When the Tiger Kills: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller: Book One
Page 27
“Why not? You just found your sister after sixteen years. I'd say that calls for a celebration. And what better way to celebrate than with sex?”
Exasperated, Dawn said, “Don't you ever think about anything else?”
“Of course I do. Let's see, there's sports, jet planes, helicopters, fast cars, food, television, and beer. See? Lots of other stuff up in the old noggin besides sex. But you can't blame a guy if sex gets top billing.”
Stalking over to the vanity and picking up the hairbrush, she ran it through her hair a couple of times, then winged it across the room in his direction, but not directly at him, Ty noted. It passed a good two inches to his right. Sighing, he walked over to the bed and flopped down on his back. Lacing his fingers behind his head, he said speculatively, “Looks like you're all wound up and just full of vim and vigor tonight, Dawn. If you want to get a good night’s sleep, you could go outside and take a brisk walk around the grounds before turning in for the night. But if you’d rather stay here, I think I could come up with a more creative and satisfying way for both of us to wind down.”
At that one, Dawn choked and tried to stifle something between a gasp and a giggle. Taking that as a sign of encouragement, Ty picked up a pillow from the bed and hurled it at her. She caught it easily.
“You want to start a pillow fight? Fine.” She flew across the room, leaped onto the bed, and began pummeling him mercilessly. He took it for a while, then wrested the pillow from her and tossed it aside. Pulling her down on her back beside him, he linked hands with her. She didn't resist, but simply lay there quietly beside him, staring up at the ceiling. He gave it a minute or two, then said, “Feeling better now?”
“Yeah.”
“Tired enough to turn in and get a good night's sleep?”
“No.”
He waited another minute, then said, “Offer's still open, if you're interested.”
She turned her head to look at him. “You know what I'm going to do first thing in the morning? I'm going to go on the Internet, find a website that defines the word incorrigible, and paste your picture right next to it.”
“Yeah, that's what they all say.”
“There'd better not be any 'all' about it, buster. Just you and me.”
“Always and forever, Dawn. That's what we promised, remember?”
“I remember.” Ah, what the hell, she thought. Maybe he was right. Turning her head so that she was facing him, she said, “We need to be clear about a few things. First of all, you're about as delicate as … as …” Frustrated, she said, “What did I compare you to the last time we had this conversation?”
“I’ve never claimed to be delicate before. The last time, I said that you hurt my sensitive feelings. And you responded that I was about as sensitive as a rhinoceros.”
“Okay, so I can't use that one again. I’m going to have to think of another one. Something with a really, really, hard head and a thick hide." She furrowed her brow in concentration.
“Elephant?” Ty suggested. “Wild boar? Hippopotamus?”
“Hippopotamus. Yeah, that's a good one. You're about as delicate as a hippopotamus, Tyrell Lewellen. Second,” she continued, “this is not make-up sex. It's a celebration. You got that?”
“Oh, absolutely, Dawn.”
“Third...”
“There's more?”
“You bet. Third... Oh, crap – I forgot what I was going to say.”
“It'll come back to you,” he said in a comforting tone of voice.
She decided that whatever the third thing was, it could wait. It was time for action, not words. So she rolled over on top of him, fitted her mouth to his, kissed him with all the heat that was welling up inside of her. And then it was just the two of them. Always and forever, she thought, just before she lost the power to think coherently at all.
Chapter 13
As he walked up the sidewalk to Vaughn Makella's house in the wee hours of the morning, Sergeant Joel Chernet was met half-way by a man whom he recognized as his counterpart in the Vermont State Police, Sergeant Marcus Oppenwall.
“Chernet?” After a brief nod from the other, he said, “I'm Oppenwall.” Inclining his head toward the house, he said, “From the photographs you sent us, we're pretty certain that one of them is yours.”
“How many total? You didn't mention it when we talked earlier.”
