For Your Eyes Only

by Rebecca York

  Ben wanted to drag her inside and have a talk with her. If she wouldn’t accept his protection, then she should go somewhere he knew she’d be safe. But he couldn’t start an argument in front of Kane.

  He sighed. “Okay. Give me a few minutes.” Heavily he went back into the house and upstairs. Every room held a memory of Jenny that stabbed painfully at his heart. They’d used the exercise room together that morning. Then he’d shown her how much fun it was to shower together.

  He looked critically at each location, picking up a towel here, changing a weight setting there. When Kane checked out the house, he didn’t want him figuring out what had been going on for the past two days. The sight of the unmade bed was worse than anything that had come before. He felt like a dagger was twisting in his chest. For a moment he couldn’t move. Then he crossed the room and yanked up the covers, trying to ignore the signs that he and Jenny had been warm and cozy here only a few hours earlier. The box of condoms was still on the bedside table where he’d abandoned it at her request. Stiffly, he shoved the incriminating evidence into the top drawer.

  He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment. Everything he wanted had been within his grasp. So close. Now he might be consigned to hell for the rest of his life.

  He turned one last time to look at the room and spotted the discarded foil wrapper on the floor half under the bed. “Brisco, you’re great at hiding evidence,” he muttered as he wadded it up and shoved it into his pocket. He wanted to linger in the room. Maybe it was the last time he’d ever be here. But he figured Kane would wonder what he was doing.

  Jenny and the officer were still outside, neither one of them saying anything when he came back out. Ben wished he could speak to her alone, but maybe it was better this way. Maybe they did need a cooling off period, since everything he said seemed to drive her farther from him.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, goodbye Ms. Larkin. I’ll keep you up on the status of the investigation.”

  “Thank you.”

  At least she hadn’t told him to have Diangelo call.

  There seemed to be nothing more to say, so he descended the steps and walked smartly to his car, trying to give a good imitation of a detective glad that he’d been released from extra duty.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jenny listened to Ben’s departing footsteps. When the car door opened, she almost called out to him to come back. She almost clattered down the stairs and followed him. Part of her longed to feel his strong arms around her. Part of her longed to weep on his shoulder and listen to his quiet reassurances. But the part of her that had insisted on being self-sufficient for the past twelve years wouldn’t let her give in to the weakness. She hadn’t been lying to him. She was wounded by his failure to tell her some key facts. Maybe she understood his reasons, but she wasn’t going to let him sweep her along on the course he’d set. She had to think things through for herself, or she’d never be sure that she hadn’t been coerced. But that didn’t make sending him away ache any less.

  “Ma’am,” a voice said, startling her. Feeling utterly alone, she’d forgotten someone else was with her, intruding on her privacy.

  She wanted to make Kane go away, too, but she knew that would be foolish. “Yes?”

  “Come inside.”

  There was nothing overtly threatening about the suggestion. Yet under the veneer of politeness there was a current of something in his voice that set her nerves on edge.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stay out here for a little while.”

  His foot scuffed against the boards of the porch. “Not a good idea.”

  She searched for an excuse to keep her distance. “My bird feeders need filling.”

  There was a little pause. “I guess it would be all right for you to do that. But don’t be too long. It’s going to be dark soon.”

  She gave a mirthless laugh. “That doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  “Right,” he replied, sounding embarrassed. “But stay where I can, uh, keep track of you if I look outside.”

  “I will,” she agreed. When she heard the door close, she let out the breath she’d been holding. She’d practically insisted that Ben leave her with this stranger. Now that she had her wish, she felt a gnawing uneasiness. The air seemed to hang heavily around her and she was having trouble breathing.

  She imagined unseen eyes drilling into her and felt her skin prickle. Was someone out there in the woods? Was that the source of her disquiet?

  Standing perfectly still, she took a deep breath of the air. It was sweet. No cigarette smoke. No one was here, she told herself. More than likely, Officer Kane was looking through the window as he’d promised.

  She felt her emotions swing first one way and then the other. She was confused and she’d let herself get dependent on Ben.

  She raised her chin. Deliberately giving Kane something to see, she slowly crossed the deck. But when she reached the edge, she hesitated. She wasn’t a fool. Whoever had tried to kill her was still on the loose. Stopping abruptly, she debated going back into the house. With Kane.

  She didn’t like that option. Yet she didn’t feel safe out here, either.

  BEN DROVE SLOWLY toward his office, trying to come up with a plausible reason to head back to Jenny’s. None came to mind, and his hands clenched around the wheel in frustration. Doggedly, he kept his mind off certain subjects. He’d go crazy if he didn’t think Kane was competent. He’d go just as crazy if he let himself wallow in the mess he’d made with Jenny.

  So he tried to focus on the details of the case. Techno Transfer. World Connect. They were related, but he didn’t have the proof. And what about Cameron Randolph’s revelation that the computer directory had been altered? Was that to hide Marianne Blaisdell’s World Connect files? He sighed.

