Tall, Dark, and Deadly

by Heather Graham

  Sam shrugged. “She was a reporter. Always after Rowan.”

  “Did you see her tonight?”

  “I—yes.”

  “When?”

  “Well… not long ago. She was kind of skulking around the yards.”

  Teddy was quiet for a moment. “Did Rowan see her?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “He told her to go away.”

  “Did he threaten her?” Teddy asked.

  “No, no! No, really, he just told her to—go away.”

  “Oh, jeez!” Teddy said softly. “He did threaten her, didn’t he?”

  “No!” Sam was shaking. “But what—what happened?”

  “He says he came out of his house and saw her floating there.”

  “Floating?”

  “By the shore.”

  “And he fished her out?”

  “So he says.”

  “Oh, Teddy! I need to talk to him—”

  “Not now. He’s going down to headquarters.”

  “He’s under arrest?” she asked incredulously.

  “No, he’s coming down voluntarily.”

  “Sam, Sam, it’s all right,” Joe said reassuringly.

  “Listen, I need to go down and keep track of what’s going on. Laura is on her way over. Joe, will you go in with them and take a good look around and then lock up the house? Sam, we’ll get a tap on the phone tomorrow— don’t answer it tonight. Let the machine pick up. If I really need you, I’ll call you on Laura’s cell phone, okay?”

  She nodded jerkily. “Teddy—”

  “Don’t worry about Rowan. He’s a big boy.”

  But she was worried. She could see Rowan again. He had a blanket around his shoulders now, a cup of coffee in his hand. He seemed to tower over the officers surrounding him.

  Beth Bellamy was being rolled to an ambulance. Rowan’s eyes met hers once again. He turned away, his sense of betrayal complete, she thought.

  “Come on, Sam,” Joe said gently.

  “Teddy, Beth is leaving in an ambulance, not a—”

  “They’ve gotten her heart beating again,” Teddy said, “but…”

  “Yeah?” Joe said.

  “She’s still in a coma. According to Rowan, she came out of the water unconscious. Hey, go on home. I’ll be in touch. I promise,” Teddy said.

  “Come on, Sam,” Joe said.

  Rowan was gone. He had disappeared. Police were still milling about, but she couldn’t see Rowan anymore.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Teddy swore. “Trust me, you’re going to have to give a statement. Especially if…”

  “If she dies?” Sam asked.

  “Go home.”

  Joe led Sam back across the yards and into her house. “We left the door open again,” Joe said. “I’ll start checking things out.”

  She just stood in the back, numbed by what had happened.

  “You know,” he said, trying to tease, “it has been one bitch of a day. The house can wait a minute.” He strode on into the kitchen and poured her a glass of wine. He brought it back to her, forcing it into her fingers. “Now, swallow that down while I brave the dark jungles of this old barn!”

  She nodded. The doorbell rang. Joe answered it. She heard her cousin’s voice. Laura had come.

  She came through to the back, walking straight to her, slipping her arms around her. “You poor dear, what an awful week! But it’s all right. They can’t really arrest Rowan. He’ll be out, don’t you worry. And I’ll be here.”

  “I’ll be here,” Joe said sternly.

  Sam gave herself a shake. She had wanted to find Marnie. She had decided before that she wasn’t going to be a coward. “No, you’re not staying, Joe. You’re all dressed up. You were headed out.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s not that important—”

  “Joe, have you checked out all my closets and rooms?”

  He grinned, flexing his muscles. “I threatened every shadow!”

  “Then go on!”

  He looked uncertainly at Laura.

  “I’m going to be here. And the alarm works. I’m not afraid, and I’m the world’s worst coward. We’ll set the alarm. We’ll be fine.”

  “All right,” Joe said at last. “I’ll call and check up on you, though.”

  “Fine. Thank you.” Laura smiled, then said, “Sam doesn’t like guns, but I have an old police special with me. Once upon a time when we liked each other, Teddy taught me how to shoot it.”

  “Well, in that case…”

  “Go on out and have a life,” Sam said.

