Ominous

by Lisa Jackson

  “Who?”

  “My father.”

  He drew a line of kisses from her mouth to her neck and down her abdomen. “Hi, Baby,” he whispered against her skin.

  She stared at the ceiling, aware that her traitorous stomach was having no problem with Blair’s lovemaking. “I’ll have to call him back.”

  “Do it tomorrow.”

  And when he moved lower yet, she grabbed the bedclothes, closed her eyes, and groaned with desire.

  *

  “We have to eat,” Blair said an hour later while they were in the shower together. Between bouts of lovemaking, he’d asked her all sorts of questions about her pregnancy. Half-embarrassed, half-impatient, she realized she had very few answers for him. She knew what she knew, but she hadn’t furthered her knowledge. “I have an appointment with Dr. Cady in about a week,” she said somewhat defensively.

  But now that he was interested in food and in truth, so was she. The uncomfortable fluttering had started again, and she knew that if she didn’t eat something soon it would get worse.

  “We could go to Betty Ann’s and get some—”

  “No. No baked goods.” Kat shuddered.

  “Really? Huh. Okay. How about Molly’s Diner then?” He was soaping her back, and she was letting him, with no qualms, while water ran over her head, aware that they were acting like a couple who’d been dating for ages.

  But his words panicked her. “We can’t go out in public.”

  His hands stopped. “Still don’t want anyone to know?”

  “Not because of you. Because of everything. If I’m seen with you, and then Paul Byrd or his daughter or your foreman says something …”

  “You could beat them to the punch, y’know.”

  “I have to figure out how to tell people, and I can’t just start hanging around with you without a whole lot of questions.” She pulled away from him, rinsed off, and opened the door to the shower, letting the water run out.

  “Hey!”

  He quickly cut the taps as she shut the door behind her. “I’m going to get dressed,” she said. Then she practically ran back to her bedroom and yanked out a pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt that buttoned up the front. By the time Blair appeared a few minutes later, a towel slung around his lean hips, his hair still dripping water, she was dressed and had dragged a comb through her own wet locks.

  “So, we can’t be seen together.” His eyes were glacial blue.

  “Not until I tell my father about the baby, and I don’t want to do that until this case is over.”

  “You want to sneak around in the meantime?” he drawled. “I can do that.”

  She fought back a frustrated chuckle. “No. You have to go now. We’ll … see each other soon.”

  “You said you need to make plans.”

  “Yes. Alone. At least for now.” But she was laughing, and he tried to pull her into his arms again. She sidestepped and said, “Stop it. You’re making me crazy. This is crazy.”

  She left him and headed into the kitchen. Her eyes immediately went to the gold envelope. She knew what was in it, and she knew what it meant: a threat, a warning, a reminder that he was out there, watching and waiting. Did he know that she and Ruth had connected with Erin?

  Her cell phone rang again, and she started guiltily. Sure enough, it was her father. She thought about putting him off some more, but that would only create more questions later.

  “Hey, Dad,” she answered.

  “There you are. I tried to call earlier, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I turned my phone off and forgot to turn it back on.”

  “You want to get together this afternoon? I’ve already got a call into Higgins, but he’s not answering. I might head to the hospital.”

  “This afternoon?” She glanced at the clock. It was eleven AM.

  “Have you seen today’s paper? Jimmy Woodcock sure learned quick about Erin Higgins showing up again.”

  “It’s already in the paper?” She felt a stab of fear, and that reminded her of how she’d felt the night before, and that made her wonder if she’d sensed the intruder. Maybe he’d left the envelope for her then.

  “I’ve got it right here.” Her father read her the article, which explained who Erin Higgins was and theorized that Rachel Byrd had been abducted about the same time, and considered Courtney Pearson and Addie Donovan as victims of the same abductor. Ruth’s name was added to the mix too. It was all there, Kat thought a bit dispiritedly. Everything Erin Higgins was afraid of having come from her.

