Unforgivable (12 page)

He glanced at the house one more time before climbing into the truck. Just in case Katie was watching. Seems like his life had gotten screwed up since tangling with her and her stupid cat. His father may have taken his side to the town, but he’d beaten the piss out of him privately. Sam only hit him where it wouldn’t show. He’d learned that with Gary’s mother. And who would believe such an upstanding citizen like Sam Savino was a brute? Who would dare go up against him? Well, Katie had tried.

Sam had called Gary trash and trouble and every foul word in the English language. Even a few in Italian. He’d shipped him off to a military school in Atlanta, and that’s where he’d stayed upon graduating. After one semester at college, he’d walked out and never looked back. He was tired of being the one who listened and obeyed. He wanted to be the one someone else obeyed. Becoming a cop had been the answer. Women dug the uniform, and people respected and listened to him. Everyone except his father, who spit on him when he’d learned that instead of becoming an attorney he’d become a cop.

Everything had gone well in Atlanta until a few sissy suspects had complained that Gary had hit them. His girlfriend filed assault charges against him, even though she’d hit him first. A woman accused him of using intimidation inappropriately. His superiors had been intimidated by Gary’s ambition and determination. They made him take an anger management course and when he hadn’t cooperated with the instructor, he’d been asked to resign nice and quiet-like. That stupid course had changed everything, though, when he’d discovered the real reason for his anger. So he’d returned to Flatlands to confront his father. 

Katie was part of the reason he’d come back. Her accusing eyes had haunted him over the years. He’d thought about her a lot, about what he’d done to her cat. About why he’d done it. Anger. Rage. Resentment that no one could understand. He had a confession to make, but only to Katie and only when the time was right. One of these days he’d get her alone.

He pulled down the leaf-covered drive that disappeared into the murky forest. He’d always hated this place, but he’d hated Silas more. Spooky Silas the kids had called him. Gary couldn’t even remember why. Maybe because he hadn’t been intimidated by Gary back in school. He was the one kid who’d just stare at him, ignore his threats with a blank, cold look on his face. Then he’d stood by Katie when she’d accused him of throwing her kitten. The jerk hadn’t even been there.

He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. A fine line ran from the corner of his right eye to his hairline. Katie had done that when she’d attacked him. Because he’d picked at it, it had scarred. She’d put her mark on him. He was willing to forgive her for that if she forgave him.

The house loomed out of the woods, as creepy as he remembered it. He’d come out here a few months back, just to see if the old building was still around. As a deputy, he needed to know where everything was. The creepy part was that it wasn’t as derelict as he’d expected. Like someone used it occasionally, kept it up.

This time, though, a car twice as nice as his own was parked in front of the house. Lights were on, and the first floor had windows. Silas was standing in the doorway looking the same insolent way he always did, like a wild animal protecting his territory. A big brown dog stood on the porch in front of him. 

Gary waited in his truck for a minute or two, just to make Silas wonder. Then he took his time getting out, making sure his gun and baton were within sight. No way was this punk going to forget who had the power here.

Silas was already walking toward him, still not looking the least concerned. His hair was months overdue for a cut. Damned non-conformist. “What’s the problem…officer?”

Now he knew where he’d seen Silas before—in the diner. Now that he thought about it, the guy hadn’t changed much since high school. Still tall and rangy, still taller than Gary, though less bulked up. Gary could take him, if it came to that.

“What are you doing on this property? It’s private.”

“I thought it was private until now.” 

Gary straightened his shoulders and rested the palm of his hand on the baton. “I’m gonna ask you again, what are you doing here?”

Silas didn’t look intimidated, but he did answer. “I’m staying here for a few days.”

“You’re going to have to vacate the premises. You’re trespassing.”

“Why don’t you contact the owner and see if he minds?”

“You some kind of smart-ass? It’s a company in Atlanta, and unless you have their permission, you’re trespassing. Period. I’ll give you an hour to pack up and get the hell out of here.”