  Joe nodded and started for the door. “Come lock me out.”

  Laura followed him, locking the door, setting the alarm. She returned, shaking her head. “This is so awful. That stupid reporter.”

  “Laura, she’s in a coma!”

  “Sam, it’s her own fault. She hounded him.”

  “She might die.”

  “Well, Rowan didn’t do it.”

  “Do it?”

  “She was struck on the head.”

  “Oh, God!” Sam sat down, shaking. She swallowed the wine in her glass in a gulp. Laura was there to rescue the glass. Sam threaded her fingers through her hair. “Oh, God, oh God…”

  “He wouldn’t have done it!” Laura said indignantly.

  Sam looked up at her cousin. “No… you… you don’t know. He was so angry! He looked like he was going to hit her. I’d never seen him like that.”

  “He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t!” Laura said fiercely.

  Sam shook her head slowly. “Laura, he’s been good to you. You want to believe the best—”

  “Yes,” Laura said stubbornly. She lifted her chin.” He’s my friend, and of course, I believe the best. You supposedly love him. No wonder he slammed a door in your face. You wanted his trust then, you didn’t deserve it. You don’t deserve it now!” Laura turned her back on Sam indignantly and walked away. “I’ll be reading in the living room if you need me. I’m not sure I have anything more to say to you tonight.”

  “But—” Sam began. Her words faded. Because maybe Laura was right.

  Once she had claimed that she would be there, stand by him, and stand up for him.

  Believe in him…

  She heard a phone ringing. A cellular. Laura’s.

  A minute later her cousin reappeared. “Sam, that was Teddy. He said that if we see Thayer Newcastle, we’re not to let him in, under any circumstances.”

  “Why?”

  “Because one of his paintings is of Chloe Lowenstein. Naked. In the swamp.”

  Loretta did the lap dance of the century. In fact, it was so damn good that she wondered if the no-longer-so-shy young executive would have any juice left for his own wedding. It had been a nice group. A heavy-tipping group. A lot of guys, though. High-class, big-money types. Doctors, lawyers, architects, builders, politicians! And cops, naturally. No matter how you dressed them up, she could smell out the cops every time.

  Some came close and were wild, some stood in the background, in the shadows. She’d gotten down to a garter belt and a G-string, and both had been filled with money.

  And still…

  If you’re going to do a job, do it well. She had done it well. The guys had been great. She just didn’t feel so great herself as she dressed to leave. She’d had hands everywhere on her flesh. Not really part of the game, but the money had been there. She’d gotten just a little carried away herself. And now…

  Time to go.

  She asked the brother to call her a cab. He said he would. Then she heard a voice at her ear.

  “Sheila, huh? Sheila?”

  She spun around. Her heart flew up and crashed down. “Oh, God!”

  He smiled, he touched her cheek. “Loretta…”

  His smile was so…

  His hand was on her arm. “Let’s go.”

  Then she stepped outside to leave. And there was one of the guys.

  Sam decided to make cookies. She was c
ompletely unnerved. Beth Bellamy was in a coma, Chloe Lowenstein was dead—and now, she couldn’t get the image of Thayer Newcastle’s painting out of her mind.

  Was he a killer?

  She didn’t know why she decided to bake; it was just something to do. She was cutting out the dough when Laura came into the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

  “Cookies. Heck, if I’m going to be trusting and loyal, I’m going to want to take home-cooked baked goods when I visit my man in the lockup, huh?”

  “Very funny. For your information, Rowan left the police station hours ago.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Teddy called.” She made a face. “He was already out partying himself. I could hear the music blaring away in the background.”

  “Laura, he cares about you. You know he cares about you. And at that club the other night, well, you two were on each other like rabbits, you know.”

  She shrugged. “It was a nice night, but nothing more. Not now, anyway. I really don’t care at the moment. I just worry about the kids.”

  “Why? Lacey seems to have a real opportunity this weekend.”

  “Yeah.” Laura leaned against the counter. “I just wish I could help her more.”