  She hoped to hell she was safe.

  Blair appeared, fully dressed. His dark hair was still damp, and her mind momentarily tripped to their moments together in bed, and she lost the last part of her father’s recitation. But she got the gist of it.

  “It finishes up with naming you and Ruth as the ones who made the initial connection with her,” Patrick said.

  Kat grunted in acknowledgment, and her eyes strayed to the envelope. “I should be the one to talk to Bryce,” Kat thought aloud. Kind of an asshole, Shiloh had said.

  She glanced at Blair, then had to look away as he seemed to fill the room.

  “Nah, I’m already on that one.”

  In truth, she had no wish to tangle with Bryce. He was ornery and belligerent by nature, and she suspected he wouldn’t appreciate Erin’s secret coming to light unless it was his idea, which she supremely doubted it was. “Then I’ll go see Scott Massey, see if I can get him to come into the station. Let’s meet tomorrow and see what we’ve got. Maybe Erin will be awake by then,” she added hopefully.

  “Can she identify the guy?”

  “I think so, though he was disguised most of the time. But she definitely knows his voice.” She was conscious of Blair overhearing her. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Be careful when you go to see Massey. Maybe you should—”

  “Always,” she cut in, then clicked off before he could say anything more.

  “Food?” Blair reminded.

  “I’ve wasted most of today already. You have to go.” She headed to the door and waited for him.

  “I’ll bring you back something from Molly’s Diner. No baked goods. How about bacon and eggs?”

  “God, no.” She shuddered.

  “Pancakes? Waffles? French toast? Or are those baked goods? How about granola?”

  For whatever reason, her mind hooked on that. “Granola. Wow, that sounds good.”

  “Great. I’ll be back in a flash.” He glanced at the envelope. “And then you can tell me what that’s all about.”

  Chapter 27

  Kat ate every last bite of the granola with yogurt and an array of blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries. Blair had a stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, and they both drank the forgotten coffee Kat had prepared earlier.

  They sat across from each other at the table, and when they finished, Blair said in a tone that brooked no argument, “What’s in the envelope?”

  Kat had opened it after he’d left—the same photo given to Shiloh and Ruth—but the sight of the three of them, naked in the black-and-white photo, even though it was exactly what she’d expected, still made her breath catch in her throat. She’d stared at it for long moments, and her mind had traveled back to that night: the heat, the smells, the sounds, the rutting monster with his ski mask atop Ruth. It had opened a thought in her mind: the bastard had brought a camera with him. It hadn’t been a cell phone. She was pretty sure of that. Hadn’t she actually seen the camera the moment after the flash? Wasn’t it substantial? He must have dropped it before he captured Ruth.

  And people just didn’t carry that size of camera around as a rule, unless they were tourists, or if it was the person’s job. He couldn’t have planned to find them at the pond because their plans had been last minute.

  Bad luck and bad timing, but what had he been doing out there with that camera?

  Kat waved an arm toward her bedroom. “It’s to do with a case.
I put it away.”

  “So it has something to do with your work?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Somebody left you an envelope with just your name on it, no address, and it has to do with your work. And you looked at it in horror.”

  “I didn’t look at it in horror.”

  “You did,” he assured her. “What was in it?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Is it connected to the Erin Higgins case? And Courtney Pearson and Addie Donovan?” He eyed her closely.

  She didn’t immediately answer, and they sat in silence for several long minutes while Kat considered. Should she tell him about the night Ruth was raped? That she and Shiloh were there? That they’d grabbed Ruth and run from her attacker? It was for Ruth to tell, but Ruth had gone public already, maybe not about all the details of that night, but close enough. “It’s a picture,” she finally admitted. “Of Ruth, Shiloh, and me. Skinny-dipping. The guy who took it attacked Ruth right afterward.”

  “You were there … and Shiloh?”

  She nodded.

  “Show me the picture.”

  “No, Blair …”

  “Please.”

