Using the kitchen for a safe haven, she made herself look busy. If he didn’t think she was crazy before, he must now. She couldn’t believe she’d stood there staring at him. How juvenile. She could hear him behind her, the rustle of the sack when he removed the wine, the soft pop of the cork. His mere presence undid her. His body heat surrounded her. She didn’t know if she could manage a friendship with him. He’d need more than she knew how to give. She’d have to face him sometime.
“I hope you like this. I’m not exactly what you’d call a wine connoisseur.” He opened and closed a cabinet door and then another.
“I’m sure it’s wonderful.” Grateful he’d ignored her behavior, she turned and accepted the juice glass he held. “Emma probably didn’t let her daughter have wine.”
“Probably not. These work fine.” He sipped a taste as if to prove it. “Something I can do to help?”
“If you’ll get the salad from the fridge, we’re all set.”
Catherine loved to cook for anyone who loved to eat. Matt rewarded her by enjoying her hard work to the last bite. Conversation with him came easy. She learned they shared political views and could talk sports as long as they stuck to football. He didn’t push for personal information, but she found herself telling him about her childhood. The compassion in his eyes was real when she explained how her parents died in a six-car pile-up on an icy road when she was twenty.
“How about you? Are your parents still living?” She refilled his glass and handed it back. Their fingers touched and heat shot up her arm. His gaze darkened briefly.
“Lung cancer took my mother a couple of years ago. After Dad died from a massive heart attack, she wasted away. He was sheriff of the adjoining county for thirty years. No doubt his name and reputation helped me win the election.”
“Were you and your father close?” She held back the urge to touch him. The change in his expression when he spoke about his father sent chills racing up her arms.
“Hell no,” he snapped. “But he taught me plenty. When I was a kid, he used me for alibis and excuses. Never tried to hide his affairs from me. Put me in the position I had to lie to my mother to cover his sorry ass. She trusted me, and I couldn’t break her heart.” Matt blinked, coming back from a long time ago. “No siblings...how about you.”
Her heart rolled into a ball and dropped to her stomach. Matt’s pain had poured out of him and into the words, “she trusted me.”
“A brother. Jack and his family live in Flint, Michigan.” She didn’t add they’d been estranged for years. Andy hated her to have contact with her family. To stop the argument, she’d finally severed ties with Jack altogether. Not that her action had helped their relationship. Later, at the women’s shelter, she’d learned it was one more way she’d allowed him to control her.
Matt’s hand on top of hers stopped her mind from wandering. The pressure of his thumb rubbing a circle over her skin made her smile. She twined her fingers through his.
“I’m glad you asked me over.”
His palm was large, calloused, and warm. “Me, too.”
She held his gaze when he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. His fingers ran down her jaw and back up where he looped them around the back of her neck. His lips descended and lightly touched her cheek, moved to her earlobe then on to her neck. She leaned her head back, enjoying the small nips and kisses. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sank into the wonder of being gently touched. His mouth covered hers, and the tip of his tongue ran lightly across her bottom lip. The pressure increased, and she welcomed him inside. God, he tasted of wine and spices. His fingers buried in her hair and held her head in place.
The feeling of being trapped by his hands slammed into her. Catherine jerked away and stumbled a few steps backward. For a split second, she looked for a way around Matt.
Looked for somewhere to run. Looked into kind, startled eyes. She caught herself and tried to smile. He advanced a step, holding his hands up in surrender.
“What just happened?”
Catherine’s heart broke at the stunned look on his face.
He closed the distance with another step.
This time she stood her ground when he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheek in his palm.
“That look of panic in your eyes, while fleeting, destroys me. Tell me what I’m doing to scare you. How do I prove you can trust me?”
Catherine pressed her face into his warm palm. She wouldn’t let this slice of happiness get away from her.
She had to warn him.
She clasped his hand and led him to the couch.
Chapter Seven
Wednesday, August 2nd, 8:30 p.m.