Silas turned away right in the middle of his threat. He sauntered to the steps. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Rage burned red in Gary’s head. He was about to find out if he could take Silas. “Then I’m arresting you for trespassing.” He pulled out his baton and his cuffs. It was going to be sweet joy to cuff the son-of-a-bitch and shove him in his vehicle. And if he resisted, even sweeter.

Silas turned around with an annoyed look on his face. “You can’t throw me off my own land.”

“You don’t own this land. You never did.”

Silas sounded impatient as he said, “My dad bought it when we moved here with some insurance money. And I kept paying the taxes on it. When I formed my company, Celine Inc., I made it a company asset. So get off my land.”

Anger and humiliation raged in Gary. “Celine is your company? You’re the one who hasn’t been returning the town council’s calls about buying the land?”

“You catch on fast.”

Not a smack of shame in his face. It didn’t matter to Gary one way or the other if the town bought the property. What did matter was this jerk ignoring authority, both the town council’s and his. “What are you doing back in town after all this time?”

“I believe that falls into the none-of-your-damned-business category.”

He felt his shoulders stiffen. “I’ve had reports of suspicious activity around your house.” He glanced up at the structure. Silas had been doing some work on it. “If you tell me why you’re here, that’ll probably clear things up.”

“I don’t owe you or anyone an explanation of why I’m on my own property.”

Blood pulsed in Gary’s temple. Silas couldn’t win. He pulled out his gun. “I’m going to have to see for myself.”

Silas stood in his way and didn’t flinch at all when the gun’s barrel pressed against his ribs. “Not without a warrant.”

Gary lifted the gun. “Meet my warrant.” He shoved Silas out of the way and stalked up the steps. The big dog just stood there too, like his master. Except the dog was old, too old to do anything.

“This is an illegal search, and you know it. You’re out of bounds, Savino.”

“Yeah, well, I never did much care for boundaries.” He started with the folders on the porch. “What the hell?” Where had he gotten these pictures? He took those into the house. Silas watched him, but did nothing further to try to stop him. Good thing. Attacking an officer wasn’t looked upon lightly.

The gun made him swallow thickly. It was hidden in a box of papers. He hadn’t thought about Silas having firepower. It was a good thing he’d done the search. 

He radioed Sheriff Tate and requested immediate backup.

Silas leaned against the column and tried to tamp down his anger at the violation of his privacy. There wasn’t a thing he could do about it. If he touched Gary, he’d be hauled in for assault on an officer. He knew Gary was close to the edge, which was Silas’s fault for not cowing under Gary’s power. He could feel anger pulsing off the man. 

The sheriff pulled up fifteen minutes later. Gary kept his eye on Silas as he showed Tate what he’d found. Now it was Gary’s excitement Silas felt, the savage glory of a beast tearing strips of flesh off its prey.

Tate kept glancing over at Silas, appalled by what he saw. Hell, it appalled Silas, too. It was the yellow folder that bothered him the most; not the contents, but that Gary had found it. Read some of it. Yet, Gary hadn’t shown that folder to the sheriff.

After a few minutes, the sheriff gathered everything and walked over to Silas. “This is yours?”

“My
private
property.”

Gary stepped up beside the sheriff. “I had probable cause to check the premises, sir. The man was acting suspicious.”

“By doing what?” Tate asked in a low voice.

“He had a look in his eyes, sir. He was defiant, obviously hiding something. So I searched.”

“But you didn’t get a warrant,” Tate said. 

“But he would have destroyed the evidence,” Gary said.

“I don’t suppose any of this was in plain sight,” he asked Gary in a near whisper.

“As soon as I walked up on the porch I could see those folders—”

Tate shoved the folders at Silas. “I’d sure like an explanation of why you’ve got this stuff, son.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

Silence hovered like a snake, ready to strike. The men waited, Silas waited. 

Tate said, “We’re going to have to verify that you own the property…”

Silas dug through another box and gave him a tax receipt he’d brought just in case. It showed Celine Inc. as the owner of the property. Then he produced a worn business card that identified him as the CEO of Celine. Since he was the only employee, there was no one they could call to verify. “Need anything else?”

“Got a license for the gun?”

Silas produced that as well.

