by Joanna Wayne
Leif watched Joni as she examined the photo. She took her time, but Leif knew from the instantaneous tremble of her lips and the haunted glaze that darkened her eyes that something in the picture struck a chord with her.
“It’s him,” she whispered, lowering the picture and peering over it.
“You’re sure?” the detective asked cautiously.
She nodded.
“Do you mind if I record this conversation?” the detective asked.
“No. Not if it will help you apprehend the killer.”
Morgan set a pencil-size recorder on the coffee table that separated him from Joni. A red light blinked and then turned green.
“Will you state your full name for the record?”
Joni sat up straighter. “My name is Joni Marie Griffin.”
“Can you tell me exactly where you’ve seen the man in the sketch before?”
“I can.” Her voice was steady and strong with conviction. She clearly had no doubts. “The man in the sketch is the man who came to my house looking for work last week. He said he could do any kind of construction or handyman jobs that I had.”
“But you didn’t hire him?”
“No.”
“Have you seen the man since then?”
“I saw him, or a man who resembled him, working on Jill Trotter’s roof, though I knew her as Evie Monsant at the time.”
“Were you able to get a good look at him when he was on her roof?”
“No,” Joni admitted. “I was passing by her house in my car, but I did notice that the pickup truck in her driveway was black.”
“Was it the same pickup truck the man drove to your house?”
“I can’t be certain of that, but they looked similar.”
Leif leaned over for a better look at the sketch. He could easily see how Joni could be so sure. The facial features were exceptionally detailed, right down to the receding hairline, the shape of the eyes and a scar along the right jawline.
Whoever had given the description must have had a good look at the suspect.
When Joni finished describing the truck, Morgan had her hand him the sketch. He returned it to his briefcase and pulled out yet another sketch, this one a profile. He handed it to Joni.
“Does this man look familiar? Take your time. We’re in no hurry here.”
This time she answered in under a minute. “It’s the same man.”
“Thank you.” Morgan reached over and turned off the recorder. “Great job, Dr. Griffin.”
“Thank your sketch artist,” Joni said. “The details made my job easy.”
“The DPD is fortunate enough to have one of the most talented in the business,” Morgan agreed. “When she gets accurate information, she’s almost as definitive as a photo.”
“Who gave the original description?” Leif asked.
“A rape victim who miraculously escaped meeting the same fate as Mrs. Trotter. She was a patient consultant for a cosmetic surgeon, so she was used to analyzing facial features so her description was more detailed than we normally get.”
“Did he pose as a handyman with her, too?” Joni asked.
“I’m sorry,” the detective said. “I’m not at liberty to say more. But you’ve been a tremendous help. With luck, we’ll make an arrest before he can strike again.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call,” Morgan said. “I’ll step outside.”
“Are you finished with me?” Joni said.
“No. Please stay where you are. I’ll be right back.” The phone was in his hand and he was punching in a number before he’d cleared the front door.
Joni turned to Leif. “The man in that sketch stood on my front porch. I looked him right in the eye. In spite of his gory tattoo, I might have hired him to do some of the things my landlord doesn’t take care of if I’d had the money.” She trembled and wrapped her arms around her chest. “I might have been the woman attacked and murdered instead of Jill Trotter.”
Leif reached for her hand. It was cold. Joni was spunky as hell, but she was only human. This was getting to her and with good reason. Which meant it might be the best time to tell her that there was no way he was leaving her alone in that house until the killer was in custody.
Morgan returned before he got the chance. This time he didn’t sit, but stood between Joni’s chair and the door.
“There are some developments you should know about, Joni. Listen, but don’t get unduly upset. I can assure you that we have everything under control.”
Words that struck fear in every citizen’s heart, including Leif’s.
Joni slipped her hand from Leif’s. “What do you mean by under control? Is the suspect in custody?”
“Not yet, but we expect him to be soon. In the meantime, a pair of officers from the Dallas Police Department will stake out your house tonight and for the next twenty-four hours—perhaps longer.”
“Why? Do you have some reason to suspect the handyman would come after me?”
“It’s a precautionary measure. Someone broke into your house today and left a threatening note. If he comes back, we’ll apprehend him.”
“Because you think he could be Jill’s killer?” Joni insisted.
“It’s possible.” The detective picked up his recorder and briefcase, clearly eager to head out now that he had what he needed from Joni.
“It’s ludicrous,” Joni protested. “A few hours ago Sheriff Garcia insinuated the man who broke into my house was a local admirer turned stalker who didn’t want me hanging out with Leif. Now all of a sudden you think a killer I’ve only seen once would be stalking me instead of clearing out of Oak Grove as fast as he could.”
“Like I said, staking out your house is just a precautionary measure.”
Leif wasn’t buying it, and he seriously doubted that Joni was, either. Something, perhaps the handwriting on the scribbled note he’d left her, had tied Joni to Jill’s killer. And now the DPD was throwing everything they had into catching this man.
