The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 4

by Nora Roberts

  “They’re not, to him.”

  “I would never have done this,” she said. “No matter how far I fell, I’d never have done this. He made a mistake doing this, because I know this wasn’t me.” She ran a finger over the blacked-out faces of those who’d died. “I loved them, and I’d never have tried to erase them.”

  She went through every page, as Brody had done, then closed the book. “Bastard. Fucking bastard. No, he won’t win.” She went back to the desk, laid the book down. “He won’t.”

  He went to her, and because he did, she could turn. She could lean into him. “I can replace most of the pictures—my grandmother has copies of some of them. But the group shot was the only one I had of all of us.”

  “The families might have copies.”

  “Of course. They would.” She eased back, pushed at her hair. “I can get in touch, ask for a copy. I can do that. I’ve got to get back down, finish my shift.”

  “I’ll come in when I’m done.” He stroked her hair. “Maybe we’ll do something later. Take a drive. Or I can borrow a boat. Something.”

  “Something sounds good. I’m all right. I’ll be fine.”

  PETE WAS BACK at work, and sent her a wink when she walked into the kitchen. “That teriyaki chicken san of yours is the hit of the early lunch crowd. Lots going out, and not much of it coming back on the plates.”

  “Good.”

  “Went some over on your break,” Joanie said from the grill.

  “Sorry. I’ll stay some over after my shift.”

  “Brody painting upstairs?”

  Reece paused in the act of washing her hands. “How do you know these things?”

  “Carl came in for a cup of coffee, told Linda-gail Brody was down to the mercantile and bought paint and supplies. Brody’s car’s still out front here. Two and two.”

  “Yes, he’s doing me a favor.”

  “Better not be some crazy color.”

  “It’s a very pale blue. It’s just the bathroom. It…needed it.”

  “Likely it did.” Joanie piled steak on a long bun, flipped on eggs and began to build a hoagie. “Nice having a man take on some of the chores.”

  “It is.” After drying her hands, Reece snagged the next ticket inline.

  “Don’t recall Brody ever doing the same for any other woman around here. You recall him doing the same, Pete?”

  “Can’t say that I do.”

  Pete was right about the teriyaki. She had orders for two, one with onion rings, one with the black bean soup. Reece got to work.

  “You both know I’m sleeping with him,” she said mildly. “Men often do a few chores for women who sleep with them.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first one he’s slept with around here,” Joanie put in. “But he didn’t paint anyone’s bathroom for the privilege.”

  “Maybe I’m just better in bed.”

  Joanie let out a hoot of laughter, dumped an order of fries on the plate with the hoagie and added a scoop of slaw. “Order up! Denny, how you doing?”

  “Doing fine, Joanie.” Instead of sitting, the deputy stood at the counter. “Sheriff sent me down. Wanted to see if Reece could come in for a few minutes, you could spare her.”

  “Hell, Denny, she’s just back from break and the lunch rush is starting.”

  “Well.” Denny pushed a hand under his uniform hat to scratch his head. “It’s just…Can I come back there a minute?”

  Looking aggrieved, Joanie waved him back.

  “What’s going on?” Linda-gail whispered, working her way down the counter.

  “Nothing that concerns you like taking that order to a paying customer does.” Joanie turned back into the kitchen. “Now why does Rick want to short me my cook at goddamn noon when I’m up to my ass here?”

  “The sheriff wants me?” Reece looked over from sizzling chicken.

  “He’d like it if you could come down for a couple minutes. Thing is…I didn’t want to say much about it out there, where people are eating and all that,” Denny said to Joanie. “Thing is, they found a woman’s body in the marshes in Moose Ponds.” His eyes looked sorrowfully into Reece’s now. “Sheriff’s got, um, a couple of pictures he thought you should look at. See if she’s the one you said…I mean the one you saw up over the river.”

  “You go on,” Joanie said briskly.

  “Yes.” Her voice was dull. “Yes, I should go up and…I’ll just finish this order.”