  For reasons she didn’t quite understand, she fetched the envelope, watching as he withdrew the photo, seeing his lips tighten into a thin line as he looked down at the black-and-white print. After a moment, he slid the picture back inside its envelope.

  He clarified, “He left you and Ruth and Shiloh copies of this picture. All of you. The guy who raped Ruth.”

  “That’s right. Ruth thinks she’s lucky because she got away. We think he’s the guy who abducted all the others too.”

  “And this is the case you’re working on now,” he reiterated carefully.

  “Yes.” Kat was firm. A bit reluctantly, she related everything about the case that was already public knowledge, only leaving out the part that the barbed wire around Courtney’s wrists had come from the Rocking D, which was still under wraps. When she was finished, she added, “We’ve been talking to a number of different men around Praire Creek who are … persons of interest.”

  “Suspects,” Blair stated flatly. “You and the department.”

  “And my father. He never believed the girls were runaways, and other than Shiloh, it looks like he’s right. And this guy has Addie and maybe Rachel, still, and he made sure Ruth, Shiloh, and I each got a copy of the photo.” She gestured to the envelope. “He’s sending a message.”

  “I get it. And that’s why you need to let someone else handle this,” Blair said seriously. “You need protection. All of you.”

  “I’m a detective, Blair. And Sheriff Featherstone knows the whole story. He knows our list of suspects. Searchers have been looking for Addie since she disappeared. And with Erin’s testimony, we’ll get him.”

  “But you’re pregnant.”

  “I know that. You don’t think I know that?” She glared at him. “Doesn’t mean I still don’t have a job to do.”

  “This is a little different than saving a horse from four-letter words.”

  Kat flushed. She thought about Patrick, who was torn between being proud of her and fearing for her safety. And she recalled how Ira Dillinger had complained about Ricki working in law enforcement. “I’d like to believe I have enough skill at my job that people trust me to do it,” she said dryly.

  “It’s not about that.”

  “Isn’t it? You just said you wouldn’t get in my way.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Don’t do this, Blair.”

  “What? Care? Worry?”

  She could tell he was working himself up, and she was almost glad when her cell rang again and she could sweep it up. Her father once more. “Hey, there,” she said tersely.

  “I know you won’t appreciate it, but I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you wait to interview Massey later, maybe after Erin wakes up?”

  “Erin told Ruth and me all she knew, and it wasn’t enough. I’m not stopping my job for you or anybody else,” she added fiercely.

  “Okay, okay. What’s got into you?” he asked, clearly set back on his heels at her tone.

  “I can take care of myself, that’s all.”

  “I know that, honey. But you know as well as anyone what this bastard’s capable of. I’m just asking you to stand down and let me do the heavy lifting on this one, Katrina.”

  She thought she might scream. She could feel it boiling up inside her. And the worst of it was, she was scared. The picture had scared her deeply. If that’s what the bastard’s message was meant to do, it had worked. And she wasn’t going to let him win.

  “I’m going to interview Massey, maybe today,” she said. “And if I have to, I’ll go back to Haney, and Rafe Dillinger, and Woodcock and Chandler and Bryce Higgins … whoever!” She could have added, I took care of Mom when you and Ethan couldn’t even look at her, and I’m perfectly capable of running my own life, but she knew that would be opening wounds long forgotten by her father and her brother. Instead, her eyes on Blair, she said heatedly, “You just need to stay out of the way and let me do my job.”

  “Kat … ,” Patrick protested.

  “You said you were going to talk to Bryce. I’ve got Massey.”

  “Tell me when you’re on your way to his place.”

  “Okay, this is me telling you. I’m on my way now. I don’t care that it’s Sunday. He might be actually home for once.”

  “You’re going now?” Blair asked.

  “Is someone there?” her father questioned.