This had all the trappings of something big—like a dragnet to nab a serial killer. They wanted their man, even if it meant using Joni for bait.
“Your staking out the house is fine,” Leif said. “As long as Joni isn’t in it.”
“Dr. Griffin will not be in danger at any time,” the detective insisted. “The house will be watched every second. If the man who broke in today returns, he’ll be arrested before he gets inside the house.”
“If the officers are parked in front of my house, surely the man would have better sense than to come barging in,” Joni said.
“The officers will be out of sight but in position and with equipment that allows them to monitor the house at all times.”
“But if he does get inside without their seeing him?” Joni asked. “What then?”
“That would be very unlikely, but if that happens, all you have to do is scream. Officers could reach you in a matter of seconds.”
Leif became more certain of his conclusion by the second. They were hot on the trial of The Hunter and the trail ran right through Joni.
“Not good enough. You can have the house as long as it’s okay with Joni, but Joni will not be in it,” Leif reiterated.
The detective grimaced. “I can assure her safety.”
“Not to my satisfaction,” Leif said.
Joni placed a hand on Leif’s arm. “I appreciate your concern, but this has to be my decision.”
“What is your decision?” the detective asked.
“Will my staying in the house help you catch the killer?”
“It could.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
The determination in her voice convinced Leif he’d never talk her out of it, not that he’d stop trying.
But he was just as determined. Officers hiding out in the woods wouldn’t cut it. Joni might stay in her house tonight, but whether Morgan approved or not, she wouldn’t be staying alone.
Chapter Fourteen
It was growing dark early now. The change suited him. Once the sun set, his blood seemed to run hotter and his energy level climbed.
His mother used to joke that he was like a vampire who came to life when the sun went down. She’d been partly right. Another side of him did awake fully at night, but it didn’t fully disappear when the sun came up.
He settled in the chair, popped a small white pill and washed it down with a swig of cold beer. Alcohol and medication didn’t mix. His psychiatrist had warned him of that all the time back when the shrink was still supplying the prescription.
Now he got a different kind of pill and a different kind of high without having to pretend to listen to the arrogant bastard who thought a couple of college degrees made him a god.
After reaching for the remote, he kicked back and turned on the evening news. It was a minute or two early, but coverage of Jill Trotter’s murder might get top billing. He didn’t want to miss a second of that.
A guy could get shot in a drug deal gone bad and the network anchors never gave that a mention. But let someone like Jill Trotter get what she had coming to her, and it got days of hype in the newspapers, on the radio and on the TV.
Of course they’d never say that, like her husband, Jill deserved to die. The Trotters were users. They took what they wanted from whomever they chose.
Jill had thought she was so smart. Changed her name. Changed her hair. Even had cosmetic surgery to change her appearance. No doubt she’d fooled lots of people. But not him.
He’d sat in that trial and watched her day after day—him and dozens of other trial junkies. He’d blended in perfectly, chatted with the others about Jill’s guilt, joked about the stupid judge and cursed the sorry defense attorney. But all the while he’d been studying Jill, thinking about how he’d kill her, as well.
He’d memorized the little things about her. The sound of her voice. The way she walked. The way she tugged on a strand of her hair when thinking and then tucked it behind her right ear. The way her left eye squinted when she was irritated.
For five years he’d planned her death, perfecting how he’d torture and kill her. He’d almost given up on that dream, but then, when he’d least expected it, he’d stumbled across her.
The commercial ended and the female newscaster looked solemnly into the camera.
“Police report that they’re looking for a person of interest in the Oak Grove murder of Jill Trotter. They have still not confirmed or denied that the brutal murder was the work of the serial killer who’s been referred to as The Hunter.”
He listened to the rest of the newscast as he finished off the beer. The police were a joke. They didn’t have a clue. They might make an arrest but they’d have the wrong person, the same as they had when they’d arrested Jill Trotter for the murder of her husband.
But they might have another murder to solve soon. He was tired of women who smiled and flirted and then dropped you for a rich attorney like Leif Dalton.
He’d warned Joni. And he never made threats he didn’t mean to keep. If she let Leif back into her house tonight, his tolerance would come to an end.
Joni’s fate was in her hands.
And in his. He’d have her one way or another.
Happy Thanksgiving to me.
Chapter Fifteen
For once the kitchen at the big house was quiet, though odors of cinnamon, pumpkin and spices wafted through every room. Tempting pies lined the counter. None had been cut as yet, so Leif took an apple from a wooden bowl overflowing with fruit and nuts.
He couldn’t remember eating lunch—wasn’t sure he had. Meals, like time, seemed to run together and had ever since Effie had arrived and Joni had been pulled into danger.
He felt like he was skidding across waxed glass with no way to stop or even to slow down enough to prepare for the upcoming crash.