  “You do help them. You encourage them to fulfill their dreams, and that’s what everyone needs.”

  Laura smiled. “Well, that and an audience. I need everyone I can get for Sunday.”

  “I’ll call everyone I can.”

  “And Rowan. If Rowan will just sit in for a set…”

  “I’m sure he will.” She hesitated. “If he isn’t arrested.”

  “Teddy will be there, and lots of cops. I do give him that. He supports his kids.”

  “I can call some of my clients.” She hesitated again. “The law firm is a damn strange place, but Kevin Madigan is being awful friendly. He can get some people to show up, too.”

  “And we can watch them, right? And interrogate them?”

  “Laura, people in that firm own the strip club. Along with Lee Chapman.”

  “I know. Teddy told me.”

  “Don’t you think it’s…”

  “Slimy? It’s just business.”

  Sam shook her head.

  “The dancers were pretty. Sexy. It’s adult entertainment.” She grimaced. “I certainly wound up entertained.”

  “But, Laura…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. I just have to wonder where else it can lead.”

  “Decent people do that kind of thing for a living.”

  “You think Chapman is decent?”

  “No, but that doesn’t make all club owners, dancers, bouncers, and so on bad!”

  “All right.”

  Laura laughed suddenly. “So if you know any dancers, strippers, bouncers, con men, be sure to invite them for Sunday, too.”

  “I’ll invite them all.”

  “That will be great.”

  “Seriously, lots of friends will show. I know Joe will come. Harry and Ann Lacata and Gregory—they always support us.”

  Laura laughed. “And we can get Phil the contractor! He’ll do anything for you, hoping to suck up enough to get you to redo this place with him.”

  “Marnie always came, and Thayer—”

  “Thayer!” Laura shivered. “Oh, Sam! I didn’t see the painting, but it’s really scary, isn’t it? Rowan told Teddy that you can very clearly see the bracelet on the woman’s wrist in the painting.”

  “Well, I imagine it means he definitely knows Chloe Lowenstein. But, of course, he knew her. She worked with his sister.”

  “But he painted her naked. Coming out of the swamp.”

  “Where her body was found,” Sam agreed, looking at Laura.

  Suddenly the phone began to ring. Both women Jumped. Then they stared at one another. The machine picked up.

  Silence…

  Lacey wanted to die.

  To crawl under a table and die.

  This was horrible. She would never, never do it again. Yet it was finally over. And soon she’d be headed out on a big silver bird. Headed for the Big Apple. With plenty of money. But money would never matter quite so much again. This was it.

  They weren’t supposed to touch, but she’d been mauled and pawed. She’d yelled, she’d been angry—and then she’d been booed.

  But it was over, over! And she was dressed and ready to go. It was early, plenty early. They really hadn’t wanted her to stick around…

  She stepped outside onto the beautiful grounds, breathing in the clean night air. The arrogant ass who had hired her said that he’d called the taxi, but she had a feeling that he would let her sit a while first. She didn’t care. Never again. Never.

  “Lacey!”

  Her name was said so softly. With such empathy and sorrow.

  She winced, turning, her heart beating. Who could it be? Who had recognized her? Oh, God, he would never, never understand…

  “Oh!” she said miserably.

  He shook his head. She felt her face flame.

  “I—I needed the money. Please, don’t… I… oh, my God, it was awful, I’ll never, never, never do it again, honest, I—”

  “My car is over there. Ready?”

  She nodded. He directed her to his car. He seated her on the passenger side, took the driver’s seat himself. His engine revved. They left the scene of her infamy behind.

  “The New York thing is real, a big break—”

  “I know.”

  “But we’re not heading for the airport.”

  He looked at her. “There’s time,” he said.

  She was so ashamed. She had to keep silent.

  And yet…

  They were driving and driving. Out of the city. Out on the Trail.

  Heading toward the swamp, she thought.

  Toward two o’clock Sam decided to go to bed.

  The first caller hadn’t spoken.

  Teddy and Joe both called back to check on her.

