Don't Look

by Alexandra Ivy

  Lynne wrapped her arms around her waist. “I remember when it happened, but I didn’t realize it was here. I’m sorry.”

  For a pained moment Kir was unable to look away from the spot in the street where his father had nearly died. Then, with a shake of his head, he turned back toward the alley. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “What can’t?”

  He pointed toward the dumpster. “Rita’s body being left here.”

  “Do you mean she decided to come to this location because she knew this was where your father was shot?”

  “No.” It had never felt right to assume Rita had left the cemetery and headed to the café instead of returning to her home as she’d said she was going to do. Still, there hadn’t been any other explanation. Until now. “I don’t think Rita came here at all. Not until she was already dead.”

  Lynne arched her brows. “The killer brought her here?”

  “He could have run her down as she was leaving the graveyard, then loaded her into his vehicle.” He shrugged. “Rita barely weighed a hundred pounds. It would have been easy to stuff her behind the dumpster.”

  “That makes sense.” Lynne looked sick even as she made a visible effort to remain in control of her emotions. “Why would he follow her into town and run her down in front of a crowd of people when he could kill her in a more isolated area?”

  “Exactly. Then he brought her here to dump the body.” He swept his hand around the empty street. “If he parked on the street, I doubt anyone would have noticed his car. More importantly, I can’t imagine there are any working cameras. Why have security for an empty building?”

  “God.” Lynne shuddered. “It’s so horrible.”

  Kir moved to wrap an arm around Lynne’s shoulders. “Let’s go back to my dad’s house.”

  She readily followed him back to the truck. He suspected she was eager to get away from the spot where Rita’s broken body had so recently been found. He didn’t blame her. It was a gruesome end for the poor woman.

  “Do you have a specific reason you want to go to your dad’s place?” she asked as she crawled behind the steering wheel.

  He joined her in the truck. “There are some old papers I want to look through.”

  “Okay.” She pulled out of the parking lot. “Let’s swing by and pick up King. He’s going to be ready for his dinner.”

  Dear Rudolf,

  Our time together is nearing its end, old friend.

  For so long I have depended on you to be my rock. You rescued me from the depths of hell. And while I was dragged back to the fiery pits, I never blamed you. You even helped me battle my bloodlust after I ended the screams.

  I suppose it was too much to hope that the hunger would stay buried. It’s too ferocious. Too consuming. And I wearied of the fight.

  Why shouldn’t I release my demons to feast on my enemies?

  And still you were there.

  I had to share my dark secrets with someone. Who else would I choose but you? The man who taught me the meaning of courage.

  But every good thing comes to an end. Not only did you force me to stop you from interfering in my vengeance, but I am at the end of my list. I saved your precious vet for the last. Not because her death was bound to wound you, but because she has proven to be such a disappointment.

  The others were selfishly cruel by nature. Like snakes slithering through the darkness, infecting the world with their poison.

  Lynne . . . She is a sweet caring woman. Someone who offers nothing but kindness in a world where no one else gives a damn. Then she proved she is as damaged as the others. She proved unworthy of my admiration.

  And that was more painful than all the others combined.

  She has to be punished. And, if I am honest, there has been an unexpected pleasure in watching her squirm. She senses me. She knows I’m near, but she can’t see me.

  I’ve savored her fear, and I regret that I don’t have the patience to continue the game.

  I’m once again invisible. Until I strike.

  Crimson blood stains the pure white snow. Life spills from warm to frozen. Don’t look. The pain is gone.

  Chapter 24

  Half an hour later, Lynne was entering Rudolf’s old house with a frisky King in tow. She’d fed and walked him around the block despite the frigid air. And while the dog was ready for a longer jog, she wasn’t prepared to risk his paws on the ice. Tomorrow she would take him to the office so she could spend her time between her appointments giving him the attention he needed.

  Lynne pulled off her coat and boots in the kitchen, then poured out a large bowl of dog food before going in search of Kir.

  She found him in a back bedroom that had been a study when Rudolf was alive. There was an old desk and a couple easy chairs, along with a dog bed the old man had never gotten around to throwing away. And in the far corner there was a glass case that held his prized fishing poles. At the moment it was stuffed with cardboard boxes Kir was shifting from one stack to another.

  “The box is here somewhere,” he muttered as she entered the room. “I should have marked what I put inside, but I . . .”

  “Kir,” she interrupted, moving to grab his arm.

  He sent her a startled glance. “What?”

  She firmly tugged on his arm, leading him out of the study and into the small living room. Then, halting next to the leather sofa, she pressed on his shoulders. “Sit down.”

  “But—”

  She pressed harder. “Now.”

  He sank onto the worn cushions, his expression impatient. “What’s wrong?”

  She stood over him, her hands on her hips. “You need to take a break.”

  “I can’t. Not while the killer is out there.”

  “And we’re here together, with the doors locked and King on guard duty.” On cue, the large dog galloped into the room, his tongue hanging out to drip slobber on the carpet.

  Kir arched a brow. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Dinner first.”