“Five. We've already positively ID'd one of them – Alissa Gordena. We're fairly certain that another is Crystal Rogar. If you can identify a third, that'll leave us only two more to go.”
“Thanks for letting me come in and check out the scene in person. The Michigan State Police appreciates the cooperation.”
Oppenwall shrugged. “Coroner's been here and the crime scene techs have finished processing the scene, but they haven't taken them away yet. So you might as well come on in.” Oppenwall led the way into the house and proceeded downstairs to the basement. Crossing to the back wall, he indicated a large door. “We found them in there. According to the records, Makella had it installed six years ago.”
He slid the door open, and Chernet found himself inside a large, walk-in freezer, of the type he had previously seen only in commercial properties like grocery stores and food production plants. There were built-in shelves lining the walls. And five of the shelves were occupied. Slowly making his way across the floor, he scanned the bodies laid out on the first two. Shaking his head, he shifted his glance to the third. Blowing out a breath and running a hand over his brow, he approached the figure that lay on the third shelf, staring down at it for a long minute.
“That your girl?”
Chernet nodded and said, “That's her. Tamara Norti. I've known for a long time now that there wasn't a ghost of a chance of finding her alive, but I never imagined I'd find her like this.”
He bent down to examine her more closely. She was lying flat on her back, with her arms crossed over her chest. She was still wearing the clothes she'd had on when she disappeared, and from what Chernet could make out from her frozen features, she looked peaceful enough. So there was a chance, at least, that the sick bastard who had taken her hadn't tortured or assaulted her before he had robbed her of her life. A small comfort, perhaps, but at least it was something that he could offer to her family.
Straightening up, he asked, “Was the coroner able to determine anything about the cause of death? Beyond the obvious, I mean.”
Oppenwall shook his head. “Not yet. He'll have to get the bodies back to the lab first, thaw them out. He'll be able to tell us more after he does the autopsies.” Looking around and indicating the empty shelves, he added, “If he hadn't been caught, that girl in Colorado would've ended up on one of those shelves next. And who knows how many others? Looking up at Chernet, who topped him by a good six inches, Oppenwall inquired, “Has he said anything yet to the Colorado cops?”
“Not yet. When I talked to Rafe Melbourne last night, he said that Makella's psychiatrist had heard about the arrest on the news and had immediately gotten in touch with them, insisting that if he had gone off his medication, Makella wasn't competent enough to make a decision about getting legal representation. He demanded that they get Makella an attorney and arrange for a psychiatric evaluation before they question him. Given Makella's history of mental problems, the District Attorney's office decided to do just that. No point in getting a confession out of him only to have a judge throw it out on the grounds that he wasn't competent.”
“What about the victim? Was she in good enough shape to be interviewed?”
“Yeah. Melbourne didn't go into the particulars, but he said that the girl was able to give them a full and detailed statement, enough to hopefully put Makella away for a long, long time.”
“And Sergeant Melbourne's partner? Is it true that the victim's turned out to be some sort of long-lost relative, or is that just a rumor that the press is trying to turn into their usual media circus?”
“It's no rumor; it's been confirmed. Turns out that the vic
tim, Leanne Zarafin, really is Detective Cimarron's sister, who went missing sixteen years ago. It's almost enough to make me believe in that karma shit. Anyway, Melbourne says that the press has pounced on the story like a bunch of hungry jackals on the scent of fresh meat, so Cimarron has holed up at her father-in-law's place. He's some sort of business magnate, lives in a mansion on a private estate surrounded by really high walls and patrolled by his own private security company. Must be nice, having a place like that to retreat to whenever you want to escape from an army of asshole reporters.”
*****
It was still dark out when Lee awoke. She yawned for a minute, then sat up and swung out of bed. Moving to the window, she pulled the drapes aside and looked out. The sky was lightening in the east, promising that dawn would be breaking any minute. She thought about going back to bed, but rejected that idea. There was no way she would be able to get back to sleep, not until she'd seen Will again, at least. She'd slipped downstairs last night after Maya had left and spent some time with him. They'd talked for a while, and he'd been astonished when she told him what she'd found out about her past, how she'd just met her sister. Then a nurse had come in to do something to Will's leg, and she'd had to leave. They had not had nearly enough time together, she thought.