Matt checked his raging curiosity, knowing if he pushed Catherine too hard she’d change the subject. He sat, doing his best to at least appear to be calm. Finally, he’d learn why she panicked at his touch. Her shoulders rose and her back stiffened. He scoured his brain for a way to make whatever she was about to tell him easier and drew a blank.
“I’m not scared of you.”
“I’m glad.” Matt was totally lost.
“I’m not a good lover. There’s an excellent chance I’ll disappoint you, and I hate to embarrass myself.”
“We kissed.” He refrained from commenting how sweet her lips felt under his. He worked at keeping his confusion from flashing across his face too. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you into anything more.”
“I know. The thing is... I’m sexually attracted to you. And in all honesty, I’m surprised.”
She clamped her lips shut. Matt didn’t push, because if her squirming meant anything, there was more.
“Sex hasn’t been on my list of priorities in a long time. I’ve been assured I’m cold and inadequate.”
“The person who ‘assured’ you was an idiot. He made excuses for his own incompetence.” Give me the chance to prove him wrong. “You have a list of priorities?”
“Yes, it’s compiled of things I’ll never do.” She smiled, and her bunched shoulders relaxed a little. “The Never list.”
“I see.” Matt went to the kitchen and returned carrying their glasses of wine. He moved her to the love seat next to him. “Am I on this Never list?”
That sexy blush of hers crawled up her neck and settled on her cheeks again. On her, the high color was beautiful.
“You did threaten to arrest me the first time we met.”
His mind ran back over previous conversations. He chuckled when their first encounter played back in his memory. Her hair had reminded him of wildfire. It still did.
“I can honestly say I’m glad I didn’t. As far as being inadequate, no one who has such a powerful effect on me is lacking anything. Trust me, I don’t lie.” He paused to ensure she understood he was serious. “I don’t know where we’re going. I know I want to go there—with you.” He sat back on the small love seat and let out a big breath.
She sipped her wine. “We’ll see.”
“We will?” He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. She didn’t resist when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. She rested her head against him. It was enough for now.
“Yeah. I think so.”
Her tense body calmed, relaxing in to him. He wouldn’t pressure her, but he’d be there when she was ready. Then he’d prove she was a beautiful and sensual woman.
Somewhere between shows, Matt felt her body relax. He readjusted his position, nestled her in his arms and watched her sleep. Was this her big secret? If so, he had to convince her whoever crushed her self-confidence was a dumb ass. He wanted to make love to her, but first she had to trust him. He’d gain that trust by letting things happen on her terms.
She had no idea how beautiful she was. The sprinkling of freckles across her nose, the dark russet lashes, and her soft, full lips made him ache all over.
Her body twitched, her brow furrowed, and a soulful whine came from deep inside. Matt rocked and whispered to her. “Shh. You’re ok
ay. I’ve got you.” He stroked her forehead and spoke softly.
On a gasp, her feet kicked, and she slapped at his hands. Her eyes flew open, wide and full of terror. Shit. There was more she hadn’t told him. She calmed when her gaze landed on his face.
“Easy. You had a nightmare.” He didn’t touch her, allowing her to come fully awake. She blinked a few times. Tension left her body as she relaxed, safe in his arms. “Want to tell me?”
“It was nothing.” She laughed off the dream. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”
“Stay.” He tested the situation by placing his hand on her arm. “The nightmare, you have those often?”
“Not anymore.” Her lips thinned.
“Can you tell me?”
“Nothing to tell.”
“I hope someday you’ll trust me enough to confide in me. Until then, I won’t pry.” He changed the subject because she’d shut him out if he pressed harder. “You’re incredibly beautiful when you sleep.”
“Stop. I’m incredibly ordinary.”
“Ordinary’s not a word I’d use to describe you. Incredible? You bet. And I...”
“I know—you don’t lie.” Catherine pushed up and straightened her rumpled blouse.
