“I drove a Bureau car when I was working,” he said with a lift of one shoulder. “But it wouldn’t have mattered. Nothing could ever replace June.”
Ellie resisted the urge to continue bantering with her companion. She was already sexually obsessed with Nate Marcel. She didn’t need his potent charm swaying her into making a decision they would both regret in the end.
Turning her head to glance out the side window, she remained silent as they entered the outskirts of Curry. Nate accepted her tactical withdrawal without comment. Instead, he concentrated on navigating the narrow streets that were lined with trees.
They passed by the strip mall that had a dollar store, a laundromat, and a pizza joint that served amazingly delicious calzones. Then they turned the corner that led to the center of town.
In the middle of the square was a large stone building that housed the courthouse and city hall, as well as the sheriff’s office. The jail had recently been moved from the basement to a new building north of town.
Ellie’s own office was across the street. Not only because it was a convenient location, but it’d belonged to the previous lawyer, which meant the locals would know where to find her.
The downside had been that she’d had to completely gut the place. For two weeks, the construction crew had pulled out the dark paneling and shag carpeting that had been installed during the sixties. Then she’d had the walls painted a pale gray and installed tile floors and sleek furniture that offered a sense of sophistication.
She’d never compete with the old lawyer’s reputation for solid dependability. Not until she’d been there for twenty years or so. Oh, and changed her sex to male. Instead, she gave them the appearance of a glossy professional while she proved her ability to be a shark in the courtroom.
“You can let me off at the corner.” She abruptly broke the silence.
The traffic was one-way in front of her building. She didn’t want him to drive all the way around the square to park. His jaw tightened, but he swerved to pull to a halt in front of the post office.
She hastily unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. “Thanks for the lift,” she said, ignoring the small pang of regret that she’d once again managed to make things awkward between them.
Without warning, he reached out to lightly grab her arm. “Ellie.”
She glanced over her shoulder, meeting his somber gaze. “Yes?”
“Be careful.”
She gave a slow nod. This time she didn’t try to dismiss his concern. Not when a tingle of unease fluttered through the pit of her stomach.
“I will.”
Chapter Two
It’s a perfect day. Crisp air, golden sunlight, and the sound of birds singing in the nearby trees.
I hum beneath my breath as I work. It’s hard. Daniel Perry might look like a scarecrow after his years of abusing drugs and alcohol, but he is heavy enough to make me breathe hard as I drag him across the hard ground.
Once he’s in the middle of the field, I carefully create the scene I desire. He’s still unconscious from the drugs I injected when he’d so foolishly agreed to meet me last night. It makes it easy to curl him into a fetal ball. I step back, surveying my handiwork. He’s surrounded by prairie grass and a sprinkling of early spring wildflowers.
Beautiful.
I move back to ensure everything is perfect.
Daniel’s curled up like a small child and I smooth the dark hair from his face. He looks peaceful when he’s sleeping. Not at all like the tense, angry man who stalked around town with a chip on his shoulder.
He is going to look even more peaceful.
I tug at the sleeve of his leather jacket until his forearm is exposed. Then, reaching into the pocket of my coat, I pull out the syringe that I prepared in advance.
Stabbing the needle into his arm, I press the plunger and fill his veins with enough pure heroin to kill an elephant. I watch in fascination, waiting for some sign that the drug is flowing through his body, destroying what few cells he hasn’t already fried. I don’t know what I expect. Pain. Ecstasy. Fear.
There’s nothing.
I wait. And wait.
Overhead the sun continues to shine and the birds are singing. I hum my soft tune. Then Daniel makes a sound. Like a low grunt. I lean forward, watching his lips part as he releases his last breath.
Death creeps into the meadow, brushing past me as it collects Daniel’s miserable soul, leaving as silently as it arrived.
The complete opposite of life, I realize with a small jolt of surprise. Birth was a noisy, messy business. Blood and screams and pain. The death I offer is a quiet, peaceful event.
Fascinating.
I slowly straighten, pulling the needle from his arm. I look down.
I’ve done good work, but I feel no pleasure.
Daniel isn’t my victim.
No. He’s a message.
You. Will. Pay.
* * *
Nate watched as Ellie traveled down the sidewalk, her chin tilted and her pace brisk.
She looked like a woman headed into war.
He snorted, pulling away from the curb as she entered her office without glancing back. Ellie Guthrie was a woman who constantly acted like she was ready to battle. At least with him.
At first, he’d assumed her prickly attitude was a result of a woman forging a path through a man’s world. He’d known female FBI agents with the same brittle façade. They’d endured too many insults, harassment, and downright bullying over the years not to become defensive.
But then he’d seen her with other men around town. She hadn’t been flirtatious. That wasn’t her style. But she’d certainly appeared a lot friendlier.
Another man might have been offended. Who wanted to have the most beautiful woman in town treat him like he carried the plague? Nate, however, was a man with a healthy ego. He told himself that Ellie’s cold-shoulder treatment wasn’t because she didn’t like him.
It was because she was afraid she might like him too much.
