Wait Until Dark (23 page)

She finally forced words out of her dry mouth. "Hello, Dr. Court. You surprised me."

"Sorry, Addie." With a twist of his shoulder he pushed away from the bookshelf and came toward her. She held her breath, trying not to notice the way his soft faded jeans clung to wiry lean hips and long legs. He walked lazily, as if he had not a care in the world. Coffee followed close behind, tale waving arrogantly in the air as if this, at last, was another male he could relate to. "I thought you'd be expecting me."

What arrogance,
she thought.

"Oh, that's right. You said you were in Blue Springs to do some research. Anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, I think so. Your friend, Buck Harvey, said you were the curator of the Appalachian tales and legends collection. I understand you're responsible for its fine reputation."

He placed his hands on her desk, and leaning toward her, supported himself on stiffened arms while he spoke. The sleeves of his sloppy navy blue cable knit sweater crumpled down over strong wrists and hands. Crisp dark hairs were scattered over the backs of his hands. A one day growth of dark beard stubbled his jaw, and Addie found it incredibly sexy. The gold earring glinted momentarily when he moved his head.

What did he say?
Oh, yes, her compilation of mountain stories. A fierce sense of ownership flared within her, which surprised her, and she found herself on the defensive. Other people had come to use the collection and she hadn't reacted so vehemently. It was as if he had come to take a child away from her. What was there about Will Court that generated such strong feelings in her?

"Why do you want to see that group of work in particular?" she asked, unable to keep the frost from her voice.

He lifted his eyebrows at the tone of her voice. He removed his hands from her desk, and stood erect.

"Perhaps I should explain. I teach American Literature at Yale, and my field of expertise is Appalachian folklore. I've written several books on the subject"

"How did you find Blue Springs, Dr. Court? Our collection
is
considered one of the best, but it is not well known."

An indolent smile made its way leisurely across his angular face, and he stuck his hands into the rear pockets of his jeans. "I like to wander, Addie, and I especially like to wander when I'm searching for material. I don't make arrangements. I discover more when I simply arrive somewhere. I spent a few weeks in Marysville last summer, and heard about the Blue Springs collection. So when it was time for my sabbatical, I came back this way."

To Addie's dismay, she suddenly recalled that a Dr. William J. Court had written several impressive textbooks on Appalachian literature, its forms, origins, and history. She'd read one of his books three years ago when she'd first started her own selections. How could she have forgotten?

This man had thrown her off-balance from the instant he'd opened the kitchen door last night. She'd been unable to think of anything except his eyes, the shock of black hair that fell across his brow, and her desire to sleep with the masculine aroma of him, to curl herself around it and hold it safe and soft around her all night long.

She cleared her throat self-consciously. "I apologize, Dr. Court. I'm rather protective of the material, only because most people don't appreciate its importance. I now remember reading one of your books several years ago. I'll try to help in any way I can."

"Actually, I'm thirsty. I was looking for water."

"Sure" said Addie. She got up from behind the desk. "Go back to your work while I fetch a bottle of water from the kitchenette."

Addie got the water and made her way back to the corner where Dr. Will Court worked, with Coffee perfectly at home at his feet. The long maple table was piled with papers and books, and he seemed already engrossed in his work. A yellow pencil was clenched between his teeth while he wrote rapidly on a blue legal-size pad of paper with a ballpoint pen. The pad was a replica of the one she'd found on her desk this morning.

Could Dr. Court have been in the library last night? Impossible. He'd arrived at Rivers Farm Bed and Breakfast while she was still at the library.

She cleared her throat. He glanced up at her, and she could tell that for an instant he didn't recognize her, and probably didn't even know he sat in the Blue Springs Library. Addie guessed that he was in the back hollows of the mountains somewhere, maybe chasing revenuers, or telling tall tales around a fire, killing a "bar," or kissing an innocent mountain lass.

"Your water," she said, and placed a paper napkin and the bottle on the table next to him.

"Thank you," he said. His eyes lightened as he focused on her and took a long swig of water. "Addie, this Bloody Mud Hollow story has a reference to a Simon Meredith, but I can't find any further mention of him. Do you have anything else on the Meredith clan?"

"Yes, I do, but it's not included here because the Meredith history is in the genealogy section. We also have microfilm you can study, but I always start with books. Come, I'll show you."

He unfolded his long lean body from behind the table and, in an ambling, lazy gait, followed her through several rows of stacks. Addie stopped in the center of a dim narrow aisle and ran her hand over volumes containing West Virginia's families' lineage.

"Here we are. The Merediths are down here, I think."

She knelt to examine books and files on the bottom shelf. He knelt behind her, and stretched an arm across her shoulder to hold onto the shelf for balance and support. His shoulder touched hers, and if he extended his other arm he would have her enclosed, she thought nervously. Their fingers brushed as he too ran a hand over the contents. A peculiar lightness at her center almost drove her butt to the floor, and she heard her swift involuntary intake of breath.

"Something wrong, Addie?"

"No," she said slowly, the word kind of falling out of her mouth like soft air.

Luscious warmth spread low in her stomach and spiraled down where it shouldn't. The lightness and warmth swelled until her inner thighs trembled. She grabbed the edge of the shelf and held on for dear life.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've turned two shades of white and back again."

He was so close behind her that his breath stirred her hair.

"Really, I'm just fine," she protested as she turned to look at him, and found his face inches from hers. He smiled that lazy, disturbing, but inviting smile again. Her eyelids fluttered and she felt light-headed.

His smile faded. With gentle fingers he explored the contours of her face. "You're beautiful, Addie Rivers."

Speechless and unable to move, Addie studied his rugged face.

