Only by Your Touch

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Only by Your Touch Page 22

by Catherine Anderson


  “I won’t hold your hand. I’d just like to be in the parking lot.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want him to catch you alone.”

  “He won’t. At least one dispatcher is on duty at all times. Besides.” She flapped her hand. “It’s not as if he’s dangerous or anything.”

  Oh, yes, very dangerous. Only Ben had no proof to convince her of that. “He damned near ripped your blouse off last night.”

  “But he did stop.”

  “You said he waited along State Rec Road for you. If you hadn’t run into the woods to evade him, do you think he would have stopped a second time?”

  Shadows darkened her eyes. “It’s a different set of circumstances in town, with people all around. I’m not worried that he’ll bother me.”

  “So why did you have his blood on your chest?”

  She blinked and scratched under one eye. “Oh, well, that.”

  “Yes, that. Why was he bleeding?”

  “Because I bopped him a good one on the nose.”

  Ben relaxed marginally. Maybe, he decided, those self-defense lessons had saved her bacon, after all. Nevertheless he was worried about her going near Bobby Lee again. She was a slightly built woman. Any man could knock her ass over teakettle with one punch, and Ben had a very bad feeling that Bobby Lee wouldn’t hesitate.

  “I have errands I need to run in town. Just a couple. I could swing you by there, and then—”

  “No.” She said it softly, but the word rang with decisiveness. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t lean on anyone. I’ll handle my own affairs.”

  Ben studied her face. He’d realized last night that he was falling in love with her. Feeling afraid for her had given him that final push over the edge. If anything happened to her, he didn’t know what he’d do. “Why don’t you lean on anyone?”

  “Because just about the time you grow to count on the support, it isn’t there anymore.”

  She moved toward him. Ben could see that their conversation was over. He was trying to decide if he should let her pass or stand his ground until they settled this to his satisfaction when he heard the front door crash open.

  “Ben!” his mother shrieked. “Ben?”

  Chloe followed Ben back up the hall, her running feet slapping the tile twice for every stride he took. An instant later, they entered the kitchen to see Nan standing by the work island. Her short hair was in wild disarray, her blue eyes gigantic in her pale face. She stumbled over to her son, made frantic fists on his shirt, and rested her forehead against his chest. Ben curled his arms around her trembling torso.

  “Mom? What’s wrong?”

  “A dead body!” she cried. “I just saw a man burying a body on the hill above the log deck!”

  Ben cupped a hand over the back of her head. “Ah, now.”

  “No, no! I didn’t imagine it, I swear. I really, really saw it happening! A body, Ben. Right here, on our land!”

  Ben met Chloe’s gaze and waggled his eyebrows. By the gesture, Chloe knew he was trying to tell her not to take this seriously. Chloe understood. The older woman wasn’t always in touch with reality. Nevertheless, she was very convincing now.

  Speaking in soothing tones, Ben pressed his mother onto a chair, fetched her a glass of water, and then stepped to a cupboard. Chloe watched as he withdrew a hypodermic needle, sterilized a cool vial of medication, and expertly filled the syringe. “Here, Mama,” he said gently. “This will make you feel better.” He drew up her sleeve to dab at her upper arm with a cotton ball. “A fast prick. Hold still, okay?”

  “No!” Nan cried, attempting to pull away. “That’ll put me to sleep! I don’t—”

  Ben firmly grasped her arm to hold her and expertly administered the injection. Afterwards he capped the needle, put it on the table, and crouched to curl an arm around her. “If it makes you sleepy, that’s okay. I’m here to handle everything.”

  Nan shook her head. She looked imploringly at Chloe. “You have to listen!” she cried. “I saw a man burying a dead body!”

  When Nan had calmed down enough to talk, Ben asked her questions. Nan shakily repeated the story, giving specifics. The man burying the body had been tall and dark. “He was wearing a baseball cap, an Oregon Ducks sweatshirt, and sunglasses,” she said, her words growing slightly slurred. “The same kind of glasses your father used to wear.” She grabbed a quivering breath. “Diablo—oh, God. He tried to go up there. I grabbed his collar, but it was all I could do to hold him back. I hid with him behind the logs. I was so afraid he might bark. I know he doesn’t usually, but he was so upset I was afraid he might. What if that man saw us?