  “It’s the television, Dad. I’ll call you when I’m back home.” She clicked off before he could say anything more. “I said that to shut my dad up. I don’t know when I’m going. I don’t even know if I’m going. Maybe I should wait for Erin to wake up … but Erin’s already told us all she knows. I wasn’t wrong about that. She wants us to find this bastard more than anybody. That’s why she crept out of her hiding place to meet with us. But then we spooked her by asking her to come down to the station in Prairie Creek and meet with a sketch artist. It got way too real for her, so she bolted for her car … and drove into traffic without looking.” Kat took several deep breaths. “And yeah, it feels like our fault. Mine and Ruth’s. And I want Erin to be okay. I want them all to be okay! That’s what I want. So don’t get in my way.” Tears were burning behind her eyes, and she blinked madly to keep them at bay.

  “I want to help,” Blair said.

  “Blair, seriously. I already got in trouble at work for talking to my dad before it was sanctioned. I’m not going to get in trouble again.”

  “I’ll go with you when you interview these guys. Jesus, Kat, one of them could be the guy you’re looking for! I don’t have to go in. I’ll just stay in the truck and wait for you. But I’ll be there. You should have a partner with you.”

  “I’m going in my Jeep. By myself.” She drew a breath. Truthfully, the idea of having backup with her wasn’t a bad one, but she sensed it was a slippery slope with Blair. He could take over your life, and not in a good way.

  “You think I can just stand by and let you wander around asking probing questions of a bunch of guys, any one of which could have kept Courtney Pearson a sex slave for twenty years?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Fifteen. You think I can just stand by and let you piss off the same guy who raped your friend? The same guy who sent you a picture from that night of you all naked?”

  “The word ‘let’ isn’t in this discussion.”

  “I can’t do it, Kat. You’re carrying my baby. I’ve got to be involved. I need to help.”

  “And if I weren’t carrying your baby?” she asked testily.

  “I’d still be crazed with worry. I’d still want to be with you. Come on. Seriously. Don’t go off alone and try to prove something.”

  “It’s my job,” she said, stung by the “prove something” comment. But she wasn’t completely foolhardy, either. “And it’s not that dangerous. Scott
Massey has a wife, Joleen. I don’t think they’re kidnapping girls and turning them into sex slaves together.”

  “Maybe he hides it from her.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Are you going to meet with him today?”

  She drew a breath. What the hell. “Might as well. Dad and I are meeting tomorrow to go over everything.”

  “Okay, then, I’ll follow you in my truck. Massey has a long drive to his place. I’ll stay at the end of it. No one’ll know I’m there, but I’ll be nearby.”

  Some of her annoyance dissipated as she listened to his plan. In truth, she appreciated his concern, and maybe it was because of her pregnancy, but she felt oddly weepy and, even stranger, thrilled that he seemed to be staking some kind of claim on her.

  Don’t get carried away, Kat. He’s not declaring undying love. He’s still Blair Kincaid.

  “Hey, Little Kat,” Blair said softly, upon seeing she was blinking back tears. He drew her into his arms, and she let him, laying her head on his shoulder. She wanted someone to lean on. She’d been the strong one for a long, long time.

  Soon she and Blair wound up back in bed together, making love with a tenderness neither had been willing to wait for earlier. And then her cell phone rang once more, and Blair groaned, “This is your day off?”

  “Shhh.” She saw it was her dad, and she answered, “Yes?”

  “Have you left yet? You said you were leaving.”

  “Dad.”

  “This guy’s a sexual predator, and girls like you are his prey. I think it might be best if you let a man do the interviewing on this case from now on.”

  “I’m just going to invite him down to the station for an interview. That’s all. Okay?”

  “Okay.” He was grudging.

  “So how’re things going with Goldie?” she asked as a means to change the subject.

  “It’s all business.”

  “Sure it is.”

  Blair’s head was back under the covers. She could feel his tongue on her belly button, and it was moving lower. Sucking in a quiet breath, she gritted her teeth, then said, “Okay, let’s make this the last call, okay?”

  “I want to hear from you after the interview.”