“I don’t suppose you got a good look at the driver?” Logan turned his attention to Darius.
“No. He was in the car and driving away before I got to the house.”
“I’ll put a call in to the motor vehicle administration and see how many new Toyotas are registered in the area.”
“There could be thousands, and what’s to say the guy doesn’t live outside the area? How do we know he wasn’t driving a stolen car?” Darius took a sip of coffee, his gaze on Logan, but Catherine had the distinct feeling that he was very aware of her.
Maybe that was because she was very aware of him.
His masculine scent, his warmth, the solid strength of his arm and thigh pressed close to hers.
Too close.
She shoved away from the table, the chair scraping against the floor as she stood.
“Going somewhere, Cat?” Darius asked, grabbing her hand and holding her still.
“I need some fresh air.”
“You’re going to have to wait for it. I can’t escort you outside until we’re finished with the interview.”
“I don’t need—” She was going to say “an escort,” but there’d been two attempts on her life in the past twenty-four hours.
Obviously, she did need an escort.
Just not an escort named Darius.
“We won’t be much longer,” Logan offered with a smile, and she knew both men expected her to take her seat again.
She walked across the room, staring out the window over the sink. The moon had already sunk beneath distant mountains, its greenish glow haloing shadowy peaks. She wanted to go back to Eileen’s place, get in the old Buick and drive until the mountains were behind her, the moon ahead of her, drive until all she had were fresh opportunities and new beginnings.
“Catherine, if you’re not up to continuing, we can finish the interview tomorrow.” Logan spoke into the sudden silence, and she thought about taking him up on the offer. Unfortunately, putting off the interview wouldn’t make the danger that stalked her go away. It wouldn’t change the fact that Eileen was ill and that Catherine was tied to Pine Bluff for however long it took for Eileen to be healed or to...
She cut the thought short.
She’d stay in Pine Bluff for the rest of her life if it meant having Eileen around.
“Now is fine.”
“Do you have any enemies?”
“Maybe you should ask the people in Pine Bluff that.” She turned, leaning her hip against the counter, her words directed at Logan, but her gaze caught and held by Darius.
He watched with an intensity that made her squirm, his light green eyes glowing in his deeply tan face.
He’d been injured terribly, but he didn’t show it. Not in the way he moved or the way he acted. If there were real heroes in the world, he might just be one of them.
He quirked an eyebrow in question, and she blushed, looking away.
“Was there anyone in prison that you might have made an enemy of? Maybe an inmate who took a disliking to you?” Logan continued.
“I didn’t spend much time with the general population.” There’d been death threats made against her before she even entered the prison system. Catherine had been placed in isolation to protect her from inmates who wanted to punish her for preying on the elderly.
“Right. I’d forgotten about that.” Logan scribbled something in a small notebook.
“What are you writing?”
“Just notes so I can type up the report. Is there anyone you’ve run into since your release that stands out as a potential threat?”
“No.” She spent most of her time working on the house and taking care of Eileen. The few times she went to town, she avoided people as much as possible, terrified she’d run into an old school friend or, worse, Peter.
“You’re sure?”
“I don’t think I’ve spoken more than five words to any one person in the past two months. I work on the house, I take care of Eileen. That’s my life.”
“We’ll have to keep digging, then. I’m just not buying the idea that someone in town is trying to kill you because he thinks you’re a murderer. We’ve already contacted several of the victims’ families. The only thing we’ve gotten are apologies for your wrongful convictions.”
“My conviction was nothing to do with the families.”
“It did have something to do with Sharon Mackey. She testified against you and accused you of manipulating her grandmother into changing her will.”
True, but Sharon’s accusation had been a drop in the bucket. There’d been plenty of other people testifying, plenty of circumstantial evidence. “Sharon got her money. I’m sure she’s off living the high life somewhere and hasn’t thought of me in years.”
“We haven’t been able to track her down yet, but if I remember correctly—”
“She attacked me at the trial, but I think that was more a show for the news crews than real anger.” Catherine had been in handcuffs when Sharon spit in her face and slapped her. As attacks went it hadn’t been much, but talking about it rehashed the feeling of helpless humiliation that had plagued Catherine for years.
She shook it off, wishing she could walk away, retreat into the quiet world she’d been living in for the past couple of months.
“She did attack you, though. Once we figure out where she is, we’ll know if she has any continued resentment regarding her grandmother. Was there anyone else at the trial or after it who made threats against you?”
“No.”
“All right. I guess we’re done, then.” Logan stood, his dark hair ruffled, his uniform a little wrinkled. He looked like he’d barely slept, the dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin evidence of long nights. Catherine’s heart stirred, the warm feelings she’d once had for him bubbling up.