His lips twitched as he turned the corner and pulled his truck into the parking lot of the local diner. Okay, he could be way off base. She might genuinely believe he was an ass. She wouldn’t be the first or the last. But he’d convinced himself over the past year that her elaborate effort to avoid him was wariness at the fiery awareness that had sparked between them.
He chose a spot where he could easily exit the lot and switched off the noisy engine. Old habits died hard. Even after two years of being retired from the Bureau. Then, leaning back in his seat, he sucked in a deep breath. Ellie’s light floral scent lingered in the air. It teased at him, like a promise.
Abruptly he recalled the first time he’d seen her.
He’d heard that the new owner of the property next to his had arrived. At the time, the only thing he’d known was that she was the daughter of Colin Guthrie, who’d once worked in the local prosecutor’s office before moving to Oklahoma City and eventually becoming a judge. Oh, and that she was a defense attorney who was opening her own law firm in Curry.
A part of him wanted to ignore her arrival. He’d worked in the FBI long enough to have watched perps who were guilty as hell walk away from justice because of some technicality used by their devious lawyer. But his mother had deeply ingrained a sense of proper manners into all four of her sons. The older woman would travel to Curry and whack him on the head with a wooden spoon if she discovered he hadn’t done his duty.
So, he’d arrived on Ellie’s doorstep with a forced smile and an offer to help with any repairs.
His first impression hadn’t been great.
It wasn’t because she’d been dressed in jeans and an old sweatshirt, with smudges on her face. Any fool could detect the ethereal beauty that was hidden beneath the dirt and cobwebs that clung to her glossy hair. But she’d had an aloof, frosty expression that made him think of an ice princess.
It hadn’t taken long, however, to stir his fascination. It started with the sensual aware
ness that smoldered in her dark eyes whenever she thought he wasn’t looking. She might pretend that she wasn’t interested, but she wanted him.
Bad.
Then, she’d opened her mouth and her sharp, slightly snarky banter had sealed the deal.
Smart and sexy.
His ultimate weakness.
And the fact that she’d spent the past year attempting to elude him had only intensified his determination to charm his way past her defenses. Like how he’d been when he’d set his mind on buying this truck. It didn’t matter how many extra chores his mother had demanded he do, or how many nights out with his friends he had to miss to earn enough money for gas; he’d set his heart on the rusty old pickup and nothing was going to stop him.
Hell, the fact he’d had to struggle to finally achieve his goal only made his final victory all the sweeter.
Nate gave a short laugh. Ellie would cut off his balls if she knew he was comparing her to his truck.
Giving a rueful shake of his head, Nate jumped out of the vehicle and headed toward the diner. He had a meeting this morning with the bank manager. But first he needed coffee. Strong and black. Not only for the jolt of caffeine, but he needed to clear his brain before he made his pitch for a loan.
He’d mulled over his decision for six months before making the appointment. He wasn’t going to ruin everything because he was still worried about Ellie Guthrie.
Crossing the small lot, he’d nearly reached the glass door when it was pushed open and Walter Perry stepped out of the diner.
Nate moved back, waiting for Walter to clear the doorway. The retired sheriff was a short, wiry man with features that always reminded Nate of a rat. Small and beady. He had a rapidly balding head that he kept hidden beneath his stained cowboy hat and a gray stubble on his jaw. This morning he was wearing a western-style shirt with pearl snaps for buttons and dark jeans.
Nate forced a smile to his lips. The older man was a blowhard who’d latched onto Nate as soon as he moved to the area. Walter seemed to believe that the fact they’d both worked in law enforcement meant they were destined to be best buddies.
Nate didn’t agree, but he was too polite to blatantly snub the retired sheriff.
“Hey, Walter,” he said, glancing through the glass door to the table at the back of the dining room.
Every morning, rain or shine, the local men gathered to play four-point pitch and drink coffee.
“Finished with your card game already?”
“Yep.” Walter’s lips twisted into a humorless smile. “We drank a pot of coffee, now we all have to go home and take a piss.” He shook his head. “Getting old stinks.”
Nate could sympathize. Although he’d just celebrated his thirty-fourth birthday, he already had a few aches and pains when he woke in the morning.
“I suppose it could be worse,” he murmured.
Walter turned his head to spit out the juice from his chewing tobacco.
“You know, I used to have a calendar on my desk where every morning I would mark off the days to my retirement,” he said.
Nate kept his smile in place. He didn’t talk about his own early retirement. Even after two years it still gave him nightmares.
“A lot of lawmen have those calendars,” he instead said.
Walter gave a faint shake of his head, his eyes growing distant as he became lost in his inner thoughts.
“I had some crazy fantasy that my days were going to be filled with fishing and playing cards with my pals and teaching my grandkids how to throw a curveball.”
“Sounds like a perfect retirement.”
Walter snorted. “Turns out that I hate fishing, and my son . . .” The older man’s words trailed away. He didn’t have to say that his only child was a burnout who was headed for jail. Or just as likely, the morgue. “Well, he isn’t going to be giving me grandkids anytime soon,” he finally muttered. “And years of playing cards with the same five guys is enough to make a man wish he was still at his desk and retirement was just a distant dream.”