  “I can finish the damn order. Pete, run on upstairs and get Brody.”

  “No. No. Don’t bother him.” Absently, Reece untied her apron. “I’ll be fine. We’ll just go now.”

  Pete waited until Reece was out of earshot. “Want me to go up and get Brody?”

  “She said no. Reece knows her own mind.” But there was worry on Joanie’s face as she turned back to the grill.

  He’d brought the radio car, so the trip was quick. It didn’t give her time to settle the idea, or to obsess about it. It would all be over in a few minutes, Reece thought. She could put all this behind her—or try to.

  “I’m going to take you right back to Rick’s office.” Denny gave her shoulder a hesitant pat when they were out of the car. “You want some coffee? Some water?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.” And she didn’t think she could swallow. “Do you know how she was…how she died?”

  “You’d better talk to the sheriff.” Denny opened the door for her.

  Hank looked over from Dispatch, put his hand over the mike. “Bunch of crazy tourists chasing down buffalo with an SUV, trying to get action pictures. Got a wrecked SUV now, and a pissed-off bull. Reece.” He mustered up a smile for her. “Doing okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Denny, I’m going to need you to go on out with Lynt, haul this bunch in, tow the vehicle. Bunch of fuckheads. Beg your pardon, Reece.”

  “I’ll just go back to Sheriff Mardson’s office.”

  “Where are they?” she heard Denny ask as she walked away.

  The door was open, and Mardson was already coming around the desk to meet her. “Thanks for coming in.”

  “They found someone. A woman. A body.”

  “Sit down now.” He took her arm, gently, led her to a chair. “Kids came across her. She matches your description. I got some pictures. I’m going to tell you they’re not easy pictures, but if you can look at them, tell me if you think she’s the woman you saw, that would be a big help.”

  “Was she strangled?”

  “There’s some indication she might’ve been throttled some. You think you can look at the pictures?”

  “I can look at them.” She gripped her hands together in her lap to anchor herself, while he took a file off his desk.

  “Take your time now.”

  He sat in the other visitor’s chair, then held out a photo. She didn’t take it; she couldn’t unknot her fingers. But she looked.

  Then looked away as her breath wheezed out. “She’s—Oh God.”

  “I know it’s hard. She was in the marsh for a time. Maybe a day or two. Coroner’s got to determine time of death and so on.”

  “A day or two? But it’s been weeks.”

  “If she walked away with him that day, was hurt but not dead, this could’ve happened later.”

  When she started to shake her head, Rick held up a hand. “Can you say, without a shadow of a doubt, she couldn’t have still been alive?”

  She wanted to say she could, absolutely. But how could she?

  “There isn’t much of a shadow in my mind.”

  “That’s enough for now. Is this the woman you saw, Reece?”

  She gripped her own fingers until they hurt, then used the pain to brace herself to look again.

  The face was so bruised, so swollen, with bloodless cuts all over it, down the throat, which was raw and red. Whatever lived in the marsh had sampled her as well. She’d heard once that fish and birds often go for the eyes first. Now she knew it was true.

  Her hair was dark, long. He
r shoulders seemed slight.

  Reece tried to superimpose her memory of the woman she’d seen over the ruined face of this one.

  “I don’t…She seems younger, and her hair…her hair seems shorter. I don’t know.”

  “You were a good distance away that day, I know.”

  “He didn’t beat her. Her face—this face—someone beat her. He only pushed her down before…He didn’t beat her face like this.”

  Rick said nothing for a moment, then when Reece looked away again, he turned the photo facedown.

  “It could be she wasn’t dead when you ran for help. That he dragged her off, covered his trail. Might be she came around, and they patched up for a while. Traveling around the area, maybe. Had another fight a couple weeks later, and that’s when the rest of it happened. A man puts his hands around a woman’s throat once, he could do it again.”

  “The rest.”