  “Finally, he went back up the hill to bury some other stuff—a pack of some sort, I think—you know, the kind hikers use. While he was up there working, I tightened my hold on Diablo’s collar and ran.” Nan threw a frightened look at Chloe. “I just pray he didn’t see me. I’m a witness. What if he decides to shut me up?”

  Ben kissed his mom’s forehead. Imagined or not, the incident had frightened her badly. He tried to massage the tension from her shoulders. “He can’t hurt you now. I’ll keep you safe.”

  “I’m not lying, Ben. I swear I’m not. You need to call the police. The log deck isn’t that far away, a quarter mile at most. If he saw me, he’s liable to come up here.”

  Too much late-night television, Ben thought. This story had all the plot elements of an old Hitchcock thriller. Jeremy hugged his puppy protectively to his chest and glanced fearfully at the windows. Ben gestured subtly at the child, cluing Chloe that she needed to do some damage control. She crouched beside her son, whispered something in his ear, and a moment later, Jeremy carried his puppy from the kitchen.

  Chloe gazed after the boy until he was safely out of earshot on the front deck. Then she came to put an arm around Nan’s frail shoulders. “It’ll be okay,” she said soothingly. “Let Ben go check it out.”

  Nan shook her head. “No, no, no. He could get hurt. That awful man. He’s killed once. What’s to stop him from doing it again?” Nan pressed a hand over her heart. “We should just let the police handle it.”

  Ben patted his mom’s arm. “I’m not stupid, Mama. I’ll be very careful.” He winked at Chloe over the top of her head. “Rest assured, if I see a fresh grave up there, or anything that looks the least bit suspicious, I’ll call the cops.”

  When Ben left the house a few minutes later, Chloe sat at the table and held Nan’s hands. The injection had done its job, and Nan’s fingers felt limp. She stared blankly at nothing. Her pupils had grown dilated, and the light had gone out in her expressive blue eyes. Chloe sighed and trailed her thumbs over the protruding veins just below Nan’s wrists. Ben wouldn’t be gone long, she knew. He would take an obligatory drive up to the log deck, scan the hillside, and then come back to tell his mother that he’d seen nothing.

  There was, after all, nothing up there to see. It had all been a product of Nan’s confused mind.

  “Chloe?” Nan managed to focus on Chloe’s face. Speaking slowly, as if her tongue had gone thick, she said, “Will you do something for me?”

  “Of course,” Chloe replied. “Just name it.”

  “Call the sheriff’s department for me. Please? Ben doesn’t believe my story, but I swear to you, I’m not lying. We have to report this.”

  After thinking over Nan’s request, Chloe nodded and stood. “Sure. I can do that for you.” Everyone at the department knew of Nan’s illness and wouldn’t take the call seriously. “I’ll even speak directly to the sheriff. How’s that?”

  Nan closed her eyes and smiled shakily. “Thank you, Chloe. I’ll rest easier, knowing it’s been reported.”

  Stepping over to the desk, Chloe dialed the number, waited for an answer, and then asked to be put through to Sheriff Lang. He listened quietly to what Chloe said. Then he replied, “Having a bad day, is she?”

  Chloe kept her back to Nan. “Yes, and she’s terribly upset.”

  “Y
ou tell her I’ll have it checked out. That should calm the poor thing down. A murderer burying a body, huh?” Lang chuckled. “Sounds like the plot of a movie I watched a few nights ago. Maybe she watched the same one. Or maybe she’s seen that boy of hers, up to no good.”

  Chloe’s hand clenched on the phone. She yearned to set Sheriff Lang straight on that score, but because Nan was listening, she chose to let it pass. “How soon can you come out to have a look, Sheriff?”

  “Sometime before Christmas if I find a moment when I’ve got nothing better to do,” the lawman said with a chuckle. “Tell her I’ll be out in thirty minutes, and that I’ll call if I find anything. That should ease her mind.”

  Chloe related the message to Nan when she hung up the phone.

  “Oh, good,” Nan said drowsily. She pushed up from her chair, blinked, and then yawned hugely. “I need to lie down. Will you wake me when he calls?”