Grabbing the robe and slippers that Maya had run home to get for her, she crossed to the door. The two security guards standing there had introduced themselves to her last night as Frank and Steve. When they saw her, they both smiled, and Frank said, “Good morning, Lee. How are you feeling today?”
“Better, thanks. Uh – I'm going to run downstairs for a few minutes to check on Will, see how he's doing. If my friend Maya shows up while I'm out, would you let her know where I've gone?”
“Sure thing. I'll just walk down with you. Steve here can keep an eye out for your friend.”
He fell into step beside her as she walked down the corridor to the elevator. They rode down to the third floor together, and soon she was outside the door to Will's room.
“I'm just going to peek in on him. If he's asleep, I won't disturb him, but if he's awake, I'll probably be staying for a while.”
“Okay. I'll wait for you out here.”
Will's eyes were closed when she tip-toed in, but he opened them immediately when she approached the bed.
“Hi,” he said huskily.
“Hi. How are you feeling today?”
“Well, yesterday I felt like a truck ran over me, and today I just feel like crap, so I suppose that's an improvement. You?”
“Just a little headache, that's all. They're talking about releasing me later today. I guess I got off easier than you did.”
“I'm not so sure about that. Come here.” In a surprise move, he tugged on her hand and pulled her into the bed with him.
“Will! I can't be in bed with you in the hospital! I'm pretty sure it's against all sorts of rules!”
“Screw the rules. Seriously, what are they going to do to us if they catch us? Drug me and push me over a cliff? Abduct you and chain you to a wall? Oh, wait a minute: been there, done that. So let the hospital staff do their worst.”
“Well, I guess if you put it that way...” She was silent for a moment, then she said, “I've got something to confess to you, Will...I think I'm in love with you.”
“Well, that's a problem.”
Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. Insulted, she tried to get out of the bed, but Will held her tight and said, “Ask me why it's a problem.”
“Okay, I'll bite. Why is it a problem that I think I'm in love with you?”
“It's a problem because you only think you are, when I'm damn sure that I'm in love with you.”
*****
When Ty strolled into the family dining room for breakfast, he discovered that Sloan, Maeve, Brody, Lotti, and Echo had all arrived before him. The only thing surprising about that situation was that Brody was peacefully occupying the same room with Sloan Lewellen. Ty made another mental note to himself, this time to check the news and see if hell had frozen over. Given how the big guy felt about his dad, he'd been hesitant the night before when his mother had proposed extending the invitation of spending the night at Sloan's house to Brody. However, Maeve must have said something, somehow persuaded him to soften his attitude toward Sloan a little. Which was a good thing, Ty mused. It wasn't easy on a guy when he knew that one of his best friend's fondest wishes was to kick his father's ass.
“Morning, everyone.” Passing by Echo in her highchair on his way to where breakfast was laid out on the sideboard, he ran his hand over her silky hair. She looked up at him and grinned, gurgling something unintelligible while stuffing a handful of some sort of weird looking mini-toast into her mouth.
After he'd gotten himself some coffee, filled his plate, and taken a seat at the table next to Brody, Maeve asked, “How's Dawn this morning, Ty?”
“Fine. She's up and dressed, but she needed to make some calls before coming down. She's already talked to her Aunt Mattie and to Lee this morning, and now she's on the phone with Rafe.” He stopped for a moment to take a sip of coffee and eat a couple of strips of bacon. “Man, that's good. Anyway, we're going to the hospital right after breakfast to check on Lee, find out what her plans are after she's discharged.”
He broke off as his wife appeared at the door of the dining room.
“Good morning, Dawn,” Maeve said. “Did you sleep well?”