“I intended to say, I’m an expert.” The moment had passed and she’d retreated. “It’s close to ten. I should head home. Let’s clean up the dishes before I go.” He cut off her protest. “Remember? You cooked. I clean.”
****
Thursday, August 3rd, 8:00 a.m.
Matt read the typed document and nodded his head at Sue in appreciation. “Thanks. You didn’t have to work on this last night. How late did you stay?”
“It was nothing.” She lifted one shoulder. “No one’s waiting for me to come home.”
Matt didn’t consider himself sentimental, but Sue’s statement kicked him right in the heart. He’d never asked how long she’d been a widow, nor had she mentioned having any children. Maybe her being alone explained why the sheriff’s department and the community had become an important part of her life.
Matt looked up from his copy and caught her staring.
“How was your evening?” she asked. The corners of her mouth twitched.
He should’ve known better than to tell Sue about the date with Catherine. Sue questioning him was his own fault. He considered a flip answer; instead, he leaned back and waved her to a chair. “Okay, I guess. She’s got problems. Something happened she can’t get past.”
“And she’s not letting you fix them.”
Damn. Sue cut right to the heart. “Can’t fix anything if I don’t know what’s broke. She’s not talking.”
“Did you Google her? Want me to?”
“No to both.” Guilt that he’d already considered the Internet shrunk him in stature a couple of inches. “Wouldn’t feel right. She’ll tell me when she’s ready.”
“You better be good to her. Rumor is more than one man has noticed her good looks.”
“What rumor?” His thoughts went straight to Catherine’s gift-giver.
“Ha. That perked your ears up. Didn’t it?”
“Seriously, Sue. What’re you talking about?”
“Word is out that Vince paid too much attention awhile back. Why Jessie thinks another woman would have him is a wonder.” Her eyes sparkled. She was having a good time. “You wouldn’t be jealous. Or would you?”
“No. Somebody anonymously left her flowers. A few days later, she found this inside her car.” He opened a drawer and handed Sue the silk scarf. “The box had a picture of a man’s bicep inside.” He held the snapshot out for her to see.
Sue dumped the scarf on his desk and dusted her hands. “That’s sick. She’s coming in to fill out paperwork, right?”
“No. She refuses to file a complaint.”
“Foolish girl.”
“Nothing says I can’t look into who left them. Tanya insists Julia hadn’t received any gifts or pictures. I’m not convinced the killer and the stalker are two different men.” Matt looked up and motioned Jake and Rey into his office. “When I catch up on last night’s activities and lay out today’s assignments with these guys, I’m starting at the top of my list. If you need me, give a shout.”
****
Thursday, August 3rd, 10:30 a.m.
Matt knocked on the front door at JC’s house. He’d done a decent job of keeping the house paint maintained. The shrubs and grass had withered and died under the blistering heat wave. A trellis with a few limp, brown remnants of a climbing rose bush offered no shade to the sprawling porch that ran the length of the house. Even though JC worked nights, his name was first on the list, and Matt was a right-down-the-page kind of guy. He knocked, waited a few minutes, and then repeated the process.
JC opened the door a crack, scowled, and rubbed his knuckles across his eyes. “What’s up, Sheriff?”
“If you have a minute, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“About?”
“Julia Drummond.” Matt didn’t offer further explanations. JC’s reaction would speak volumes. His eyes shifted away from Matt for a second, then returned and held.
JC swung the door wide. “Might as well come in. I’m up. I gotta have caffeine.”
Matt followed him through the living room into the kitchen and waited while he fixed two cups of instant coffee. Matt couldn’t hide his surprise at the way the place was decorated. The burgundy leather couch and chair had seen better days. The widescreen TV made his mouth water. Damn thing dwarfed his. Dallas Cowboy memorabilia and posters were scattered around the room.
“Big football fan?”
“Yeah. Hard to miss.” JC plunked two coffees on the table. “Sit. Drink. Ask away.”