  As Chloe expected, Ben returned quickly. He entered the kitchen to find her and Jeremy sitting at the table. “I finished with the animals,” Chloe explained, “but I thought I’d better stay until you showed up.” She quickly related her conversation with the sheriff. “Your mom felt better, thinking it was reported.”

  Ben’s mouth tightened. “The last thing I need is for Sheriff Lang to come up here, snooping around.”

  “He won’t bother. Trust me on that. He knows your mother is ill.”

  The tension went out of his shoulders. “Is she asleep?”

  Chloe nodded. “That shot must have been a doozie. Did you see anything up by the log deck?”

  He shook his head. “Not that I got out and really looked. She does this sometimes. When I tried to take her to Pineville to see a specialist three months ago, she saw aliens with laser guns all along the highway. She got so hysterical, I had to bring her home and sedate her.”

  “Maybe next time you should sedate her before you leave.”

  “There’s a thought.” He shrugged and passed a hand over his eyes. “It’s probably just as well I don’t take her to anyone else. She’s comfortable with her doctor here in Jack Pine. I don’t have much faith in him, but all and all, she’s done amazingly well under his care. It’s going on five years now since Karen first called to tell me Mom was acting funny. In the three years since Dad died and I came back to care for her, I really can’t say she’s grown worse. Most Alzheimer’s patients do, and rather quickly, I think. Her doctor must be doing something right.”

  It made Chloe sad to think of Nan growing more demented and irrational. In her lucid moments, she was such a lovely person, warm and caring. “Some people are luckier than others. The old man who lives next to my folks was diagnosed about ten years ago, and he’s still doing pretty well. He drives my dad crazy sometimes. One morning, Daddy found him in their garage calling his cat. Tinkerbell has been dead for fifteen years.”

  Ben smiled and sank onto a chair. “Maybe my mom is one of the lucky ones, and she’ll be driving me crazy for a long time to come.”

  Chloe nodded. “I felt so bad for her, Ben. Real or not, she genuinely believes she saw a body.”

  “I know.” Ben sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe it’s good that she heard you call the sheriff. It will probably bewilder her when he doesn’t call back, but at least she’ll know it was reported and be able to put it to rest after a few days.”

  “She’ll sleep most of the day now,” Chloe pointed out. “Maybe when she wakes up, she’ll have forgotten all about it.”

  “Maybe so.”

  The shovel made a loud clattering sound when Bobby Lee threw it in the back of his pickup, the dirt-encrusted blade thumping over the ridged bed before it struck the back of the cab and stopped. The thunderous sound made the deputy’s nerves leap, and he cursed vilely, slapping the dust from his clothes and spitting debris from his mouth. Close call. Ben had almost caught him in the act. All that had saved Bobby Lee from being seen was a headlong dive into a wash, overgrown with scrub brush.

  The batty old woman had seen him and gone running home to tell the tale, he guessed. Bobby Lee wasn’t overly concerned. Nan Longtree was certifiably nuts. Who was going to listen to her wild ranting? Not even her son, judging by the quick turnaround Ben had made by the log deck. If he’d just climbed from his truck and walked the hillside, he might have stumbled upon the freshly turned earth behind that cluster of manzanita.

  His pulse still hammering, Bobby Lee strode to the front of his old pickup, which he always took from his garage for these forays. The county vehicle he usually drove was white and would be too easily spotted. The dusty brown Chevy blended in with the terrain, greatly reducing the chance that Bobby Lee might be seen, or even worse, identified.

  He threw open the driver’s door to grab his .22. A little target practice would soothe him. The results, several more wounded critters, would also keep Ben distracted. Under no circumstances did Bobby Lee want the bastard up here, sniffing around. The evidence that he’d just buried on the hillside would be found eventually, but only when Bobby Lee decided the time was right.

  He smiled to himself, eagerly anticipating the moment when he could watch Ben being hauled away to the hoosegow in handcuffs. He would go to prison for murder this time, and Bobby Lee would finally have his revenge. On that fine day, he hoped the smoke in hell cleared away long enough for Hap Longtree to look down and see what was happening. So much for the grand family name the bastard had gone to such lengths to protect—and so much for the prissy younger son he’d chosen to acknowledge.