They’d been friends a lifetime ago.
She didn’t plan to revisit that relationship. She didn’t want any connections with Pine Bluff once she left. Still, she’d never been able to turn away from someone she cared about. That had been her undoing five years ago, and it would probably prove to be her undoing again.
“Are you okay, Logan? You look tired.” Her hand hovered over his arm, but she didn’t touch his sleeve or him.
“So do you, Catherine. I guess it’s been a long few years for both of us. I’ll be fine. You and Eileen will be, too. I plan to make sure of that. I’m heading back to your place. I’ll call when we’re finished there, and then come escort you and Eileen home.”
“I’ll give them a ride back, Randal. That’ll save you some effort. You have my number, right?” Darius spoke up, and Catherine didn’t have the energy to protest. She didn’t really care enough to protest. It didn’t matter who gave them a ride home as long as they got there.
“Sounds good. Thanks, Osborne. I’ll see myself out.” Seconds later, Logan was gone, the front door opening and closing.
“So, tell me about Sharon Mackey.” Darius topped off her coffee cup without asking.
She met his clear green eyes, felt her heart do a crazy little dance and realized she’d made a big mistake.
Who they got a ride home with did matter.
Logan was an old friend.
Darius?
He was dangerous.
Too late to do anything about it now.
She was stuck.
“What do you want to know?” she asked, looking down into her cup, and trying desperately to
believe that the little shimmy she felt in her heart was nothing more than the last vestiges of her fear.
SEVEN
Squeezing blood from a turnip would be easier than getting information out of Catherine, but Darius didn’t plan to stop trying.
“Did you have any contact with Sharon after you went to jail?” he asked as she stared into her coffee cup, her knuckles white against the blue mug. Her fingers were long and graceful, her nails chipped and short. Pretty and capable-looking hands. He imagined they were well suited to the job she’d been doing before she’d gone to jail, and he wondered if she planned to go back to nursing.
He also wondered what it would be like to smooth the tension from her fingers, press his lips to her knuckles, her wrist, her...
He pulled his thoughts up short.
“No.”
“How about any other family members of victims?” he asked, and she finally met his eyes, a spark of fire in her gaze.
“I’ve just been interviewed, Darius. There’s no need to interview me again.”
“Is there some reason why you don’t want to answer my questions?”
“Last time I answered a bunch of questions, I was charged with eleven counts of murder.”
“The only one in danger of being charged with anything is the guy who attacked you and planted the bomb.”
“Five years ago, I thought the only person in danger of being charged with murdering my patients was the person who did it. We both know how well that worked out for me,” she responded, a tinge of bitterness in her words.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d be bitter, too.
“That was then. This is now.”
“History has a way of repeating itself, Darius. Who’s to say it won’t this time? The way I see it, the fewer questions I answer, the less likely it is I’ll incriminate myself.” She moved across the room, the coffee cup still clutched in her hand.
“There’s one thing you’re forgetting, Cat. I’m not the police.” He turned her so they were facing each other, took the cup from her hands and set it on the counter.
“Trust me. I’m not forgetting it.” Her cheeks heated, and she looked away.
“So, let me help you. Tell me what you know, and I’ll dig around, see if there’s anyone who might still be holding a grudge. My boss has a good friend who owns a P.I. firm. They’re good at what they do. Really good. Give me the word, and I’ll put them on the case.”
“Give me the company name, and I’ll put them on it myself.”
“Information Unlimited. The owner is Kane Dougherty. He’s local. I’ll get you his contact information as soon as it’s early enough for me to call Ryder without being killed for calling too early.”
“Thanks. I’d call him myself, but...it’s hard.” She brushed a loose thread from her cutoffs, her cheeks pink.
“What’s hard?”
“Talking to people. Connecting. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to make idle chitchat or search for the right words to say. It all feels...awkward.”
“It’ll come back to you, eventually. You just have to give it time.”
“You say that with such confidence, Darius, but you can’t know it. Besides, I’m not sure if I want it to come back. I like my life the way it is.”
“What way is that?”
“No connections or commitments.”
“You’re connected to Eileen.”
“That’s different. She raised me. Once she’s gone...”
“You’ll crave what you don’t have. Trust me on that.” He knew all too well how empty life could be without family. He’d spent the past eighteen years without it. Had thought he’d build it with Melody, but that hadn’t panned out.
“Maybe, but even if I crave connection, I’m not going to look for it here. Pine Bluff is too full of memories. Too full of people who...”