Tate looked sheepish as he pushed the permit back at Silas. “Sorry we barged in.”

“You can’t let him get away with this!” Gary protested as Tate took him by the arm and yanked him toward the vehicles. 

In a low tone, Tate said, “You don’t barge into someone’s house and go through their stuff without a warrant. Period. If you thought there was something in there, you should have called me first. And what made you think there was something going on?”

Gary pulled his arm out of Tate’s grasp. “He looked guilty. And he is!”

Tate glanced back at Silas, who was openly listening to them. Then he turned back to Gary. “We’ll talk about this at the station.”

Gary shot Silas a venomous look before getting into his vehicle. He slammed the door and tore out, spinning leaves and gravel.

This was going to complicate things. Now people would know he was back. And the sheriff would be keeping an eye on him because of what they’d found. 

By the time this was over, they were probably all going to know why he was called Spooky Silas.

The feelings started again right after dinner. This time Silas felt rage and frustration. He’d spent the evening putting his research back in order. Luckily they hadn’t found everything. He’d been unable to resist trying to see it through their eyes. Their feelings of shock were clear enough. Their disgust. Definitely their suspicion. 

The pictures were gruesome, yes. The kind a big-city cop would have seen too many times, but not a small-town sheriff. Gary, perhaps, in his years on the Atlanta force. Silas had put in a call to his contact in Atlanta to find out more about his stint up there.

It was nearly midnight when he’d become aware of the feelings. Not the feelings of the joy of the hunt this time, but pure rage. Silas wasn’t sure which worried him more. He tucked his research into a back corner of what constituted his office and bedroom. He set his suitcase on top of that and walked to the front porch.

Wind howled through the trees and brought the forest alive with the sound of rushing leaves. Another time it may have soothed him. Tonight it was a backdrop to sinister rage. He glanced toward Katie’s house, not that he could see anything. She was probably tucked in her bed with her husband for the night, safe and sound.

That’s not where she belonged. She knew it too, but she was powerless to do anything about it. So was he. Coveting another man’s wife was one of the big Ten.

So was murder, a black thought reminded him.

He focused on kissing Katie rather than his darkest doubts as he headed back to his place. He hadn’t meant to. He was only here to protect her, a totally unselfish purpose. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t compromise her or put her in a tenuous position. Just his presence, unfortunately, had done that. He could feel her conflict and desire. Though he hadn’t seen her, or at least talked to her, in eighteen years, he’d always believed she belonged to him. 

He scanned the writhing miasma of shadows and leaves. Someone was out there watching him. He could feel the anger closer than ever. 

Even The Boss seemed to sense it. He lifted his head and looked to the darkness, his saggy lips dusty from the floor. Silas reached out and scratched his head before heading to the inflatable mattress in the bedroom.

Fully clothed, he lay in bed and listened to the sounds of the darkness. He’d been in the dark for so long, he wasn’t sure where it ended and he began. It was that fine line that obsessed him. What pushed a man over it? What made him kill another human being?

The rage had receded, leaving behind emptiness. The evil was there, hovering at the edge. The Ghost was on the move. Not hunting, but definitely looking for an outlet for his anger.

Silas got out of bed and called The Boss. He waited while the old dog creakily made his way down the steps. On his way to the Navigator, the dog sniffed something crinkly on the ground.

It was the chocolate lollipop Katie had brought over. She must have dropped it, and either Gary or the sheriff had run over it. Silas picked it up and tossed it to the edge of the woods. He didn’t want any reminders of her offering.

He helped The Boss into the vehicle and climbed in. If the killer were on the prowl, Silas had a feeling where he’d go: where the green sneaker still lay on the side of the road. He’d been keeping an eye on it, not yet ready to anonymously call it into the police. There’d be no evidence on it.

The Ghost left the shoe there so he could vicariously relive his crime. Serial killers usually kept their trophies nearby. The Ghost was smarter than that. He left his trophies on the side of the road, as innocuous as the rest of the debris scattered among the grass and wildflowers. He probably returned here from time to time, and if no one was around, masturbated to the memories.