  He thought about Jenny’s description of the kidnapper. Then the various interviews he’d done—with Helen the waitress at Three Sheets to the Wind, and with Sheryl Dyson, the woman who’d seen the killer dump the body. She’d said he was dressed like a meter reader. Helen had said he liked to play cowboy and biker and factory worker. Were they both really talking about the same man?

  Then Jenny had described her abductor as wearing a knit polo shirt. Pretty prosaic for a guy who liked to dress up all the time. Well, his clothes couldn’t pin him down. And probably the blond hair was a wig while the meter reader’s cap had hidden the real color.

  But height would remain constant. The cowboy was tall, so was the meter reader. But Jenny had said the man who’d thrown her over the bridge was medium height. The same man who had attacked her at Marianne’s. Could the boots have made that much difference or was she mistaken? He was still trying to come up with some defining detail as he pulled into the parking garage.

  JENNY REACHED for the container she used to fill the bird feeders. But instead of opening the can, she stood, listening intently.

  Around her, the wildlife was strangely silent. Usually she could hear the birds hovering in the trees chirping to each other as they waited for her to finish filling the feeders. But they were totally silent, and it came to her with a sudden chill that their absence might be a sign of danger. Because they were hiding from someone else, someone out here.

  Reaching toward the railing, she retrieved her cane. Hoping she looked casual and unconcerned, she turned and started toward the door. She had taken only a few steps when she realized she was hearing heavy footsteps crunching through the dry leaves under the trees.

  If it was Kane, he’d be walking across the deck. These steps were coming from the wrong direction. And it was someone walking on his heels. Dropping the container, she sprinted the final few yards to the house. But he swooped down on her before she reached the door.

  The smell of stale tobacco smoke and sour flesh made her gag. Then a hand clamped over her mouth. It was covered by a thick leather glove so that there was no possibility of biting flesh.

  A scream rose in her throat, but it came out only as a low gurgle through
the barrier of his hand.

  “Not this time,” he growled.

  The tone of his voice was almost enough to shatter her sanity. Somehow she managed to hold herself together. She must stay rational. She must think. Because this time he surely aimed to finish the job he’d started.

  He continued to mutter as he dragged her through leaves and debris. She had nothing to lose by fighting, she thought as she struggled against him, bucking and lashing her body from side to side as he carted her farther from the house— farther from any hope of rescue. Her thrashing didn’t seem to slow him down much. Where were they going? Probably to his car, hidden in the woods.

  She bucked again, this time from terror as she imagined the trunk lid slamming down on her.

  “Cut it out, bitch,” he growled as his hands tightened painfully on her shoulders.

  Ignoring the discomfort, she concentrated her energy into one desperate lunge that wrenched her mouth from his grasp. In that second of freedom, she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

  “Damn you!” His curse was accompanied by a slap across the face that stung all the way to the bone. Then he hoisted her onto his shoulder and started to run.

  Behind them, she thought she heard a door slam, then footsteps thumping across the deck.

  A voice rang out behind them. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  The kidnapper didn’t slacken his pace. “He’s not going to risk a shot when I’m carrying you.”

  But he was wrong. A loud report split the air. It was followed quickly by another. A bullet whizzed past Jenny’s shoulder, millimeters from her flesh. The man carrying her cried out and began to stagger, listing precariously to the right. Another shot sounded, and he yelped in pain.

  Then he dropped her heavily to the ground. The breath was knocked out of her, and all she could do was lie there and fight for breath. Feet pounded past her. More shots split the air. Then everything was quiet as a tomb.

  “Please. Tell me what’s happening,” she begged, struggling to a sitting position. As her hands flailed in the air, they slapped against tree trunks. Crawling through fallen leaves, she propped herself up.

  “Please…what’s happening?” she repeated.

  After an eternity, Officer Kane answered her. “I’m checking him out.”

  She managed a muffled reply. Then, numbly she waited until footsteps came slowly back toward her. It was Kane. It had to be Kane. Yet she still cringed away from the unseen man.

  “He won’t hurt you again,” the officer announced. “I got him.”

  Jenny let out a long shuddering sigh, torn between relief and a growing apprehension. “You could have shot me.”

  “If you could have seen what was happening, you’d know you weren’t in any danger,” he clipped out.

  When he came down beside her on the ground, she tried not to cringe. Kane had fired at the kidnapper’s back. At least that was what she thought. But, of course, she could be wrong. And wrong about the bullets whizzing past her so close that she could feel the breeze. Maybe she was too strung out to know what had transpired. Certainly, she wasn’t going to start questioning Kane’s judgment—at least, not while they were alone.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she managed.

  “Good. Stay put while I call in a report.”

  Panic surged through her. She couldn’t stay here. Not when she had no idea where the dead man was lying. “No. Don’t leave me.”

  He hesitated for a moment. “Okay.”

  Hooking his hand under her elbow, he helped her to her feet. She hated hanging on to him but her legs were too unsteady to be reliable. It was a relief to feel the paving of the path, then the deck. He led her to one of the Adirondack chairs, and gratefully, she sank into its familiar contours.

  “He’s the one?” she asked. “The one who killed my friend Marianne?”

  Seconds ticked by before Kane answered. “It appears so.”