He rubbed his thumb lightly across her bottom lip, and whispered, "Holy, fair, and wise is she; The heaven such grace did lend her."

The Two Gentlemen of Verona,
recalled Addie hazily.
Act Four, Scene Two.

Weak with desire, curiosity, and a heady sense of adventure, Addie didn't move as he closed the short distance between. His lips were rough and firm, and the coarseness of his stubbled chin sanded her chin. She collapsed to sit on the floor and Will went with her, never taking his lips from hers.

"Dr. Court," she said shakily, and meant to utter a ladylike protest, but found herself unable to say anything further.

"Maybe you better call me Will, Addie," he whispered against her cheek.

He drew back to give her a penetrating look, and she knew immediate loss at the lack of his warmth against her cheek. She ached to kiss him, deep, and long, and hard.

This is totally absurd, Adelaide Rivers. You're sitting on the floor of the library engaged in dangerous flirtation with a man you just met
-
but, dear God, it feels so very right.

Heart beating at breakneck speed, Addie leaned forward and kissed him. Will caught her to him, pulling her into his lap as the kiss deepened. His tongue prodded her lips and she drew it into her mouth, loving its demanding heat.

"Addie. Addie, where are you?" Was someone calling her?

The telephone rang on her desk up front, and someone called "Addie" again. Addie tried to fight her way to the surface of the drugged state she found herself immersed in, but was defeated by her strong craving for this man and his melting touch. She swam along through the hot, hazy, exciting currents Will created, lost in a world she'd only dreamed about.

"Addie. Where the hell are you?" It was Joe calling, and Joe never cussed. The phone rang over and over, the intrusive noise reverberating through every nook and cranny of the large house. She hadn't switched on the answering machine. She didn't care.

Will withdrew from her mouth, kissed her on the temple, and said softly, "I think someone needs you." "Yes, I, ah, better see what Joe wants." Will got to his feet and helped her up. Addie's head whirled and she leaned shakily against the shelves. She poked at her hair, blushing furiously all the while, and searched in vain through the pockets of her slacks for a tissue.

Will, smiling, extracted a white handkerchief from a jeans pocket and tenderly erased from her face any traces of their kiss. "Okay?" "I don't know" she said. Embarrassed, she tried to smile, but knew the result was lopsided.

"Addie?" Joe's voice was closer and she realized he was searching for her. The phone had stopped ringing.

"It's all right, you know. As far as I'm concerned, you haven't done anything wrong, so don't be embarrassed." Will's smile turned into a grin, a big delighted grin that creased his face from ear to ear. "In fact, I just had the best time I've ever had in a library, and I
love
libraries."

"I hear you, Joe. I'm coming," she called.

Will gave her a small wave and made his way quietly back to the Appalachia section. Addie took a deep breath, walked quickly to the front, and emerged from the aisle.

Joe paced the area near her desk worriedly.

"Joe, what on earth is so important? I was deep into some files in the back, I had to put them away before I did anything else."

He placed his hands on her shoulders, and she saw fear on his earnest face. "Thank God, Addie. I got worried when you didn't answer."

"Something the matter, Joe?"

He brought her to him briefly, gave her a quick self-conscious hug, and released her. "You'd better sit down. I have some bad news."

"Just spill it, Joe."

"Another member of your book group was found murdered last night. Jennifer Hatfield."

"No way." She sat on the desk, and grabbed its angular edge for added assurance.

"Sorry, Addie, but it's true. She left Marysville Merchant Bank about five-thirty yesterday. The teller who works next to her said Jennifer hinted that she was meeting someone for dinner and a romantic evening, but she wouldn't name her date."

"Oh, no, Joe. It can't be." The phone started ringing again, but Addie could only stare at him in horror.

"Better answer that, Ad. I'll bet it's your mom. The news has been all over television."

Shakily, Addie picked up the receiver.

"Addie, Addie, have you heard about Jennifer Hatfield? Why didn't you answer the phone when I called before? Are you okay?" Eileen Rivers's worry came through loud and dear. "Addie? Answer me."

"I hear you, Mom." In trying to keep her voice calm for her mother's sake, Addie found herself regaining composure. "Joe is here with me, and I'm great."

"Addie, this proves that what I've been saying all along is true. Someone is after the women in your reading circle."

"I'll have to admit you might be right this time, Mom, but I'm fine. Really, I am."

"You be sure Buck brings you home tonight."

"Okay." She said good-bye and punched the disconnect button.

Joe handed her a glass of water and she sat in her desk chair.

"Where did they find her?" she asked Joe.

"Out by the lake."

"Near where they found Laurel?" she asked with dread.

"Yes. They called me right after I saw you this mornin'. I've been out there. It wasn't pretty, Addie. You know I've done all I can to find the truth about Laurel's drowning. Up until now I was pretty sure that Laurel had too much to drink that night, as she did sometimes, and that it was an accident. Janelle's disappearance, of course, isn't in my jurisdiction."

"What happens now?"

"Now, there are no more coincidences. I used to think your mother was being paranoid, but she's been right all along. We're looking for a serial killer." He grimaced, and took her hand in his. "Addie, you're going to have to be mighty careful. Me or Buck will take you home at night, and bring you to work in the morning. I'll devise some sort of alarm system for you here in the library. Donny Jim thinks the sun sets and shines because of you, and he's here twice a week, so that's good. Promise you will alert me to strangers who seem overly friendly."

Crawling fear mixed with guilt when she thought about Will Court working in the nether regions of the library at this very minute.
That's silly, Addie. A distinguished professor from Yale couldn't be a murderer, and if he were, why would he want to kill the women in her book group? Besides, he's not a stranger, he's our guest.