  Not a word from Rowan.

  She tossed and turned restlessly, seeing horrible pictures again and again in her mind’s eye.

  The corpse in the water.

  Or the piece of the corpse in the water…

  Beth Bellamy, on Rowan’s lawn.

  The painting. Thayer Newcastle’s painting of a woman, walking out of the swamp.

  Despite the pictures in her mind, she slept.

  Then she awakened, filled with terror. She didn’t know why.

  Then she did.

  There was someone in her house. Laura, yes, of course, Laura. Laura was sleeping down the corridor in the guest bedroom.

  No. There was someone there. In her room.

  No, no, no…

  But there was!

  She could see the shadow. The shadow of a man…

  In her doorway. He wasn’t moving. He was just… Watching.

  Waiting.

  I can see you…

  Terror filled her. She tried not to move. Not to let him know she had awakened. She had to find a way to slip away in the darkness of the night.

  How?

  Oh, God, she would never…

  Laura had a gun.

  Where was Laura?

  Had he already found Laura? Surprised her, hurt her. Was Laura already… I can see you.

  I’ll be watching…

  Waiting.

  I can see you…

  He started to move.

  Too late. She had nothing. She opened her mouth and started to scream.

  “No!” His voice was harsh, gruff.

  He leapt across the room, landing on her before she could flee, his hand falling over her mouth.

  “Sam…”

  Chapter 22

  Rowan could have killed Laura. He’d told her to wake Sam, to ask Sam if she wanted to talk to him. But no, Laura, determined to be a dedicated matchmaker, had sent him straight to Sam. And he’d knocked on her door to awaken her, to alert her…

  But she woke up in terror anyway.r />
  He tried to show her it was him. Tried to say her name, tried to get her to quit screaming—for God’s sake, there was a plainclothesman in a car outside. Rowan was in enough difficulty without the cop rushing in, convinced that he was killing Sam.

  “Sam!”

  His hand was over her mouth. She was kicking, screaming, thrashing, fighting like a maniac. He was on top of her, barely stilling her.

  “Sam!”

  Finally she went still. Eyes very green in the shadows, going wide as she stared up at him. His fingers were tangled in her hair; he was a heavy bulk against her. Maybe she did think that he was killing her—she hadn’t seemed to have much faith in him tonight.

  “Please quit screaming. If you don’t, I will most likely be arrested.” He eased his grip slightly.

  “Get your hand off my mouth!” she snapped. He sat back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she cried.

  “Damn it, I knocked. Laura let me in—”

  “So you attacked me in the bedroom?”

  “I didn’t attack you—”

  “You sure as hell did!”

  “I knocked on your bedroom door, and you started screaming bloody murder. I had to stop you.”

  “What are you doing here?” She tossed back her hair, eyeing him narrowly.

  “Trying to talk to you!”

  Her lashes fell over her cheeks. “You’re definitely out of jail.”

  “I wasn’t in jail. I went down for voluntary questioning. They’ll be by to take a statement from you in the morning. Don’t worry—I told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

  “And that was…”

  He sat back on his haunches. She was wearing something soft and blue. A material that clung to her form. Very distracting. He swallowed, remembering the evening with bitterness. “Somebody attacked Beth Bellamy and left her in the water to die. She would have died—if it hadn’t been for that manatee.”

  “Mollie?”

  “She kept her from sinking, pushed her toward the dock.”

  “And then you… saved her. Pulled her out of the water.”

  “I don’t know if I saved her or not. She’s in a coma.”

  “But you pulled her out… and called nine-one-one?”

  “Yes.”

  Sam leaned back on her pillow, staring up at him. Her eyes were wide and beautiful, her hair was like a rich fantasy, spread out around her head. Her breasts rose and fell against the soft blue stuff she was wearing. He heard her breath, felt her heartbeat. She was a memory come to life, one that had lived in his soul forever, or so it seemed. But he was worn. More bitter than he had ever wanted to be. He could fight forever if he had to, but he couldn’t fight against her doubt, not at this point.