  “We’ve got to wait for the autopsy and other evidence to be processed. I’m saying that the odds are pretty good this is the woman you saw. But if you could take another look, clearing your mind out first, it would help. She didn’t have any identification with her. They’ve run her prints, but there’s no record of them. They’ll use dental, and they’re running Missing Persons. But knowing if she was where you saw those two people, knowing if she was with the man you saw, that might help some, too.”

  Reece kept her eyes on his, level, steady. “You didn’t believe me before. You didn’t believe I saw what I said I did, or that anyone was even there.”

  “I had my doubts, I won’t lie to you. That doesn’t mean I didn’t look into it, or that I’m not still doing just that.”

  “All right.” And this time she held out her hand for the photograph. The shock had waned, so now there was pity as she studied the face. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I wish I could say this is the woman I saw, but I can’t. I think she was older than this, and that her hair was longer, her face narrower, but I’m not sure. If they, when they identify her, if I could see a picture of her before this was done to her, I think I could say yes or no with a lot more certainty.”

  “Okay.” He took the photo, then laid a hand over hers and squeezed. Hers felt as if she’d stuck it into a freezer. “I know this was hard for you. You want some water?”

  “No. Thanks.”

  “Once they get her identified, we’ll have you look. I appreciate you coming down this way. I’m going to have Denny drive you back home.”

  “I think he had to go on a call.”

  “I’ll take you back myself.”

  “I can walk.” But when she got to her feet, her legs wobbled. “Or maybe not.”

  “I’ll take you on back. You want to sit a few more minutes first?”

  Reece shook her head. “If you’re right. Say you’re right and she was still alive that day. Why would she stay with him? Voluntarily stay with him after he tried to kill her?”

  “There’s no telling what people will do. Hank, I’m running Reece back home. And maybe I’m wrong,” Rick added as he took his hat off the hook, opened the door. “Maybe this has nothing to do with what you saw last month. But from your description, there’s a good chance of it.”

  “She hasn’t been reported missing because she was with him, and he wouldn’t report it. Or he hasn’t.”

  “Could be.”

  She got in the car, let her head lean back. “I wish I knew it was the same woman. It would be a lot easier to just say yes, that’s the one. Then it would be over for me; it would be finished.”

  “You ought to put it out of your mind now, at least for now. Let the police do their job.”

  “I wish I could.”

  When he pulled up at Joanie’s, Reece glanced up and saw Brody just coming out her door.

  When he saw her in the radio car, he bolted down the steps.

  “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

  He looked so worried, and she wasn’t used to seeing worry on his face. Her insides wanted to shiver. “They found a woman’s body, and I went to look at the photos from…I don’t know if it was her. Her face was too ravaged. I don’t think it was the woman I saw, but—”

  “She was found in the marsh, near Moose Ponds,” Rick said as he got out the driver’s side.

  “I’m just going to sit on the steps for a minute before I go back in. A little more air.” Reece walked to the steps, sat down heavily.

  “Female victim,” Rick said under his breath to Brody, “Long, dark hair. Evidence she was choked. Beaten, raped. Maybe drowned. Coroner’s doing the autopsy about now. Kids found her. Naked, no ID, no clothes in the area.”

  “Just found her?”

  “Yesterday. I got word today, got the crime scene photos.”

  “Jesus Christ, Rick, how the hell did you expect Reece to ID a woman who’s been soaking in the marsh for almost a goddamn month?”

  “Day or two,” Rick corrected. “If Reece saw someone that day last month, and that woman walked or was carried away from the river still breathing, this could be her. I needed to see if Reece could identify her. She handled it pretty well. She’s got some guts.”

  “You should’ve called me first, let me bring her down.” Brody frowned over at Reece. “You know damn well we’re hooked up.”

  “She wanted you with her, she could’ve called you. What the hell’s in your hair?”

  “Shit.” Brody raked his hands through it. “Paint. Did a little painting upstairs.”

  “That so?” Rick lifted his eyebrows. “I guess you’re more hooked up than I figured.”

  “It’s just fucking paint.”

