Outside he crossed the street, looking back over at the teahouse. He watched Tommaso talking to Inca, touching her face, kissing her tenderly. Arrogant prick.
“Us’ he thought. Fucker knew exactly what he was doing.
Olly sighed, reminded himself that he had no right to be annoyed or to be jealous, but a knot of tension had lodged itself in his chest. He lit a cigarette, feeling like an intruder as he watched the two of them. His friend. His Inca. He knew he was being petulant.
He coughed and pulling himself together.
She’s not your Inca anymore, buddy.
He winced at the pain the thought caused him. He crushed the remainder of his smoke under his heel and went to work.
Tommaso stayed over at Inca’s apartment and she saw him taking it all in. “I like it,” he said. “It’s very you.”
She smiled and he took her in his arms. “Inca, I need to tell you something. I’ve never been this happy.”
She smiled at him, both touched and nervous. “Tommaso … I love spending time with you. I do, but I don’t know if I’m ready for a serious relationship.”
Tommaso shrugged. “It’s okay. You will be.”
She laughed at his certainty and he grinned and swept her into the bedroom. As he started to strip her, she kissed his neck. “I really do love that dress, Tommaso.”
“I’m glad you decided to keep it,” he said, brushing his lips along her collarbone. “But I prefer what’s underneath it.” He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently, looking up at her as his tongue teased her. Inca shivered with pleasure as he removed her panties and pressed her against the wall of her bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you all night long, Principessa …”
The fact that he was still dressed in his impeccable Armani suit while she was naked was a complete turn-on for Inca. He lifted her easily, then his cock was plunging into her, nailing her to the wall, his hands harsh on her body, his lips rough on hers. He kissed her brutally, so that she tasted blood, and as he fucked her, Inca let herself go, feeling every sensation he was sending through her body. Afterward they moved to the bed and she went on top, thrusting her hips hard onto him, wanting to take him deeper and deeper. He smiled up at her as she rode him, his hands on her breasts, her belly, fingers biting into the soft flesh of her hips.
Inca loved the way Tommaso looked at her. With this man, she felt more sensual, more feminine than she ever had with anyone else.
Afterward, they soaked in her little bathtub together, Inca leaning back on Tommaso’s hard chest. His fingers traced a pattern in soap bubbles on her belly. “Bella, I like this place. It is a shame you have to move.”
“I know,” she sighed, distracted by the feel of his fingers on her skin. “I guess I’ll really have to step up the search for a new place.”
“You know my thoughts.” His lips nuzzled her ear, then moved to her shoulder. Inca smiled, closing her eyes.
“I do.”
They lay in silence for a time. “I don’t think your police chief likes me.”
Inca opened her eyes. “Olly’s harmless. He’s probably doing that man thing you all do.”
Tommaso laughed. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“The ‘marking your territory’ thing. Not that I’m either of your territories, just to remind you.” She felt his laugh rumble through his chest.
“I hear you. Tell him, though.”
“Oh, I will.” She was quiet for a long moment. “Tommaso … there’s something I have to tell you, something that’s going on. It kind of explains why Olly is a little overprotective.”
She told him about the murders and Tommaso listened in shocked silence. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
She sat up and turned to face him. His eyes were troubled. “Because we don’t know if it actually has anything to do with me or it’s just a coincidence. They took some DNA to run against the older women they found in Seattle.” Her breath hitched in her throat at that and he cradled her cheek in his palm.
“Are you okay?”
“I just never considered my birth parents—as far as I’m concerned, Nancy and Tyler are my parents.”
Tommaso nodded, his face serious. “I hope it is not your birthmother, but I do know something about family disharmony. My parents were very unhappy before they divorced. My father is a … difficult man. My mother was an angel.”
Inca smiled. “You’ve never talked about your family before.”
Tommaso laughed softly. “Neither have you.”
Inca realized he was right. “I guess we really don’t know each other that well.”
“I guess not.”