“What?”
“It’s amazing how quickly friends can turn to enemies when times get tough. When I needed them most, the people who supposedly cared about me proved they didn’t.”
“So, if you’re not going to stick around Pine Bluff, where will you go?”
“Somewhere no one knows me. Hopefully, that won’t happen for a while, though. Eileen won’t leave town. I tried to talk her into it, but she wants to stay at home.”
“You’re good to her.”
“How could I not be? She raised me after my parents died. I don’t have many memories of them. Eileen is the only parent that I’ve ever known.”
“You’re fortunate to have had her. Not every kid is so blessed.”
“I know. You’re right. Twenty-seven years is more than a lot of people get,” she responded, studying his face.
What did she see?
Surely not the secrets he’d held close for so many years.
Not the fear or the confusion or the anger that he’d felt when his mother had died and he’d been thrown into the foster-care system. A fourteen-year-old boy whom no one wanted.
“You’re right about that.”
“I’m sorry, Darius.”
“For what?”
“I wish you’d had an Eileen in your life. Someone who picked up the pieces after your mother passed away.” She touched his wrist, her fingertips warm and silky. Heat shot through him at the contact, searing a path straight to his heart.
Catherine must have felt it, too.
Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, bumping into the counter. “I need to go check on Eileen.”
She ran from the room, her rapid footfall echoing through the house as she escaped.
It took everything in Darius not to follow.
She was safe. No threat could get to her inside his house.
He wanted to follow anyway.
She made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years, and he wasn’t sure he could ignore it.
Wasn’t sure he had any choice but to do so.
Catherine had made her feelings clear. She wanted nothing to do with Pine Bluff or the people in it. Darius wanted everything to do with both. He craved connection the way others craved food. Friendship was his fix, his addiction, and he cared about his friends as if they were family.
Because for him, they were.
It could have been different. Should have been different.
He refilled his coffee, took a sip of the bitter brew. It had been years since he’d spent much time thinking about Melody. Her betrayal had hurt deeply, because he’d expected that she’d become the family he’d longed for. He couldn’t say she’d been the great love of his life, but she’d made him dream of a future filled with commitment and connection.
“Darius?” Catherine reappeared, her face paper-white, her lips leached of color. “Eileen won’t wake up. We need to call for an ambulance.”
“Is she breathing?” He grabbed the phone, dialed 911.
“Yes, but her respirations are quick and shallow. Pulse thready and weak.” She relayed the information as he spoke to the 911 operator, then left the room.
He followed, crossing the guest room and touching Eileen’s cool, dry cheek. She looked bad, her face sunken, her skin yellowed. “The ambulance will be here soon.”
“I just hope it’s soon enough.” She lifted Eileen’s wrist, checked her pulse again, gently shook her shoulder, calling her name.
Eileen didn’t respond.
Not good.
“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.
“Just
open the door and lead the EMTs back here when they arrive.” She touched Eileen’s forehead, her hand shaking.
Darius grabbed it, squeezing gently. “She’s going to be okay.”
“She’s dying, Darius. That’s not okay. It’s not even close to okay.” A single tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away impatiently.
“It’s okay to cry, you know.”
“It’s okay, but it never does any good.”
“Sometimes, it’s not about doing good, it’s about letting go.”
“I’m not ready to do that. I’m not sure that I ever will be. I hear the ambulance. You’d better go meet them.” She touched Eileen’s forehead again, turning her back to Darius.
He ran to the front door, opening it as an ambulance pulled up in front of the house and several EMTs got out.
“She’s in the back bedroom,” he said, leading the way.
“Cat? What’s going on?” the man in the lead asked as he approached the bed. Medium height with broad shoulders and a muscular build, he looked to be in his early thirties, his face smooth and a little too pretty.
Catherine didn’t acknowledge him, just stepped aside so Eileen could be tended to.
“Ma’am? Can you hear me?” One of the men leaned over Eileen, checking her pulse, looking in her eyes. Older, with salt-and-pepper hair and a wrinkled, weathered face, he worked with competent ease.
“Is she diabetic?” he asked.
“No. She has metastasized liver cancer. Stage 4. She had chemo today.”
“What medicines is she taking?”
Catherine rattled off a list that made the paramedic frown. “We’d better transport her. What hospital do you prefer?”
“Sacred Heart.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather bring her to the Valley? You did your nursing practicum there and—” The guy who’d called her Cat tried to speak, but Catherine cut him off.
“I told you where I want her brought, Peter. If it’s going to be a problem—”
Navy SEAL Rescuer Page 7
