Find Me

by Debra Webb

  Maybe too many bad breaks.

  "Is he after me?" Sarah prodded. "The devil, I mean." Wouldn't be surprising. Except that she didn't believe in the devil so he was pretty much wasting his time.

  "He's real. You must feel him."

  Now that was truly eerie. Or not. If Sarah had recorded the conversation and analyzed it, the comment was likely a logical progression of thought. "If you believe he is, then he is."

  "Wear the necklace." Matilda pushed away from the rock wall. "You're…" She cast around before meeting Sarah's eyes again. "He doesn't like you."

  He should get in line. "Thanks for the warning."

  "Gotta go."

  "Hey," Sarah called after her. The need to talk to this girl a little longer was suddenly a palpable force inside her. "I was about to have breakfast. You want to join me?"

  Matilda walked backward enough steps to say, "I don't eat breakfast."

  Sarah watched her bound off, hands stuffed in her coat pockets. She touched the necklace through her shirt. This kid knew something. She was clearly confusing what she knew with the stories she'd heard from her mother or even with the rumors about her great-great-grandmother. But, whatever she knew, Sarah had a feeling Matilda was close, very close, to being right.

  This killer was a devil… and the police weren't going to catch him unless he left a crumb trail.

  But Pope? Being rich didn't make him a murderer. What did Matilda know that she wasn't telling? Had her mother serviced him? Worked for him? Another scenario to investigate. The bitter cold wind cut through Sarah. She wasn't going to get any warmer standing there.

  Fifteen minutes later, she started up the steep drive to the Overlook Inn. At the midway point, a car rounded the upcoming curve. Stepping off the pavement, into the grass and snow, she waited for the black Infiniti to pass.

  Instead of passing her by, it stopped. Matilda's warning that the devil didn't like Sarah echoed in her ears. If the devil drove an Infiniti, he was making a better salary than her. Then again, he didn't live in Manhattan.

  Tinted glass slid down and the driver's face appeared. Dark sunglasses. Oakleys. Expensive taste.

  "Sarah, I left a message for you at the inn's registration desk."

  Speak of the devil. Jerald Pope. Sarah gave herself a mental shake. She could safely say that she hadn't expected him to show up. "Sorry I missed you." She gestured to the inn. "I was just on my way back." Duh. He could see that.

  The memory of him watching her across the treetops through his high-powered lens that night suddenly zinged her with a new kind of tension in view of Matilda's comments.

  "I wanted to invite you to dinner this evening," he explained. "If you don't already have plans. My family and I would be inordinately pleased if you could come."

  Was it possible he hadn't heard the news? She glanced toward town. "Are you sure tonight's a good time?"

  "I thought, considering the latest tragedy, you might like to have a night away from…" He inclined his head. "Away from the turmoil."

  What she really wanted was an opportunity to pick his brain… and his daughter's. Maybe even his wife's. And to see just what it was that bothered Matilda about the guy. "That would be nice. Thank you."

  "Seven?"

  "Seven."

  He smiled. "Excellent." Sarah watched him drive away. Interesting. Maybe Mr. Pope was simply doing the socially PC thing. But Sarah wasn't so sure. Everyone was a suspect. Even the rich boat builder and his perfect family.

  Rich people can get away with anything. Even murder. Renewed purpose infused her step. Good thing. The last stretch was straight up; by the time she reached the lobby her legs burned.

  There was no one at the registration desk again. Didn't matter. She already knew about the message Pope had left. If she had any more someone would let her know.

  She climbed the stairs a little slower than usual. Jammed the key into the lock and frowned. The door wasn't locked. She twisted the knob and let the door glide open.

  The gasp that echoed in the room sounded almost as surprised as Sarah felt. Melody Harvey, hands deep into a drawer, froze like a deer caught in a hunter's crosshairs.

  Sarah stepped inside, closed the door, and leaned against it. She'd been looking for this opportunity. Sometimes luck bothered to give her a hand after all.