They gazed at each other for a long moment. “I would like to get to know you,” he said softly and leaned in to kiss her.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, Inca suddenly felt optimistic. The man in her arms was gorgeous, funny, and smart. Maybe it was time she told herself it was okay to fall for him.
Tommaso surprised her the following morning as she was opening up the Sakura. The day was surprisingly warm; the snow from the storm was almost gone. Inca had arranged to show Raffaelo around the area today, so she was surprised when Tommaso showed up. Inca grinned when, with him, she saw a huge Labrador Retriever bound out of his car.
The dog immediately went to her, wagging its plummy tail, and Inca hugged it delightedly.
“You got a dog?”
Tommaso grinned. “Technically, you got a dog. Since you won’t let me pay for a security detail, I thought this was the next best thing.”
Inca was touched. “That’s really sweet … God, he’s so beautiful. What’s his name?”
“Boomer. Hey, look, I didn’t choose it. I got him at the pound.”
Inca almost felt like crying. “Tommaso, I don’t know what to say … thank you.”
“I hope it wasn’t presuming too much.”
It was … but Inca didn’t care. She fussed around the dog, making him excited and crazy. She grabbed a bowl of water for him. “Tommaso, he’s lovely; thank you.”
She kissed him as they heard a horn toot outside. “I think my brother is here,” Tommaso said, then looked at Boomer. “Shall I take him for today? Raff isn’t keen on dogs.”
Inca was still smiling as she slid into the passenger seat of Raffaelo’s car. When Raffaelo didn’t start the car, she turned to look at him. He was watching her, his green eyes intense.
“Is there something I should know?”
Inca felt her face burn and looked away. “Not at all. So, where shall we start?”
“I saw another road along here. I’m assuming it leads around the town?”
Inca sighed, relieved. “Yes. It’s the only other—I was going to say highway, but that would be overstating its size.” She laughed and Raffaelo smiled.
“For a small town, it seems bigger than it looks.”
Inca nodded. “It’s because there aren’t many buildings. The population is less than two hundred and fifty people, not counting the pupils at the school. During the semester, the population triples. Good for business.”
They drove in silence for a little while. Inca gazed out of the window at the coast road, its fir-lined cliffs, the steps down to the beach carved into the stone.
“Where does this road go?”
Raffaelo’s question brought her out of her reverie.
“Around to the school. We’ll pass the golf course soon.”
“So, you have a large school and a golf course for a population of two hundred and fifty.”
She laughed. “And you don’t want to know how few of us play golf. Do you?”
“Play golf? No.”
Do you even know how to have fun? Inca thought to herself. She thought back to the nights when she and Olly, Knox, and Scarlett had played board games and gotten drunk together, falling asleep on the couches and chairs in their living rooms, waking in the early hours to cover her friends with blankets. She couldn’t picture Raffaelo sprawled out in an easy chair, a
half-empty beer bottle at his feet as he tried to name all fifty states. She remembered Olly squinting at the ceiling trying desperately to recall Arkansas while she, Knox, and Scarlett heckled him. Inca grinned again and looked at Raffaelo, ramrod straight in his seat, dressed impeccably as always. Inca narrowed her eyes at him, a mischievous grin on her face.
“Raffaelo … what do you do for fun?”
The question seemed to surprise him. “What do you mean?”
“Just that. We’re supposed to be getting to know each other, and I still know nothing about you.”
“And your first question is how do I have fun?”
The tension was back. With a simple question, he’d made her feel frivolous and shallow. Stung, Inca turned away and stared out of the window. After a while, Raffaelo gave a little cough.
“Inca, I feel as if I have … I didn’t mean to offend you. Sometimes I don’t express myself as I would wish. Your question was completely legitimate and I apologize if …” He cleared his throat again. “I read. I watch television; I go to the cinema, the theatre. I don’t play golf but I like to run and sometimes play tennis.” He smiled at her and Inca saw genuine regret in his expression.