Nate frowned. The onetime sheriff was always gruff. Most people in town called him cantankerous. But there was a bitter edge in his voice that Nate hadn’t noticed before.
“Is everything okay, Walter?”
A shadow darkened the rat features before Walter was waving away Nate’s concern.
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?”
The man forced out a laugh. “You know how it is. When it rains it pours.”
Nate had heard rumors that Walter’s wife had left town years ago with the math teacher, so he couldn’t be talking about marital problems. And the older man seemed to have plenty of money in his retirement. At least, he drove a brand-new truck and he had a beautiful brick home just a few blocks away.
Which left his son, Daniel.
A constant pain in Walter’s ass.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he offered, even as he knew there was nothing he could do.
Daniel was an addict. No one could save him. Not until he was ready.
“Maybe we’ll go fishing together next week,” Walter said, his smile strained.
“Sounds good,” Nate agreed.
“See ya around.”
Nate watched the older man walk toward the end of the squat building, his steps slow and precise, as if he was concentrating to make sure he didn’t stumble.
Giving a shake of his head, Nate entered the diner.
Walter might not be his favorite person in Curry, but it pained him to see the old man looking so troubled. A damned shame he couldn’t beat some sense into Daniel.
Chapter Three
Ellie leaned back in her office chair and heaved a sigh. She’d spent the past two hours trying to concentrate on the appeal she hoped to file before the end of the week. Instead, she found herself unable to focus on the computer screen in front of her.
It was annoying. Nothing ever interfered with her dedication to her clients. But even after she’d called Green’s Auto and arranged for them to replace her tires, she couldn’t completely quash the vague unease that someone had actually snuck onto her property and stabbed her tires.
It was creepy.
Who could possibly hate her that much?
Oh, she had people who she’d angered since moving to Curry. As Nate had pointed out, her job as a defense attorney meant that the victim’s family blamed her if she managed to prove her client’s innocence. Or occasionally to get him off on a technicality. And, of course, her client’s family was angry if their loved one ended up in jail. No matter how guilty they might be.
But she couldn’t imagine any of them creeping through the dark to vandalize her car, which was parked miles outside of town. Why not throw a rock through her office window?
She released a breath through clenched teeth.
She blamed Nate.
If he hadn’t been so certain that someone had slashed her tires, she would have assumed it was nothing more than an aggravating accident.
She should change into her jogging clothes she kept stashed in her file cabinet, she abruptly decided. A run always cleared her mind, and Curry had a paved bike path along the nearby river. It was a perfect place to burn off her excess energy.
Not as fun as getting Nate in her bed . . . No, no, no.
Nate Marcel had caused enough disruption in her day. She wasn’t going to waste another second thinking about him. Or his hard, naked body.
With a sharp motion, she was on her feet and turning away from her desk. Yep. Definitely time for a run.
She was preoccupied with her inner thoughts, but a sudden movement outside her window instantly distracted her.
With a frown, she crossed the silver rug to peer out the clear glass. She didn’t have a great view. The real estate agent had called it a private garden. Ellie called it a cement slab surrounded by low hedges.
She assumed at one time it’d been a parking spot for the office, but the previous owner had transformed it into a place to enj
oy a cigarette in private. She’d found ashtrays hidden beneath the hedges and a lighter on the wrought-iron table in the center of the slab.
Now she turned her head from side to side, trying to catch sight of who’d been lurking near her window.
A shadow darted across the edge of the patio, but even as she pushed the window open, whoever was there had disappeared behind the bakery next to her building.
A chill snaked down her spine. With a shiver, she slammed down the window and backed away. At the same time the door behind her was shoved open and her secretary stepped into the office.
Doris was dressed in her usual uniform of knee-length skirt and wool sweater. Her short gray hair was held in place by a coat of lacquer, or maybe it was hairspray—either way, it wasn’t going anywhere. Her thin, lined face held a hint of worry as she cast a glance around the office before studying Ellie with confusion.
“God Almighty,” she breathed, pressing a hand to the pearl necklace hung around her birdlike neck. “I thought you’d fallen.”
Ellie released a shaky breath. “Sorry.”
The older woman frowned, her head tilting to the side as she noticed Ellie’s pallor.
“What’s wrong?”
Ellie forced a smile. “Nothing.”
“Nothing, eh?” Doris took a step toward her. The secretary might be in her sixties, but her gaze was still razor sharp. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Ellie shivered, unable to halt her instinctive glance toward the window.
“I’m jumping at shadows.”
Doris wasn’t fooled. “What kind of shadow?”
Ellie hesitated. She’d told Doris about her tires. It wasn’t like she had a choice when she’d shown up at the office without her car. But she didn’t want to frighten her secretary with the thought there might be some pervert out there peeking through windows.
Then she gave a roll of her eyes. What was she thinking? It would take more than a pervert to scare Doris.
The older woman had spent a few youthful years on the rodeo circuit. She’d shared enough colorful stories with Ellie to prove she had nerves of steel.
You Will Suffer Page 3
