Watch Me (22 page)

Sheridan felt as if he’d just slapped her. She was guilty as charged, but she’d never had Cain’s stepfamily throw it in her face.

“I think you should leave,” Skye said quietly, but he made no move to go.

“Women and my stepbrother,” he said with a disgusted shake of his head. “I wish you could see how silly you look, lusting after him, jumping into his bed every time he snaps his fingers.”

Sheridan jutted out her chin. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy on your part? Is it eating you up inside that your older brother is everything a woman wants, everything
you’ll
never be?”

“I’m everything I need to be,” he retorted. “You’re the one who’s always pretended to be something you’re not, the very picture of innocence during the day, panting for Cain at night. It’s no wonder someone hates you badly enough to—”

“Was that someone you?”
she shouted.

He lowered his voice. “If I’d attacked you, you wouldn’t be around to tell.”

“Go home.” Skye shoved him in the chest. “Now. Do you hear me? Before I shoot you, after all.”

Chuckling that he’d managed to elicit such a strong response, Robert dropped his hand and walked toward Owen’s truck, which he’d parked haphazardly at the curb, the engine still running.

He turned back after taking only a few steps. “Oh, I should leave this with you while I’m here,” he said and reached into his back pocket to toss a folded flyer on the ground by their feet.

Sheridan was so furious she didn’t bother retrieving it until he’d gone. Then she opened it and smoothed it out: It was Amy’s funeral announcement.

T
here was another note under her doormat, the second in the past five days.

Returning home from school, her arms laden with papers, grade books and progress reports, Karen Stevens could see the white corner sticking out and felt her steps automatically slow. She didn’t want to pick it up. She knew what it would say. But she had to get rid of it before John arrived. He was stopping by at 4:30. He wanted to make up after their argument in the restaurant, but that wouldn’t happen if he learned what she’d done with Cain. It didn’t matter that the incident had occurred twelve years ago. John had so many issues with his stepson, he’d never forgive her. It was Cain they’d argued about at the restaurant the other night. She’d encouraged him to acknowledge his stepson, saying it was ridiculous for them to live in the same town without speaking to each other. He’d flatly refused, saying he wanted no contact with “that murdering son of a bitch.” Which had motivated her to try convincing him that Cain couldn’t possibly have killed Jason. Which made him angry that she was taking Cain’s “side.” Which caused her to say that Cain was
twice the man Robert was—words she’d been biting back for months. Which led him to insist he couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t understand his responsibilities as a father. Which provoked her into telling him to go to hell. Then she walked out.

It was basically the same argument they’d had before. And yet it was different. Somehow the stakes had been raised. And that was what scared her.

After checking to make sure none of her neighbors were watching, she shifted her load so she could bend down. Then she grabbed the note, hurried inside and locked the door behind her. Someone was bent on terrorizing her. Why? And how had whoever it was found out? She was almost positive Cain hadn’t told anyone. Maybe he didn’t care what John thought—although she suspected that, on some level, he did—but he definitely cared about Marshall’s opinion. He wouldn’t want his grandfather to know what they’d done. Neither would he want to give those he associated with every day, and the police, another reason to think the worst of him.

Closing her eyes, she pressed a hand to her pounding heart and tried to stop shaking. When she’d returned to Whiterock she’d believed the past would remain in the past, that it could be forgotten. Cain had never tried to contact her. There wasn’t even a hint that anyone knew about her terrible mistake. Until recently, she’d thought she was safe.

Tempted to call Cain, she glanced at the phone. But she didn’t move toward it. She’d tried to make herself get in touch with him before and always chickened out. She owed him an apology for what she’d done. He’d
been a seventeen-year-old boy, desperate for love and attention and she’d—

Too embarrassed to think about it, she cringed, imagining her behavior exposed to the entire town. She’d been nominated for Teacher of the Year last term, for crying out loud. If the truth came out, she’d look like the biggest hypocrite on earth.

She could already see the headlines: Teacher of the Year Hides Dark Secret. She’d be publicly humiliated, fired from the school district, possibly imprisoned, maybe even forced to register as a sex offender. And if Cain hadn’t been too hurt before, he’d be hurt now. It would jeopardize his relationship with Marshall, a man he loved more than any other, by giving Marshall reason to finally side with John.