  Every dog had its day, and Bobby Lee would finally have his.

  Chapter Sixteen

  While at the sheriff’s department to empty her desk that afternoon, Chloe stepped into Lang’s rear office to have a quick word with him. The sheriff kicked back in his chair and frowned. “If you’re here to report another body, my sense of humor has worn thin. I just got the word that you’re quitting.”

  Chloe laid her letter of resignation on the desk. “Yes.” As briefly as possible, she related to him the events of the prior evening. “I’m not here to file a formal complaint. Bobby Lee was drunk, and if this is his first offense, perhaps it’ll never happen again. I did want you to be aware of my reason for quitting, though, just in case another female employee should encounter difficulties with him in the future.”

  “You’re accusing one of my best deputies of attempted rape?”

  “And sexual harassment, if that’s the appropriate term when a woman’s superior threatens her with her job when she refuses to have sex with him after a friendly dinner date.”

  Lang’s cheek muscle started to throb. “That’s a very serious accusation.”

  “Yes. His behavior was despicable.”

  “It’s difficult for me to swallow. I’ve known the man for twenty years.”

  Chloe lifted her hands. “Believe me, don’t believe me. I’ve done my duty. You’ve been made aware. If one of my successors comes to you with a grievance, perhaps you’ll be able to swallow it then.”

  Chloe wasn’t about to leave Jeremy sitting in the car while she debated the issue. She turned, left the inner office, and collected her box of desk items. She left the Japanese lantern sitting there. Let Bobby Lee decipher that in any way he pleased, but she wanted nothing even remotely connected to him.

  After leaving the department, Chloe drove to the nearby Dairy Queen to get Jeremy a cone. As she was pulling away from the drive up, she glimpsed a HELP WANTED sign in the window of the Christmas Village. She stepped on the brake. Why not? The pay probably sucked, but it couldn’t hurt to check it out.

  Chloe wondered if her eyes were as wide as Jeremy’s when they entered the store. It was a huge place, and every inch was a Christmas wonderland. Chloe had avoided coming in here until now because she’d been afraid she might spend money. Now she knew her instincts had been sound.

  “Can I help you find something?”

  Holding Jeremy’s hand for fear he might break something, Chloe turned to f
ind the proprietress standing behind her. She was an elderly woman with rosy cheeks, merry blue eyes, and hair the delicate lavender of lilac blossoms. She wore a blue jersey dress and clunky black shoes.

  Jeremy tugged on Chloe’s hand. “Is she Mrs. Santa Claus?”

  The elderly woman smiled. “No, sweetie.” She leaned down to look him directly in the eye. “I do happen to be one of Santa’s full-time helpers, though.”

  “You are?” Jeremy asked in an awestruck voice.

  “Wow!”

  “I’m Mrs. Perkins.” She thrust out an arthritic hand. “And you are?”

  “Jeremy.” The child wiggled free from Chloe’s grip to shake hands. “Have you met Santa? The real one, I mean? Not the fake one at the mall.”

  Mrs. Perkins laughed. “Oh, my, yes. I see Santa nearly every day.” She patted the child’s head. “It never hurts to have an inside track to Santa, does it?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Mrs. Perkins clearly liked Jeremy’s manners. She smiled warmly at Chloe. “Were you looking for something special, dear?”

  “Well, yes, Mrs. Perkins, I—”

  “Hattie.”

  Chloe shook hands with her. “Chloe Evans. I just noticed the sign in your window—about needing help? I wanted to inquire about the job.”

  “Oh! My goodness! You’re my first applicant.” Hattie pressed a hand to her throat. “Do you like what you see?”

  Chloe thought it was a strange question to ask a prospective employee. “Well, yes.” She looked around the shop again. “It’s magical.” She felt silly the moment she spoke. “I mean—well, you know—like wishes that came true.”

  Hattie nodded and smiled. “That was exactly my aim.”

  Chloe hated to be rude, so she bit her tongue to keep from asking what the hourly wage might be. She doubted it would come close to what she’d been making—and the chance that Mrs. Perkins offered benefits was almost zilch.

  “Let me show you around,” Hattie said.

 

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