She nodded out of the window. “Pull over up here. I want to show you something.”
Raffaelo pulled the car to the side of the road and they got out. Inca led the way down one of the stairways carved into the cliff. Halfway down, she turned into a small opening in the rock. Raffaelo had to bend to walk into the cave. Inca sat down on a rock and he joined her.
“The first time I showed Tommaso around, I showed him this place.”
Raffaelo squinted into the blackness of the cave. “How far does it go back?”
She laughed. “No idea. We did think about investigating, but we were too chicken. Anyway, I wanted to show you this because he wanted to know where I had grown up.”
Raffaelo nodded. He went to stand at the edge of the cave, looking out over the ocean. Inca studied him, still trying to find some familiarity in his personality—he seemed too different from Tommaso.
Raffaelo turned, saw her smiling and took a seat beside her.
“Inca, I …” He stopped, and she noticed with surprise that he seemed nervous. He took a deep breath in. “Inca, I know I can seem … different. I don’t make friends easily. I have always preferred my own company. But I hope that is about to change.”
She returned his smile. “I hope so too. Come on, let’s go down to the beach.”
He followed her down to the beach, watching the way her hips swayed gently and the almost childlike exuberance of her gait when they reached the sand. Inside him, he felt a rare emotion: admiration. He liked this woman, he realized, and that disconcerted him. For once in his life, Raffaelo Winter considered that his relationship with this particular woman could be different. She could be to him what no other woman had ever been.
A friend.
Olly came to see her later. “Still no news on the DNA, I’m afraid.”
He made a fuss of Boomer. “That’s a nice gift, a great idea. Of course, I’d feel better if you got your firearms’ license and bought a gun.”
Inca shook her head. “No way. Not going to happen.”
Olly studied her. “Inca … this is real. Women are dying; young women are being butchered. God help me, I won’t let that happen to you or anyone else I know. But you have to help me out here. Don’t do anything reckless; don’t go out on your own at night.”
Inca gave a hiss of frustration. “Olly, have you any idea what women have to go through every day because a man might kill us? I’m not curtailing my life.”
“Then let’s just hope he doesn’t curtail your life.”
He'd seen her out with her friends, drinking, laughing. Her engagement party. He'd come upon her in her bedroom, trying on her wedding dress. She'd been drinking cheap white wine and twirling in front of the mirror. Princess for the day. Then, as he stepped into her eye-line, the fear.
She hadn't screamed, just a widening of the eyes. He'd picked up her glass, put the tablet in, the cheap Rohypnol from the scrawny dead-eyed dealer in Belltown, made her drink it. The liquid spilling over her lips, she had obeyed, shaking, tears pouring down her face. The horror of it all worked quicker than the drug. She'd passed out. He had lain her gently on the bed waiting. As she stirred, he had gripped the knife firmly and plunged it into her abdomen, his hand clamped across her mouth as she screamed at last. Blood had spattered across the intricate lace.
Turned pink.
Inca was falling asleep in the armchair. She had tried to keep awake for the movie but kept missing huge chunks of it. She hadn’t slept well since Olly’s warning and now she was exhausted. She had settled Boomer into her life and now she sat with the dog on her couch, wondering if she should just close her eyes and sleep.
The credits were rolling when Boomer started barking. He skittered to the front door and scratched at it. Inca, dopey from sleep, didn’t think. She pulled it open and Boomer ran out.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hunter yelled at her.
She was awake then. Hunter strode up to her, his face contorted with anger. Boomer had disappeared. She shook herself.
“Hunter, what…?”
“I could have been anybody. You just open the door?”
She was shocked. Hunter had never even raised his voice to anyone as far she knew, and for certain not to her, but he was red with anger now. He came up to her and grabbed her shoulders.
“Inca, I could have been anybody. Someone who’d want to hurt you. You don’t just open the door like that. Not on your own.”