  “Okay.” He started to lift himself off the sofa. “I can—”

  She once again pushed on his shoulders. “Sit down and let me take care of it.”

  He sank back. “I didn’t get to the grocery store. There’s not a lot to choose from.”

  “I can manage.” She pointed a finger in his face. “You stay here.”

  His lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She turned toward the dog. “Keep an eye on him,” she commanded. King barked, then with an easy leap he was on the sofa next to Kir.

  Kir laughed. “Bossy,” he chided, rubbing an affectionate hand on King’s massive head.

  “Partners,” she corrected.

  His expression softened and a dangerous emotion smoldered in his impossibly blue eyes.

  “Partners,” he whispered.

  Sensations tingled through her body as she turned and scurried into the kitchen. She didn’t mind the desire that heated her blood. Making love with Kir was an uncomplicated indulgence that brought her nothing but joy. In fact, if all she had to think about was cold nights spent in the heat of Kir’s arms, everything would be perfect.

  But Kir presented all sorts of complications. Not only because he’d started making himself at home. He’d also wiggled his way into a part of her heart that was too vulnerable to deal with betrayal. He could very easily shatter her.

  After forcing herself to concentrate on warming the tomato soup and grilling two cheese sandwiches, Lynne carried the simple dinner into the living room. She smiled at the sight of Kir sprawled back in the cushions with King leaning heavily against him. His face was still tense, and there was a paleness to his skin that revealed the strain of the past few days, but at least he wasn’t pacing around with that frenetic impatience.

  She joined him on the sofa, and they ate the food in silence. It wasn’t fancy, but it was warm, and Lynne sighed as she swallowed the last spoonful of soup.

  Kir sat back to send her a lazy smile. “Not bad. Di
d you cook for your father?”

  “When he was home.” She thought back, surprised by the realization she’d rarely shared a meal with the older man. In fact, her most vivid memory was sitting in front of the television nibbling on a slice of frozen pizza. “I usually ate dinners by myself.”

  “Yeah, me too.” He reached to grab her hand, threading their fingers together. “Were you lonely?”

  “I didn’t think about it at the time. I understood his job was demanding, and I wanted him to take care of the animals. But I always wished I had brothers and sisters so the house wasn’t so empty.” She leaned toward him, breathing deeply of his male scent. “What about you? Did you wish you weren’t an only child?”

  He lifted her hand to press her fingers to his lips. “Until my mother remarried, and I had a brood of step- and half-siblings.”

  She didn’t miss the edge in his voice. “You’re not close to them?”

  “No. By the time my mom met her current husband and they started having kids I was in Boston concentrating on my career.” He shrugged. “And to be honest, none of us tried very hard.”

  It was sad, but Lynne knew it was probably inevitable after Kir had decided to stay with his father. The sheer distance meant he would never be close with his mother and her new family.

  “Once I asked Dad if he’d take my mom back if she returned to Pike,” she murmured. “He told me that you can fix broken things, but they’re never the same.”

  He held her gaze, brushing his lips over the back of her hand. “But you can learn from others’ mistakes and do better.”

  “Do you think it’s possible?”

  “With the right person.”

  A flutter of excitement clenched her stomach. It felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to tumble into a bottomless valley.

  Did she step back or take the plunge?

  She leaned close enough to rest her head on his shoulder. “How can you be certain it’s the right person?”

  “There’s nothing guaranteed in this life, but I know what my heart is telling me.”

  “What’s that?”

  He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “To grab on tight and refuse to let go.”

  The flutters became a flurry of exhilaration. She could barely breathe. “It’s . . .”

  “What?”

  “A little scary,” she admitted.

  His lips skimmed to nuzzle her temple, his arm wrapping around her. Then, without warning, he was scooping her off the cushion to settle her in his lap. “Of all the things that are scary right now, this is the only thing that feels right,” he told her.

  She snuggled against his chest, refusing to allow the thought of the killer to shadow this moment. Tomorrow they would once again be on the hunt. Tonight was for them.

  “I suppose that’s true, although I should warn you that my life is crazy even without a serial killer on the loose,” she warned. “I think one of the reasons my father never remarried was because he knew he made a terrible husband, and I’m just as bad. I miss dinners, sleep through movies, and show up to birthday parties covered in mud and smelling like cow dung.”

  His fingers trailed up and down her spine, igniting sparks of passion that made her quiver with longing. “I’ve eaten a lot of dinners alone, you can snore on my shoulder during any movie you want, and we’ll make a joint agreement to avoid birthday parties if you happen to be smelling dung-like,” he told her.

  “I’m serious, Kir.”

  He cupped her chin in his hand, tilting back her head to meet his teasing gaze. “Me too. I love you, but I draw the line at cow dung and birthday cake.”

  She jerked. There it was. The “L” word.

  “Kir,” she breathed.

  He smiled down at her. “I’m not taking it back. You’re just going to have to get used to having me around.”

  She licked her lips. “And if you decide you want to leave Pike again?”

  He lowered his head, capturing her lips in a slow, searching kiss. “You’ve taught me an important lesson, Dr. Lynne Gale,” he said against her mouth.