JC slumped down in a chair at the breakfast table, and Matt sat across from him. “Just conversationally, tell me about Julia. How often she came in, and who she talked to, that sort of stuff.”
“She’s...sorry, hard to think of her as gone. Her and Tanya been coming in for a year or so. Neither of them drank much, a few beers. With me stuck behind the bar, I can’t tell you who she danced with or talked to. Marty probably could. She’s on the floor with the customers.”
“You ever see any of the men hit on Julia?”
“No. I told you, I don’t see much from behind the bar.”
“How about yourself? Was she your type?”
JC snapped to attention. “What the hell does that mean?” He shoved his hair off his face and glared at Matt.
“It’s a question. I see no reason for you to get upset.”
“Pissed is a better word. Did you roust me out of bed to ask about the dead girl or make accusations?”
“JC...” Matt hesitated for a second. “I’m looking for answers. You may have seen something you don’t know is important. Since you brought up the subject, where were you Wednesday, July twenty-sixth?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” JC walked to the fridge, pulled off a magnetic calendar, and tossed it onto the table. “Feel free to check my appointment book. Best guess? Right here at home. Alone.”
Matt finished his questions, thanked JC, and then headed to the next name on the list. Most of the men were at work. A tinge of regret for taking the list of names in Curry hit Matt. If he’d been in Butte Crest, he could’ve stopped by and asked Catherine to have lunch with him.
Hell, he’d strung more sentences together last night at her house than he remembered ever doing. Why’d he share that stuff about his dad? Matt jerked off his hat and shoved his fingers through his hair. People had trusted the unworthy bastard. Mama never questioned or doubted his word. Most of all, Mama had trusted Matt.
He hoped Catherine didn’t think him too cynical. Truth was he could count on one hand the people he trusted. There used to be another, but she was dead.
****
Friday, August 4th, 7:30 p.m.
Backtracking every step Julia Drummond had taken for the last few weeks of her life had netted zero clues. Matt reread the repor
ts from the initial search of her house and store. A warrant for her phone records from the florist shop and home had produced nothing. The young woman apparently led a quiet, uneventful life right up to the day she disappeared.
Jake and Rey were working their section of the list Tanya had provided. A couple of the men from the bar had records. No violent offenders, but Matt wanted to finish his list today. He intended to double back and interview the ex-cons himself.
Matt had one name left. He pushed the doorbell at Vince Bradley’s and waited.
Jessie Bradley opened the duplex door wearing a pink, satiny robe, holding a mascara wand in her hand. The makeup on her face and sky-high blonde hair indicated she was dressing for a night out. She propped one hand on her ample hip and ran her gaze from his toes back up to his eyes. He hadn’t saved the easiest for last.
“If you’ve got a warrant for Vince’s unpaid traffic tickets, you can wait in your car until he gets out of the shower.” She closed the door before Matt uttered a word.
He pushed the doorbell again. “I’m not here to arrest your husband. I need to speak with you both.”
The door opened again. “What’s there to talk about?”
“Julia Drummond.”
Jessie huffed out a sigh and waved him inside. “Have a seat.” Without another word, she walked back to what Matt assumed was the bedroom and closed the door.
A lot of furniture had been crammed into the small duplex. Newspapers and magazines were strewn about, most of them weighted down by empty long neck beer bottles. One or both of the Bradley’s smoked. The smell and number of butts in ashtrays staggered the senses. Matt chose to stand. A few minutes later Jessie and Vince emerged, both pressed and polished in jeans and western boots. Vince offered a smile and a handshake, waved at a chair, and then seated himself in an oversized recliner.
“What’d you want to know about Julia?” Vince smoothed back his hair, accentuating a receding hairline.
“Anything that might help me catch her killer.”
Jessie flinched, but Vince’s face muscles remained relaxed. Maybe, too relaxed.
“She came in the Saddleback. We weren’t friends,” Vince said.
The Green-Eyed Doll Page 8