After setting her books and papers on the counter, Karen sank into her most comfortable chair. Lizzie and Pepe Le Pew, her cats, welcomed her home, brushing up against her legs, but Karen was too numb, too dazed to pet them. What was she going to do? She had a terrible feeling the notes wouldn’t stop, that eventually the sender, whoever it was, would reveal her shame.

She had to put an end to this—but how? Whoever was leaving these messages gave no clue to his or her identity. Karen had no way of determining the author, so she couldn’t even contact him or her to plead her case.

Slowly, she unfolded the paper to see what had been written this time. True to form, the note was produced on a computer and was unsigned. The first two had been very brief:
I know how Cain became teacher’s pet…
and
Do you miss Cain, Ms. Stevens?
Do you dream about him coming over after school to cut your grass?

This one was a little longer but even more painful to read:
Do you still fantasize about Cain? Or is he too old these days? Maybe what you really want are the boys in your class. You’d better be careful or I’ll expose you. Just watch me
.

That someone would think she’d victimize her students made her physically ill. She wasn’t like that and didn’t understand how she’d ever made such a terrible mistake. But at least it had only happened once. She wanted to believe it wouldn’t have happened at all had she really been interested in John. Fifteen years her senior, he’d seemed too old for her, too staid. He’d been through two marriages and had a family of nearly grown children, while she’d never even been engaged. When she became so hopelessly infatuated with Cain, she’d been reliving her own high school years, but she knew he’d never returned her interest.

That was the most pathetic part. Maybe she could attempt to justify her actions if they’d fallen in love, if Cain had pursued the relationship. But, after that one time in her bed, he was the one who’d told her no. Repeatedly. And that had only made her want him more.

The difficulty of trying to reconcile how she could be both a caring teacher who loved her vocation and a predator who’d lured one of her students into a sexual relationship was the reason she’d left Whiterock. She’d only returned after John had found her on MySpace and started e-mailing her again. He hadn’t gotten together with anyone else in the years she’d been gone,
said he missed her and wanted to try again, and she’d begun to realize how much she missed
him
.

Now she was back, hoping to get it right. Instead, the mistake she’d tried to forget was back, too.

She folded the note into a small triangle. She needed to get up the nerve to ask her neighbors if they’d seen someone approach her house today. In the past, she’d been too frightened to question them, in case they kept an eye out in future and picked up what was left behind. But maybe that was a risk she’d have to take.

The doorbell rang, and Karen’s heart jumped into her throat. It was 4:00 p.m. John was early.

Getting to her feet, she rushed to her bedroom and hid the note in her underwear drawer. She’d burn it later, like the others. For now, she had to calm down and appear as normal as possible. And that wasn’t easy, because she’d fallen in love with John. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

How ironic…

“Karen?” John was knocking again.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and opened the door. “Hi.”

He offered her a sheepish smile. “Did you get my message?”

He’d called to tell her he was sorry about Sunday. He was always short-tempered when Cain was around, but he’d been especially irritable at the diner. For different reasons, the stress of having Cain so close had made them both touchy.

“I did. I’m sorry, too.” Neither of them had meant the things they’d said, but she knew they’d probably argue
about the same subject again. Robert wasn’t a problem that was going to disappear. Apparently, neither was Cain.

“You have to understand that it’s hard to hear you criticize my children,” he said.

And
he
had to understand that Cain wasn’t the bad guy he wanted him to be. John was trying to justify the fact that he’d never been able to love Cain. But after abusing her position as Cain’s teacher, Karen felt obligated to make it up to him, and that included trying to show John the extent to which prejudice tainted his feelings about his stepson.

She didn’t mention that right now, however. After finding a third note on her doorstep, she didn’t want to risk another argument. She needed to feel John’s arms around her. “I know. I’m sorry,” she said and slipped into his embrace.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he said when she clung to him longer than usual.

She dashed a hand across her cheeks to wipe away the tears that’d begun to stream down her face. “Nothing.”

His eyebrows drew together. “Bad day at school?”

“No. Not that. I just…I don’t like it when we fight.”

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I don’t like it either, babe. As a matter of fact, I think it’s time we stopped letting other people cause problems between us.”

Did that mean he was finally going to do something about Robert? She doubted it. More likely he’d suggest a truce: If she didn’t say anything bad about Robert, he wouldn’t say anything about Cain. He’d once asked her why they couldn’t simply pretend the
two men didn’t exist, and she’d tried to explain that they didn’t live in a vacuum. By virtue of Cain and Robert’s connection to John, they were also connected to her. But she was too rattled to be so pragmatic at this particular moment.
She
wanted to be the dreamer for a change.