  "I'm sorry." The girl's hazel eyes widened with fear, her face paled. She gestured to Sarah's bedside table where a note lay. "I came to leave your messages, in case no one was at the desk this evening when you came in."

  "That's very efficient of you." It was also a lie.

  Melody stepped away from the drawer she'd been rummaging through, humiliation overtaking the shocked terror on her face. "I'm sorry, Ms. Newton. Please don't tell on me."

  "Don't worry." Sarah pushed off the door, tugged her hood free of her hair, and tossed her bag on the bed. "I'm not going to tell."

  Relief flashed across Melody's face. "Thank you. I am so sorry."

  When she would have made a dash for the door, Sarah said, "I wanted the opportunity to talk to you, but I was never able to catch you at the registration desk."

  Melody stalled at the foot of the bed, bit her bottom lip. "My parents would totally freak out if they caught me… talking to you."

  Sarah crossed back to the door and locked it. "I don't think they'll look for you here."

  Hands wringing, Melody nodded. "Okay."

  "Were you friends with Valerie Gerard?" Though she went straight to the point with her question, Sarah took her time approaching the bed, then taking a seat, so as not to spook the girl. Melody looked ready to bolt, locked door or no. She nodded. "We graduated high school together." Melody had the same blond hair and hazel eyes as her younger brother. She was pretty, but not the kind of gorgeous Alicia Appleton had been.

  "Do you recall anyone ever being jealous of her? Like maybe when she won academic awards or spelling bees?" Admittedly, it was a stretch to expect anyone to remember that far back, especially when she wouldn't have been more than about nine years old.

  Melody shook her head before considering the question. "Valerie was kind of like me. Invisible. Not popular or athletic or anything."

  Sarah knew that place very well. "So, to your knowledge, no one had any problems with her, past or present?"

  Melody shook her head again but stopped midswing. "When she worked here last summer she had some kind of problem. She wouldn't talk about it, though."

  "She worked here?" That was news. "Only for a few weeks."

  Sarah was reasonably sure that if this interview took much longer the kid was going to twist her fingers right off. "If she wouldn't talk about it, how did you know she had a problem? You noticed something different in her behavior?"

  More lip-biting. "I… sort of walked in on her with my dad once. She was upset. Crying."

  Sarah's alert system kicked in full throttle. "Walked in where?"

  "The office behind the desk." Melody shrugged. "I asked my dad about it and he said Valerie wouldn't say what was bothering her. He told me not to bother her with it." She stared at the floor. "I don't think he was very happy that I interrupted. He was really worried about Valerie."

  Was this why the innkeeper was so rude to Sarah? Had tried to scare her off? He had a secret he didn't want her prying into? Well, well. That certainly shed new light on his behavior.

  "Did Valerie have something against your father?" That was about as close as she could get to asking if the two had been involved physically.

  Another wag of her blond head. "I don't think so. They usually got along fine. Valerie worked hard. My dad liked her. It was just that one time."

  "You're sure there was no one at school who especially didn't like Valerie."

  "Positive."

  "Not even the people who were up for awards and didn't win because Valerie did."

  "Nobody ever said anything."

  "What about at church? Did she have any problems at church that you know of?"

 
; Melody glanced anxiously at the door. "I should go before my parents come looking for me."

  "Bear with me, Melody," Sarah pressed, knowing she was losing ground. "Anything you can tell me might make a big difference."

  Her shoulders lifted as if she intended to shrug but didn't follow through. "She quit going to church, but I don't know why."

  Sarah scrutinized her face, her eyes. She was telling the truth. "What about the reverend's niece? Was she friends with Valerie?"

  Melody frowned, shook her head. "I don't think so. Tamara doesn't really have any friends. Lately she's been hanging out with Jerri Lynn." She glanced at the door again. "I really gotta go."

  Sarah stood and smiled. "Thank you, Melody. If you think of anything else be sure to let me know."

  Before Melody made it to the door, Sarah realized there were a couple of other questions she should ask. "What about Alicia? Did anyone have a grudge against her?"