  “Thank God.”

  “The name on his driver’s license is Jack Colmers. Does the name ring a bell?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  As he headed for the house, she made one further request.

  “Please call Detective Brisco.”

  “As soon as I report in to my unit.”

  The rubber soles of his shoes crossed the wooden boards. Then the door closed behind him, and she was left sitting in the chair, her teeth chattering.

  She was chilled to the bone, and not just from the cooling air. She’d almost gotten killed, and she knew she would never be truly warm again until she felt Ben’s arms around her.

  God, she’d been a fool to send him away. For the second time when she’d been afraid she would die, the worst part was the knowledge that she would never see the man she loved again. Never feel his arms around her or his lips on hers. Never bear the child they both wanted. And never have a chance to give him everything he deserved. Her eyes filled with tears. She needed to tell him how much she loved him. She needed to tell him she understood what she’d almost thrown away.

  It was several minutes before Officer Kane came out of the house. Ducking her head, she swiped her hand across her eyes.

  “The crime scene men will be here soon. Meanwhile, Detective Brisco wants me to bring you downtown.”

  Relief surged through her. In the back of her mind she’d been afraid that Ben wouldn’t want to see her.

  “I brought you a glass of water,” Kane said.

  “Thanks.” She reached out gratefully, and he pressed the tumbler against her fingers.

  While she drank, she heard him take a nearby chair.

  “Feel better?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She balanced the glass on the chair arm.

  “I know that was rough on you.”

  She nodded. She didn’t really want to talk to this man, but he had saved her life. “I didn’t thank you,” she said.

  “No need. I was only doing my job.” She caught an odd note in his voice but before she could analyze it, he asked another question.

  “So Marianne Blaisdell was your friend?”

  “Yes. Didn’t your department fill you in?”

  “I’m a uniformed officer, so I only got part of the picture. I was told Colmers was stalking you. Now it’s over.” he said smoothly.

  “Thank God.”

  “But there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

  Her head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

  “You look troubled. Like you’ve got a secret that’s weighing you down.”

  “I—” She stopped, struck by his choice of words. They sent her mind reeling. Yes, she’d had a secret for twelve years. Her part in Craig’s death—which she’d kept from everyone, even her close friends like Erin and Elizabeth. But Ben already knew, and he’d made her face it. She’d barely listened while Ben was talking, but somehow his words had sunk in. Now she was starting to see the whole pattern of her life since that night in a different light. All these years she’d felt guilty. All these years she’d made herself pay for her mistake by limiting her associations with people—with men, in particular. But if there had ever been a payment to make, she’d discharged it in full, and she could stop beating herself up.

  “What are you thinking?” Kane prompted.

  “Pardon?”

  “You look like you’re bursting to tell me the secrets of the universe.”

  “Well, it’s not quite that profound.”

  “Oh?”

  She gave a little cough. “I, uh, it’s something I need to tell Ben.”

  “Ben. You know him pretty well, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like to hear, too. I’m a specialist in secrets. Like a therapist. Secrets are poison that seeps into the soul.”

  His tone might be smooth and persuasive, but it raised goose bumps on her arms. She didn’t want to confide in him. The way he was pressing her only made her long to get away from him as quickly
as possible. She cleared her throat. “Don’t take this wrong. But I don’t think I know you well enough. And I need to get downtown.”

  He didn’t move from his chair.

  “I knew a man whose grandmother forced him to keep a shameful secret,” he said suddenly. “See, his mother was a bad girl who got pregnant and went away to have the baby. Then the family moved to a neighborhood where nobody knew them, and they all lived together. Only the big secret was that the girl who was supposed to be his sister was really his mother. And the woman who was supposed to be his mother was really his grandmother. He told me all about it.”

  Jenny nodded, not paying all that much attention to what he was saying because she was too caught up in her own problems. “It helps some people to talk about their lives,” she murmured as she stroked her finger along the edge of the chair. She’d never been one of them. But now she needed to talk to Ben.

  “That would mess a kid up pretty good, don’t you think? Especially if his grandmother hated him and made his life hell. Because his mother was stupid enough to get pregnant with him.”

  “Uh…yes,” she answered, trying to cut the conversation short by not showing much interest.

  “I can see you’re in a hurry.”

  He sounded piqued. Why should he be annoyed that she didn’t want to confide in him? After all, he was practically a stranger. Did he get some sort of pleasure from prying confessions out of people? “Let me get my purse,” she said. “And my cane.”

  “I took the liberty of bringing the purse,” he answered. “Your cane is on the ground where you dropped it. I’ll get it.”

  She waited nervously, thinking about his preoccupation with secrets. He was strange. The prospect of riding downtown with him wasn’t very appealing. She considered waiting for someone else to arrive—until she remembered there was a body lying on the ground.

  As they started toward the cruiser, his words echoed in her head. Secrets are poison that seeps into the soul. She knew she’d heard that before. But where?

  She was still trying to remember as Kane opened the door for her and she slipped into the passenger seat of the police car. He didn’t immediately open the other door, and she wondered what he was doing.