Polishing the apple with his fingertips, he walked out the back door and sat down on the steps. The late-afternoon sun was already racing toward the horizon painting the sky in layers of gold.
It was the first time he’d been at the house alone. It felt eerily foreboding, as if the ranch had become too familiar and he was casting shadows that would pull him back here against his will.
Circumstances had already tilted his world at weird angles. In another hour or so, he’d be joining the Daltons for dinner again. Tonight they’d eat at Adam and Hadley’s private oasis in the middle of Dry Gulch Ranch. Their house, but still so much a part of the ranch that there was no real separation from R.J.
Admittedly, they seemed happy with the arrangement—even Adam, who’d been the first to walk away the day they’d had the reading of the will. A few months seemed to have altered everything for him.
Adam was giving the women a break from the Thanksgiving Day meal preparations by making a pot of homemade chili.
Joni had left for Hadley’s a few minutes ago after checking on one of R.J.’s injured horses. Leif had offered to drive her to the cottage, but she’d turned him down in favor of one of R.J.’s four-wheelers. He figured she needed some alone time what with all she’d been hit with today.
He wasn’t sure where Effie and R.J. were. Wherever they were, hopefully Effie wasn’t trying to persuade him to lobby for her ridiculous plan of moving in with him.
Leif took another bite of the apple and then pulled out his clean handkerchief to wipe the sweet juices from his lips and chin. The apple took the edge off Leif’s hunger. Too bad it couldn’t take the edge off his problems with Effie or the danger facing Joni.
Odd how that when the going got rough, a man’s concentration always focused on the most cherished people in his life. Naturally, that would include Effie. She’d been the most important person in his life since the day she was born.
He’d been afraid to hold her at first, afraid his hands would be too rough for her porcelain-like skin or that he wouldn’t support her head in just the right way. But once he’d taken her in his arms, he’d known he’d want to nourish and protect her for the rest of his life.
He loved his daughter so very much.
But his mind was also consumed by Joni. How could she have reached such an exalted state of importance to him when he barely knew her? How could he feel so close to her and so protective of her?
How could he have grown dizzy with wanting her when they’d kissed? Leif knew infatuation, lust and pure physical excitement. The kiss had been far more than any of that.
The only thing he knew for certain was that he’d protect her with his life if it came to that.
* * *
R.J. LEANED AGAINST Miss Dazzler’s stall. “You’re looking down in the mouth tonight. Don’t understand why you had to stay in the boring stall all day, do you, pretty lady?”
The injured filly pawed the straw at her feet and neighed softly as if she understood and appreciated the sympathy.
R.J. didn’t spend nearly as much time with his horses as he had before the brain tumor had started causing problems for him, but he still came to the barn when he was especially troubled or needed to think.
This afternoon even the company of his horses wasn’t doing a lot to clear his mind. There was just too damn much conflict floating around the ranch.
Joni was definitely not herself. She’d been quiet as a sleeping field mouse when she’d checked on Miss Dazzler. He hoped Leif wasn’t the one causing her grief.
He kinda thought that might be the case, though. The two of them were spending an awful lot of time together for people who’d just met.
Joni was a good country girl. She’d be no match for someone as worldly and
sophisticated as Leif, especially if Leif was anything like the womanizer R.J. had been at that age. Kind of like having his hens come home to roost for R.J.
And then there was the tension between Leif and Effie. Thick enough you could use it for a mattress if you were looking to sleep with trouble.
The door to the horse barn creaked open. R.J. looked up. Speak of the devil.
Leif glanced around the barn. “Where’s Effie?”
“At Adam’s house.”
“She didn’t ride down there by herself, did she?”
“Nope. She caught a ride back to Adam’s when he came down to bring a sweet potato casserole Hadley cooked up for tomorrow’s lunch. She said she’d meet us there.”
Leif nodded, but he didn’t look pleased. R.J. figured the displeasure was more from being stuck there alone with him than with Effie not being there.
“Effie’s really growing attached to Lila and Lacy,” R.J. said.
“So it would seem.”
Leif looked around the barn again, this time letting his gaze settle on the names of the horses displayed above the stalls. “You’ve got some nice animals. Miss Dazzler there is a real beauty.”
“She’s my favorite,” R.J. admitted. “Got an injured fetlock now though. That’s what brought the doc out yesterday.” R.J. raked his thin fingers through his thinning hair. “You two seem to be hitting it off.”
“Joni is easy to be around.”
“She’s a nice lady, Leif. Real nice. And honest. Don’t go breaking her heart if you’re just playing around.”
Leif’s brows arched and the muscles in his arms strained against his cotton shirtsleeves. “That, coming from you?”
“I never claimed to have set the best example in the world.”
Amazingly, Leif didn’t have a comeback. Instead, he walked through the barn, stopping at first one stall and then another. “Is there anything I can help you with while I’m here?”
