See How She Runs (A Cape Trouble Novel Book 2)

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “That’ll be a tough sell to any judge.”

  “Have to try.” He glanced at Payne. “Since you’re here and look bright-eyed, I’ll have you knock on doors as soon as neighbors start stirring. One of them might have seen a vehicle parked or slowly driving the neighborhood in the past few days. Even someone walking up to the house. This guy would have had to case it. Tonight wasn’t his first visit.”

  Payne nodded.

  Sean said, “The rain didn’t let up until after midnight.” He probably didn’t have to say this, but he didn’t know Wilcynski well enough yet to leave something this important unspoken. “There almost has to be footprints.”

  “I’ll make sure they look.”

  “Then thanks. Some sleep will help.”

  “Good. I’ll see you when you can get in.” Looking energized, the lieutenant headed for the bedroom. Hey, without a recent homicide in Burris County, he’d been going cold turkey.

  “I’ll walk you out,” the other detective said, grinning when Sean let loose of a jaw-cracking yawn.

  They’d almost reached his vehicle when Jason said, “I just wanted to apologize because I’m kind of sticking my nose in here.”

  Sean looked at him in surprise.

  “I happened to be talking to Carol about something else, and she mentioned Walker’s call.” Carol being the dispatcher. He shrugged. “This sounded more interesting than the couple of homicide investigations I’ve been involved in. Thought I could learn something.”

  That made sense, and Sean understood his eagerness even though he knew most people wouldn’t. Women especially were either fascinated by what he did for a living in a way he found ghoulish, or they were creeped out and he could see them wondering when he’d last touched a dead body.

  He opened his door but stopped before getting in. “It’s good you jumped in. Unless this turns out to be something easy—” and what were the chances of that? “—you’d likely have been pulled in anyway. This way you’re already up to speed.”

  Jason backed away. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m being too pushy.”

  “Nope.”

  Jason was already loping up to the porch when Sean got in and started the engine. He rolled down the window, needing the cold air to keep him awake during the half hour drive home.

  *****

  Emily peeked through the blinds but saw nobody. She appreciated the kindness of her neighbors – really, she did – but sometimes all she wanted was to go out and get her newspaper or mail without having to make conversation. She could have anonymity if she were willing to sell the house and move to a city, where people ignored their neighbors. But this was Cape Trouble, and…she couldn’t leave this house.

  This early, not many people were up yet. She was blessedly alone when she walked the short distance out the gate in her picket fence to her mail and newspaper boxes. Clutching the paper, she heard a car engine and glanced to see the Subaru Outback turning into the driveway of the house next to hers. She’d heard her neighbor come home sometime after one in the morning, then leave again only a few hours later.

  A man got out, his gaze locked on her even before he slammed his door. He always looked at her with the same open intensity, part of what made her so uneasy about him. The other part was…she didn’t quite know. His size, maybe? He was a big guy, probably six foot two, if she had to guess, broad-shouldered and solidly built, his easy power visible in the smallest movement. His brown hair always looked unruly, as if he never combed it or had cowlicks winning the war. He was good looking, not that she had any intention of looking ever again.

  Mostly, she thought it was his eyes that disturbed her. They were bright blue, well-suited for his laser sharp stares.

  Usually, she would dip her head the minimum amount to be polite and retreat as quickly as possible without appearing to flee. But today, a gasp slipped out before she could cover her mouth with her hand. He looked terrible. Lines carved deep aged him a decade from the last time she’d seen him. Scratches decorated his face. What had to be two-day stubble shadowed his jaw. Exhaustion and something indefinable in his stance and eyes had her moving toward him before she’d had time to think.

  She stopped perhaps ten feet from him, the closest she’d been since the day he came to her door to introduce himself. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He blinked, mitigating the force of his stare, and rubbed his palm self-consciously over his jaw. “That bad, huh?”

  “Well…yes.” That was probably rude, but she couldn’t help herself. “I heard about the missing girl. Did…was she found?” She hadn’t been able to think about anything else all day. Usually she managed a few hours of sleep during the afternoon, but not yesterday.

  Detective Sean Holbeck’s hard face softened. “We found her. She’s okay. She threatened suicide, you know. Took her dad’s old Colt Revolver, but I guess she chickened out.”

  Emily closed her eyes momentarily. “Oh, thank God. I was so afraid—” Then she focused again on his face. “That’s how you got scratched.”

  “Yeah. We had to search the woods.”

  “Is that where you’ve been all night?”

  He shook his head. “Got in at one-thirty or so, then was called out again.”

  “In the middle of the night?” She couldn’t believe she’d said that. Of course terrible things happened in the middle of the night. They happened any hour of the day or night. Any minute. She of all people knew.

  She’d given something away. His eyes narrowed slightly. After the briefest of pauses, he said, “I work major crimes. This was a murder.”

  “Oh, no.”

  His mouth twisted. “You’ll be reading about it in the paper.” His eyes dropped to the one in her hand. “Not this morning’s. But by tomorrow.”

  “Was it…bad?” The idiocy of her question almost made her moan. Was there such a thing as a good murder? A so-so one?

  Her next-door neighbor gave no indication he thought the question to be dumb. “Yeah.” It came out rough. He didn’t seem to notice. “It was.”

  She wanted to run away, but didn’t let herself. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. As nights go, this one sucked.”

  “Except you found the girl alive.”

  “You’re right. Her parents were really scared.”

  She felt herself blanch. What had she been thinking, to talk about something like this?

  Sean took a step toward her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She edged backward. “Yes, of course. I shouldn’t have kept you standing out here. You must be exhausted.”

  She could tell he was thinking about her reaction, but he didn’t comment on it.

  “I’m going to grab a bite and then get some sleep,” he admitted.

  “Okay. Um…I hope you sleep well.” Her heel caught a crack in the sidewalk and she had to do a quick two-step to stay on her feet. Now her cheeks were undoubtedly flushed.

  Sean Holbeck hadn’t moved. He kept standing right where he’d been, still watching her.

  But I don’t have to keep watching him. She nodded, which was what she should have done in the first place, and turned away to march the last few steps to her gate.

  “Emily.” His voice just reached her.

  She paused with her hand on the latch. “Yes?”

  “I can’t help wondering. I hear what sounds like a machine running in your house, often through the night.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. Does it bother you?”

  He shook his head. “Only because I can’t figure out what I’m hearing.”

  “I’m a quilter. It’s my sewing machine.”

  “Ah.” One corner of his mouth lifted in an almost-smile. “Thank you for solving the mystery.”

  “You’re welcome.” She opened her gate and entered her yard, protected by shrubs that would soon be in bloom. Even so, she saw him cross his own yard in a few strides and let himself into his house.

  She felt…raw as she climbed the porch steps
and slipped into her own house. She tried so hard not to feel any more than she could help. Worrying about that poor, troubled teenage girl had lowered her guard. Perhaps because of what he did for a living, her neighbor’s gaze seemed to penetrate it effortlessly. He made her feel vulnerable, something she couldn’t allow.

  No more neighborly sympathy, she told herself. Or neighborly anything else. Not where Sean Holbeck was concerned.

  Agitated more than she wanted to admit, she went to the room where she stored fabrics, already envisioning a wall-hanging quilt. Browns and deep greens to suggest dense forest, but touched by shafts of golden sunlight. Or were they flashlight beams in the night?