  Clearly reluctant, Melody turned back to Sarah. "Not that I can think of." She peered longingly at the door once more. "I'm gonna be in big trouble if I don't get back downstairs."

  "One last question." Sarah jerked her head toward the open drawer. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

  The heat of embarrassment flooded the girl's face. "I…" She moistened her lips. "You're from New York." She shrugged. "I just wanted to see what kind of stuff… clothes you had."

  Sarah could see a teenage girl doing that, though she wasn't so sure this teenage girl was telling the truth. Particularly since her clothes were in the dresser, not the bedside table. "I hope you weren't too disappointed. I'm not a good example of the latest fashion trends."

  "I…"—Melody gestured to the door—"… have to… go."

  Sarah put her out of her misery. "Thanks for delivering my messages."

  A quick nod and the girl was gone.

  Sarah closed the door and locked it again.

  That was definitely strange. But Sarah wasn't worried about anyone going through her things. She knew better than to leave anything relevant to her conclusions handy.

  Two young women were dead. Most of the answers Sarah got when she asked questions were the same. How the hell could two girls with no enemies be murdered in a small town where everyone knew everyone else?

  So far the only two leads Sarah had on Valerie Gerard were the falling-out and/or relationship with her minister and some sort of tension with the innkeeper. Alicia Appleton, on the other hand, had only one potential enemy at this point. Jerri Lynn Pope, the would-be competition, if Polly's assessment was correct. If Brady Harvey was to be believed, Polly had been somewhat of a nuisance to Alicia. But Sarah was relatively certain Polly was harmless.

  The Pope girl Sarah could check out tonight. The innkeeper, she could talk to most anytime. The minister— considering he'd discovered Alicia's body—wasn't likely taking visitors. That had never stopped Sarah from showing up.

  The man would be extremely distraught. Particularly vulnerable to interrogation. Worked for Sarah. All she had to do was get past his Nazi wife.

  CHAPTER 24

  Living Word Church, 9:29 A.M.

  Sarah swerved into the church parking area and braked hard.

  An SUV, a police cruiser, and a sedan were parked in front of the reverend's home. The sedan was a rental.

  Lex August.

  Anger, hatred, and a couple other emotions Sarah couldn't readily define erupted inside her.

  He was here already. Interviewing the man who'd discovered the body.

  Dammit.

  She wouldn't be getting anywhere near the house at this point. A deputy was stationed outside. Sarah's name definitely wouldn't be on his access list.

  Surveying the street, she didn't see any sign of Conner's Jeep which meant he wasn't here. Had he been ordered off the investigation as well? That would make learning the facts a hell of a lot harder.

  "Shit."

  Fine. She shut off the engine and got out of the car. Waiting hadn't gone out of style. Neither had badgering. She knew how to do both.

  Leaning against her rental, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited. What she would give for a cigarette right now. The nagging need fueled her frustration.

  When Lex came out she would demand answers. She wouldn't get them but maybe a confrontation would cause him to screw up and let something slip. She could hope. That strategy had worked for her before.

  If it didn't, there was always bribery.

  Ten minutes. Twenty, then thirty passed. She didn't care if it took all day. She wasn't going anywhere.

  Snow and ice crunching beneath tires drew her attention to the lot behind her. Conner's Jeep pulled into a parking slot. He jumped out and headed her way.

  No surprise there. He was back on babysitting detail. Well, he could forget about it. She wasn't about to be distracted by him a second longer. Heat stirred deep in her belly as images from last night nudged their way into her thoughts.

  He'd given her a couple of orgasms. So what? He wasn't the first, probably wouldn't be the last. She owed him nothing. The same as he owed her.

  She banished the little voice that balked at her conclusions. This assignment, this man, was no different from any other. More determination was required to exile the denial that sprang instantly in reaction to that concept.

  Stupid, Sarah. Really stupid.

  "Sarah, we need to talk." That dark gaze plowed into hers. "Now."

  "Maybe later, Conner." She turned her attention back to the Mahaney home. "I'm busy right now."