  Barely aware she was moving, Lynne lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck. “What lesson?”

  “Home isn’t a place,” he told her. “It’s a feeling.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. And in the end, it didn’t matter. Not when he gently laid her on the cushions of the sofa and stretched out beside her. King grumbled at being dislodged and padded into the kitchen. Lynne and Kir barely noticed his departure as their lips locked and their bodies pressed together in a fierce, overwhelming need.

  * * *

  Lynne woke to discover herself alone on the sofa with a heavy cover tucked around her naked body. She yawned, reaching for her phone, which she’d left on the coffee table. Almost six o’clock. How had she slept so late?

  A blush stained her cheeks as she recalled how she’d spent the previous evening. It’d been past midnight when she’d finally fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep. It was no wonder she’d overslept this morning.

  Tossing aside the blanket, Lynne pulled on her clothes and headed into the kitchen. She discovered a hot pot of coffee waiting for her and a recently fed King sleeping near the floor vent. But no Kir.

  Usually at this point, Lynne would be sending up a silent prayer of thanks that her lover had the good sense to slip away. She preferred to wake alone. It allowed her to avoid the awkward morning after.

  This morning, however, she knew beyond a doubt that Kir would never have left her without waking her to tell her where he was going. So where was he?

  Moving through the house, she tracked him down in the back study.

  Her breath lodged in her throat as she stood in the open door and studied the man who’d burrowed his way into her heart. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, but his hair hadn’t been combed and there was a shadow of whiskers on his jaw. His dishevelment did nothing to dim his potent masculinity. In fact, it only made him more attractive. At the moment, however, she refused to acknowledge the tempting tingles of awareness that spread through her.

  Instead she watched as he crouched next to a box, pulling out old photo albums and stacks of folders. “How long have you been up?” she asked.

  He jerked his head around, clearly caught off guard. Then a slow, inviting smile curved his lips and he motioned her to join him. “Not more than half an hour.”

  Moving forward, she knelt next to him. “What are you looking for?”

  He waved a hand toward the boxes that he’d lined up on the hardwood floor. “These came from my father’s office after he was forced to retire.”

  Lynne glanced in the closest box. It was stuffed with trophies and medals that were mounted in velvet cases. “He had a lot of awards.”

  Kir reached to touch one of the trophies. “He was a hell of a sheriff. I wish . . .”

  “I know.” She covered his hand and gave his fingers a small squeeze. “What can I do to help?”

  “Keep me company.”

  “I can do that.”

  Lynne watched in silence as Kir sifted through the various photo albums before turning his attention to the files. She understood how hard this was for him. He wasn’t just dealing with the sudden loss of his father. He also had to deal with the possibility that a lunatic had snuck into this house and struck the killing blow.

  It made it all so much worse.

  “This is it,” he at last said, flipping open the file to reveal a collection of newspaper clippings as well as sheets of typed paper.

  “What are they?”

  “The various reports from my father’s shooting.”

  Lynne made a sound of surprise. “He kept them?”

  “I tried to throw them away, but he insisted he needed to be reminded that he’d been injured performing his duty,” Kir said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “He told me it didn’t seem such a waste when he could cling to the belief that he’d been protecting the citizens of Pike from a
dangerous criminal.”

  “I suppose that makes sense.”

  Kir sighed. “It would have been better if he could have looked to the future instead of dwelling on the past.”

  Lynne nodded, thinking of her own father. After he’d broken his hip and realized that his days of being a vet were over, he’d made the sudden decision to leave the area. He’d told her it was because the warmer weather eased the pain in his joints, but she suspected he’d known it would drive him crazy to see her headed out to work every day while he was forced to sit in the office. Or worse, stay home and watch television.

  It was a shame Rudolf hadn’t chosen to find a way to keep himself occupied. As Kir had said, dwelling on the past had only intensified his need to drown his sorrows.

  “Easier said than done, I’m sure,” she murmured.

  “Yeah, and it didn’t help that he was in constant pain.”

  Lynne touched his arm in sympathy. “You were looking for the file because you think it has something to do with Rita being left in that specific alley?”

  “It’s a possibility.” He shrugged. “And right now I don’t have any other clues to follow.”

  “Okay.” Lynne couldn’t imagine what they would find, but Kir needed her support. That was exactly what she was going to give him. “We know your dad was called by the local liquor store to investigate a suspicious person.”

  He nodded, holding up a sheet of paper. “This is my father’s copy of his statement.” He read directly from the report. “At ten fifty-five p.m. a call came into the station from Gordon Gallen at the Hometown Liquor Store.”

  “Gallen?” Lynne questioned in surprise. She’d been too young when the liquor store had closed to pay attention to the place. Now she instantly recognized the name. It seemed an odd coincidence. “I wonder if he was any relation to Chelsea?”

  “Possibly her grandfather.”

  “I’ll ask Bernadine. She knows everyone in town.”

  Kir continued to read from the report. “My father arrived at the store at eleven fifteen and assisted Gordon to file a complaint, then he went to talk to the suspect.” He halted, forced to clear his throat. “That’s when the shooting took place.”