  Rick offered a toothy smile. “Nice, pretty blue. Back when Debbie and Ihooked up , she had me fixing her porch, then picking up this or that at the market. Before I knew it, I was renting a tux and saying ‘I do.’”

  “Screw you, Rick. It’s paint.”

  “Gotta start somewhere.” He walked over to Reece, crouched so she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him. “Are you going to be all right now?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be all right. Thanks for bringing me back.”

  “Just part of the service.”

  “Sheriff?” she called as he headed back to the car. “You’ll let me know as soon as she’s identified?”

  “I will. You count on it. Take care of yourself now. You watch out if she tries to put an apron on you,” he added to Brody.

  “Kiss my—” But Rick was already sliding into the car and shutting the door.

  As Reece pushed off the steps, Brody went back to her. “Come on, we’ll get whatever else you need and take it to my place. Go for that drive or whatever.”

  “No, I have to go back to work.”

  “Joanie’s not going to fire you, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I need the work. I need the money. And I owe her an extra hour. I’ll do better if I’m busy anyway. Rain check on the drive or whatever?”

  “Fine.” He pulled her key out of his pocket, handed it to her. “You’re locked up. I’ll be at home if…I’ll be at home.”

  “Okay.” Since he made no move, she did, and leaned in to kiss him. “Consider that a small down payment on the painting fee.”

  “I thought I was being paid in food.”

  “To start.”

  19

  JOANIE ASKED no questions, and had given the stern word that she didn’t want to hear any aimed in Reece’s direction that didn’t have to do with food.

  When the lunch crowd slowed, she watched Reece chop onions and celery. The girl might have had the speed and precision with a knife that a champion barrel racer had with a horse, but her mind wasn’t on her work.

  “Your shift’s over,” Joanie told her.

  “I owe you time. And we’re low on potato salad.”

  “You owed me ten minutes, already paid.”

  Reece shook her head, kept chopping. “I was a good thirty minutes with the sheriff.”

  Mortally insulted, Joanie fisted her hands on h
er hips. “Did I say anything about docking you for that? Christ.”

  “I owe you thirty minutes.” Reece dumped the onions and celery into the potatoes she’d already boiled, cubed and cooled. “This would have more zing with fresh dill.”

  “Well, I’d have more zing with George Clooney and Harrison Ford in a threesome, but neither of us are going to get that wish. I don’t hear the customers complaining, and I said your shift is over. I don’t pay overtime.”

  “I don’t want your damn overtime. I want fresh dill, and some goddamn curry and cheese that doesn’t look like plastic. And if the customers don’t complain, it’s because their taste buds are atrophied.”

  “That being the case,” Joanie said evenly while Pete slunk away from the sink toward the back door, “they don’t give a rat’s flea-bitten ass about fresh dill.”

  “Well, theyshould .” Reece slammed the jar of dressing on the work counter. “You should. Why should everyone just make do? I’m tired of just making do.”

  “Then get out of my kitchen.”

  “Fine.” Reece yanked off her apron. “Fine. I’m out.” Fueled with righteous fury, she sailed into Joanie’s office, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She stopped by a booth where a trio of hikers were finishing up their lunch and pretending not to listen. “Cumin.” She jabbed a finger toward a bowl of chili. “It needs cumin.” And stormed out.

  “Cumin, my ass,” Joanie muttered, then rounded on Pete. “Get back to work. I’m not paying you to stand around looking sorrowful.”

  “I could go after her.”

  “You could be out of a job, too.” Cumin, Joanie thought with a sniff, and stalked over to finish the potato salad.

  Reece slammed into her car. What she should do is drive and keep on driving, she told herself. She didn’t need this town, these people, this ridiculous job that made a mockery out of real cuisine. She should head out to L.A., that’s what she should do. Go to L.A. and take over a kitchen in a real restaurant where people understood food was more than something you stuffed into your face.

  She slammed out of the car again in front of the mercantile. She owed Joanie time, but the bitch didn’t want it. She owed Brody a meal for painting, and by God, she was paying her debt.