  That didn't put Conner off. "You need to come with me. The chief is talking about a restraining order and I can—"

  The front door of the reverend's home opened and the chief stepped out.

  Sarah straightened. "It'll have to wait." Let the chief take out a restraining order against her. There were ways around that scenario, too. Truth Magazine had dozens of attorneys.

  She stared at the door. Willed Lex to exit before the chief spotted her.

  "Sarah—"

  The door opened wide again, cutting off Kale. Her breath evacuated her lungs.

  Special Agent Lex August strolled onto the stoop and down the steps, the black trench coat unwrinkled and gleaming like he'd only just pulled it off the rack at Nordstrom's.

  As if he'd sensed her presence, he turned from the chief and settled his gaze on her. Even across the distance of the small yard and broader parking lot, she felt the impact of his stare.

  "Hello to you, too," she mumbled. You bastard.

  "Sarah," Conner said, trying once more but failing to draw her attention. "You should come with me."

  "Not a chance." Her gaze didn't waver from the man now striding her way. "Bring it on, hotshot," she added under her breath. She'd waited three years, six months, and eleven days for this moment. Nothing was going to get in her way.

  Evidently deciding that he wanted no part in this, the chief opted to wait with his deputy. Just as well. This was between Sarah and Lex.

  "Well, well," Lex announced as he overtook her position. "If it isn't the truth seeker." He surveyed her up and down, blatantly displayed his abject disapproval. "How are you these days, Sarah? Still seeing that same shrink?"

  "Fuck you, Lex," she snarled. He laughed. Don't let him bait you. She reined in her emotions. Stay in control.

  "I'd hoped you had grown a sense of humor by now. I guess that isn't the case." He adjusted the striped tie that scrupulously matched his crisp navy suit. Not a dark hair out of place. Walking, talking perfection, total attention to every single detail.

  Too bad he was all show and no tell.

  Sarah made a sound that was nowhere near a laugh. "A sense of humor would be wasted on me," she tossed back, "just like that puny set of balls is on you."

  Fury ignited in the jerk's hazel eyes. "What do you want, Sarah? The chief doesn't want you involved in this investigation anymore." He glanced at Conner. "You should go along with your babysitter and play nice." The fury cleared a
nd arrogance took its place. "I'm sure you remember how to do that."

  That was when she lost her cool. She got in his face. Let him see the sheer hatred in her eyes. "I remember a lot of things, Lex. Some I'm sure you'd rather I not recall. Shall we play this that way?" She could take him all the way down. Seriously fuck up his glorious reputation.

  He chuckled, a dry, thoroughly unamused sound. "You just can't get beyond the past, can you, Sarah? You're scared to death you'll end up just like your mother."

  Sarah fisted her fingers. She wanted to slap his smug face more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life. But she wouldn't give him that. That was what he wanted. Something else to release to the paparazzi, to draw attention to her flaws. "I'm here about the case. My mother has nothing to do with this."

  "Ah, but she does." Lex stared at her mouth, made her want to puke, before meeting her eyes once more. "Your whole life is about the past. Hasn't your shrink told you that over and over again?"

  "What's your problem?" Conner stepped into the mix.

  Sarah blinked, glanced at the man who was suddenly at her side looking ready to tear into Lex. Great. She was sick to death of Conner's insatiable need to take care of her. She could damned well take care of herself. She didn't need him or anyone else to do the job.

  "Back off, Conner."

  "I see you're up to your old tricks," Lex said with a pointed glance at Conner. "There are other ways of gleaning information, Sarah. You don't always have to do it on your back."

  Conner had him by the lapels before Sarah could react. "What the fuck does that mean, asshole?"

  "I said back off, Conner." This was expressly why she should learn to appreciate vibrators. Men sucked when the testosterone kicked in.

  "Kale!" Chief Willard rushed in their direction. "Let go of Agent August, Kale." The out-of-shape chief of police huffed and puffed in an effort to catch his breath. "I don't think the two of you have been introduced."