“God, yes. Better than I have in years.” Making her way to the sideboard, Dawn provided herself with some coffee and toast and then moved to the table and took a seat across from Ty.
After she'd had a chance to drink some of her coffee and take a few bites of her toast, Sloan said, “Ty was just telling us that the first thing on your agenda this morning is to go to the hospital to see your sister. I thought I'd come along with you, if that's okay.”
Dawn nodded. “Fine with me. I was hoping that Maeve could come along as well. Then I could introduce Lee to both of you at the same time.”
“As long as you don't think it will be too overwhelming for her, Dawn,” said Maeve.
“I don't think it will be. She seems to be amazingly resilient. That's one thing that hasn't changed. She was like that even when she was a baby. Nothing much seemed to faze her for long.” She finished off her toast and then frowned. “The bad news is that Chief Wirthing is holding a press conference this morning about both cases and has asked me to be present, say a few words. I'm not real happy about it, but what the Chief wants, the Chief gets.”
“How are you planning on handling it?” Sloan inquired.
Dawn shrugged. “The Chief is going to give a statement that sounds like a big deal, but really only confirms some of the details that the press has already dug out on its own. Then I'm going to tell them that I visited my sister in the hospital last night; yes, she is doing well, and yes, it was a joyful reunion. When they ask me how I feel, I'm going to resist the temptation to point out what a stupid question that is, and reply that I am ecstatic that my sister has been found alive and well after all these years. When they ask me about Vivian Zarafin, I'm going to give them the line about how I can't make any comment about an ongoing case. Then I'm going to tell them that Lee and I need some time to get re-acquainted and ask them to cut us a break and allow us to deal with the personal aspects of this case in the privacy of our family. If they ask if and when Lee is going to make a statement, I'll tell them that Lee doesn't want to talk to anyone but friends and family right now, and to please respect that. Then I'm going to smile and politely refuse to answer any more questions.”
“That's good, that's good, Dawn.” Sloan hesitated for a minute before inquiring, “Mind if I make a suggestion?” When she inclined her head in assent, he said, “Consider satisfying the worst of public curiosity by having a picture taken of you and Lee together at the hospital and releasing it to the media. Once they have that, they might be more inclined to leave you alone for a while. Just a thought.”
Sloan glanced over at Maeve, who gave him a nod. “We've been talking about that. If it's okay with you, we're going to release a statement saying that we are rejoicing with our daughter-in-law now that she has found her sister and that we look forward to welcoming Lee into the family. Then we're also going to make a plea of our own for privacy. And if you do decide to release a picture, it might be a good idea to let us handle that as well. That way, it reinforces that this is a family matter, quite apart from your role as a member of the Mountpelier Police Force. What do you think?”
Dawn turned and said, “Ty?”
“I like it. Dad's right; the public needs to see that we're handling this as a family, and that you and Lee are part of that family. It'll give the plea for privacy a little more impact, a little more punch.”
“Okay, then. If Lee agrees, that's what we'll do.” Drinking the last of her coffee and placing her napkin beside her plate, Dawn pushed back from the table and got to her feet. To Lotti and Brody, she said apologetically, “I just realized that I've barely said a word to either of you. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be rude.”
Lotti smiled and said, “Don't worry about it, Dawn. If anyone has an excuse to be a little preoccupied and skip the social niceties right now, it's you. Go and see your sister. I'll look forward to meeting her, when she's ready to be introduced to the rest of the family.”
Brody added, “Uh – same thing. What she said.”
“We're good, then.” Turning to Ty, she said, “Ready?”
“Yep. Mom and Dad?”
“Just let me run upstairs for a minute or two and get a few things. I'll meet you outside,” Maeve said.
“Thank God that when your mother says she'll only be a minute or two, she means it literally,” Sloan commented. He led the way to the door and into the waiting limo. Maeve joined them almost immediately, and Sloan signaled the driver to head out.