“Hunter, calm down. I’m sorry; I didn’t think. “
He drew in a deep breath and she was shaken to see tears in his eyes.
“Hunter, I’m sorry. Come in for a minute.”
He looked behind him, scanning the street. He whistled, and Boomer came bounding out of the darkness, his tail wagging. He waited until the dog was in the house before nodding at Inca and stepping through the door. Inca shut the door and locked it to keep Hunter happy. She followed him back to the kitchen.
“Hunter, are you okay?” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer for him. He took it.
“I’m sorry, Inca; I didn’t mean to scare you like that. Thank you for the beer.” He took a long drink. Inca sat down opposite him and waited. He drained the beer and sighed.
“You need to be more careful, is all. There’s bad people around. Pretty girl like you on her own.” He shook his head.
Inca tried not to smile. “You are very sweet, Hunter. But I have Boomer.”
He looked at her in the eye. “Dog ain’t no protection against a knife or a bullet.”
Inca swallowed. He had a point. “Hunter, I know everyone on the peninsula. Who’d come over from the mainland just to … there’s a lot of other people between me and … after all.” She smiled and pointed out the window. “The next land that way is Japan. I’m okay. I promise.”
“Olly would want me to look out for you.”
“I know, and don’t think I don’t appreciate you. I do. You’re my family, Hunter; don’t ever forget that. I’m sorry about earlier. I promise I will be more careful. I’ll keep Boomer in the house and keep the door locked. I won’t answer the door after dark unless I know the person. Is that okay?” Inca got up to get him another beer and to pour herself a glass of milk.
“Not all bad people are strangers.” Hunter muttered and she turned, frowning. Hunter looked away from her, down into his drink. She sat down again.
“Hunter, who are you talking about?”
He didn’t answer, but Inca had already guessed.
“Hunter, are you talking about Tommaso?”
He nodded. She leaned over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it.
“Hunter, why would Tommaso want to hurt me?”
“I don’t trust him.”
Inca gave a frustrated laugh. “Have you been talking to Olly?”
&nbs
p; “Olly’s a good man. Smart guy. I’ve seen him watching you.”
“You’ve seen Olly watching me?”
“No. Him. Tommaso. He watches you. He’s said things.”
“What things, Hunter?”
Hunter flushed, shifted in his chair. He didn’t look her in the eye. “Says he could have you if he wanted you.”
Inca laughed. “Hunter … he and I are seeing each other. He knows it’s not serious.”
Hunter’s voice was small. “I don’t think so.”
Inca didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure you’re wrong, Hunter. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s a nice guy.”
Boomer started barking again and Hunter was up. He yanked the door open, keeping Boomer from running out. He passed the dog to Inca and ran out.
“Keep him in; lock the door. Don’t open it again, even for me.”
Inca did as she was told and went to the window. Hunter’s torch bobbed into the darkness and disappeared. She sat at the kitchen table, waiting for some news or for Hunter to call through the door. Just before midnight, she couldn’t keep her eyes open and crawled into bed. She glanced at her phone just as she saw Hunter text her to say all was well. Inca smiled, hugged Boomer to her, and fell asleep.
At home, Olly showered quickly and dressed. He’d enjoyed his run that morning with the fresh cold Washington air in his lungs. His smile soon faded when the familiar scene of police tape and CSI officers filled the screen. Another murder. This time in her home.
“Jesus Christ.” He tried to think back over the serial killings in the US over the last few years - The Milwaukee North Side Stranglings between ’86 and’04; Anthony Kirkland’s campaign in Cincinnati in the late 00’s; the California Bride Murders in 2014. Something about that last one snagged at something in his memory. He flicked on his laptop and waited for the browser to load. He turned the television up as he waited.
“Victim was stabbed repeatedly in the abdomen and, reports say, disemboweled.”
Olly felt the usual nausea rise in his throat. He tapped Bride Murders in California into the search engine and hit return. A sense of familiarity made the hairs on his neck stand up.
Winter Page 6