“That would be good,” she agreed.

“And I think it’ll be easier if…”

When he paused, she drew back to look at him. His body language and tone of voice suggested he was gearing up to say something profound.

“If we get married,” he finished.

Her jaw dropped as he pulled a velvet box from his pocket. “You’re
proposing?
”

He flipped open the lid to reveal a shiny solitaire set in white gold. “Will you marry me, Karen?”

Stunned, she reached for the box. “You’re serious….”

“I’ve never been more serious. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for twelve years. It’s time I made you my wife.”

Even with that note hidden in her underwear drawer, she wanted to say yes. Maybe she felt such eagerness
because
of the note. Marriage would bind them together, make it more difficult for John to leave her. But she’d risk having her husband come home to one of those notes on the doorstep. She couldn’t let that happen.

“What do you say?” he prompted, his eyes dancing with excitement as she stared at the ring.

Her chest had grown so tight she could hardly breathe. Two weeks ago, she would’ve been thrilled. But that was before the past had snuck up on her.

“Aren’t we moving a little too fast?” she asked, stalling so she’d have time to think it through.

He chuckled and cupped the velvet box in her hand, smiling as he gazed down at it. “Are you kidding? We dated for four months twelve years ago. We corresponded for a long time while you were gone and we’ve been together for six months since you came back. How long should it take to know we’re in love?”

“But—” She was reeling, caught between hope and fear. “We haven’t even
talked
about marriage before.”

“We’re talking about it now. It has to start somewhere. Are you going to try it on?”

She took the ring from its padded box and slipped it on her finger.

“How does it fit?”

“Perfect.” The weight of it felt so satisfying, so right.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” It was the very ring she’d admired in a jewelry store window when they’d gone to Kentucky. How thoughtful of him to go back for it. “So…where will we live?”

“In my house, of course. You’re only renting.”

But he had his twenty-five-year-old son living in the backyard. Karen didn’t think she could tolerate having Robert so close. Still, they’d just agreed not to talk about Robert. Or Cain. And she didn’t want to ruin this moment. “When would we do it?” she asked.

“I’ve always thought Christmas would be nice for a wedding.”

Christmas. That gave her a fairly long engagement. Surely within six months she’d have figured out
some
thing
. Maybe whoever was leaving her the notes would get distracted and move on with his or her life, or make a conscious decision to let it go. Bringing up that…incident served no good purpose and stood to hurt other people besides her. “Okay, Christmas,” she breathed.

He tilted up her chin. “That’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes,” she said with more conviction. But she knew a lot had to happen before then. If she couldn’t find out who was tormenting her, she’d have to tell John what she’d done. Otherwise, this person might tell him for her, and that would be much, much worse.
I’ll expose you. Just watch me.

Imagining her confession made Karen’s heart pound with fear. John could surprise her and be forgiving. At times he was so kind, so generous. In this situation, however, it was far more likely that the truth would always stand between them, even if they tried to go on. And if John was ever vindictive enough to take what she confided in him to the police, her life would be ruined.

Could she trust him that much?

She believed she could—if her indiscretion had involved anyone but Cain.

Cain had spent most of the past two days in the woods with his dogs, searching for evidence. And he’d discovered a footprint that matched the ones by the creek the night Sheridan had been attacked. Ned had come out to make a plaster cast of what looked to be a size ten tennis shoe, worn down along the outside heel.

He stayed so busy in the daylight hours that he had
little time to miss Sheridan. The nights were long, however, and the house felt empty without her.

But that was just because he was worried about her, he told himself. Robert had confirmed that she was once again staying in the house where she’d been attacked.

He turned up the TV and flipped to a new station.
She’ll be fine
. Her friend Skye had a gun and obviously knew how to use it. But it would be far too easy for Sheridan’s stalker to shoot her through a window before anyone saw it coming. There was so much activity in the crowded neighborhood; how would anyone know when someone didn’t belong? Would Skye really be able to protect her?

Cain had asked Ned to have someone patrol the area, and Ned had acted as if he’d already planned on it. He wanted to find Amy’s killer, and he believed Amy’s killer was also the man who’d hurt Sheridan, so Cain knew he’d follow through. But having someone cruise down the street was no guarantee of her safety.