, Lieutenant,” he said warmly. “A hell of an improvement over last time we talked.”

“Thanks.” With a grunt, Howard lowered himself into a sturdy chair facing the desk. “I won’t run any marathons for a while, but yeah. At least I’m vertical. What do you have for me?”

Ford lifted one of two small brown envelopes on his desk and shook the contents into his palm. “I’d like you to look at this ring again. Study it closely, see if anything about it seems familiar. Go ahead, you can’t mess up evidence. We couldn’t get a print, and the dried blood has already been tested, what there was of it.”

Reluctant, Howard took the tiny object from Ford’s outstretched hand, grasping the bottom edge of the gold loop between his thumb and forefinger. “Any DNA results?”

Ford barked a short laugh. “Are you kidding? The lab we use is so backed up, I’ll be lucky if I don’t have to sleep with the tech to get them before I’m ready for social security. We do know it’s type A, which doesn’t help much outside of proving the blood wasn’t Pearce’s or Miller’s.”

Half listening, Howard frowned at the simple solitaire diamond. The swirling etched pattern engraved in the gold on either side of the setting he’d been too upset to note before. Old-fashioned, he mused, though this was more of a perception. What he knew about jewelry could fit on the head of a pin.

Ford crossed his arms over his chest. “Impressions? ”

“The ring isn’t new. And it’s not what I’d imagine someone buying for his lady if he had money for something nicer.” As those words left his mouth, a strange prickle stood the hairs up on the back of his neck. An uneasy shadow crept in, unseen hands wrapping around his throat.

Was it cold in here?