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Her Mother's Killer

Page 12

by Schroeder, Melissa


  Jason, not Duncan.

  “He came to see you. No one will have you but me, do you understand me?”

  He emitted another sigh and hung up.

  She clicked the phone off. Before she could contemplate the meaning of the call, Duncan grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. His body heat surrounded her, warming her from the inside out. So many fears, but for the first time in a long time, she felt safe. She finally had someone to lean on.

  “What did he say?” he asked, his tone gentle.

  “He saw Jason.” The muscles in his arms grew rigid. “But I guess for some reason he’s never seen you. Or he doesn’t see you as competition.”

  “Shit.” He released her and started to pace the kitchen. “That means he was out there somewhere tonight. Could also mean it isn’t your ex.”

  “Duncan—”

  He shot her a look of impatience but never slowed his stride. “This game is getting a little too dangerous. I wish I could convince you to go back to Atlanta.”

  “No.”

  He stopped in front of her, all the warmth gone from his eyes. “I could tell Jed.”

  “Yeah, you could. But you know there’s a chance he’ll butt in and put himself at risk.”

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  “Duncan, we know anywhere I go, this whacko will follow me. I’m still not sure he wasn’t the one in Atlanta.”

  His steely gray eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “I have a feeling the jackass was behind that.”

  “Jason?”

  “Yeah.” He propped a hand on each hip. “He’d have a motive. He wanted the restaurant.”

  “He was getting it. We were going to sign the papers the day after the accident. If anything, the accident probably delayed any plans he had.”

  “Well…”

  “Nothing more to discuss.” She turned and began climbing the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

  Thea wasn’t really sure he would follow her or not. She worried he would be like Jason and shut her out after their fight. Anytime she showed any defiance, he’d ignored her for days at a time.

  Relief swept through her when he muttered something then clomped up the stairs behind her.

  * * * *

  The clatter of pans awoke Duncan the next morning. Rays of weak winter light seeped through the blinds.

  He took a deep breath. The smell of apples and cinnamon mixed with the lingering scent of spent passion. Instant arousal. Closing his eyes, he relived the memories of the last few nights spent in Thea’s bed. He’d give a month’s pay to have had her in his king-sized bed. Bone-deep satisfaction pulsed through his veins.

  From the noise drifting up from the kitchen, he knew Thea had to be cooking. He rubbed his stomach. He sat up, and looked around the room for something to wear. His jeans lay crumpled on the floor and he grabbed them up. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Duncan headed downstairs. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee intensified as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

  He stopped in the doorway, leaned against the doorjamb, and watched her. She was dressed in an old worn t-shirt that must have been black at one time but was some nondescript shade of gray. Black jersey leggings clung to her hips and rear end. Her hair looked as if her fingers combed it and her face flushed from the heat of cooking.

  He knew now why she’d been considered an artist. Every move was economical but graceful. She dipped a piece of bread into the batter and then tossed it into a frying pan. This was definitely her element. The cozy kitchen, the scent of vanilla filling the air, the small smile playing about her lips.

  He could stand there for a million years and watch her.

  The thought almost stopped his heart in his chest. He would never have guessed he’d fall for Thea. But he had. From the moment he’d seen her at the gas station, he’d wanted her. The problem was, he no longer just wanted her. He needed her.

  He pushed the uncomfortable feelings aside.

  “Smells good.”

  She yelped and turned around. “Jeez, Duncan. You scared me. Don’t go sneaking around like that.” She turned around and began to work again. “I thought I’d make some French toast.”

  He swallowed past the emotion welling up in his chest. Focus, Perry.

  “Sounds great and smells even better.” He walked up behind her, circled his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. He grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. He chuckled at the startled look on her face.

  A glance at the table told him she’d been looking over the files. “Did you find anything?”

  She turned and her eyes were confused until she saw him looking at the table. “No.” She resumed working. “Do you know where Barker is?”

  “No. But I’ll look into it this morning. I’ll call a few friends.”

  “A few friends?”

  She flipped the toast over and began dipping more. He sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. “Yeah with the DPS, one is actually a Ranger.”

  She grabbed a plate and put the two pieces of toast on it. After sprinkling it with powdered sugar, she set it on the table in front of him with a bottle of syrup. Vanilla and cinnamon wafted from his plate and he dug into his meal.

  “You know a Texas Ranger?” she asked.

  “Yeah, you do too. Rusty Reynolds.”

  She turned around. “Reckless Rusty Reynolds?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Reckless Rusty who got caught drag racing how many times?”

  “At least twenty.”

  “But…they let people with records like that in the Texas Rangers?”

  “No. Rusty never had a record.”

  “But…how—”

  “You don’t get a permanent record when your mom’s the mayor.”

  “You mean he was caught all those times and he never was arrested?”

  “All it amounted to was a little harmless fun.”

  “Harmless fun? Last race I heard about he totaled his brand new ’Vette.”

  Duncan shrugged. “He learned his lesson. It’s better than Vic Williams. He’s a doctor.”

  She set her plate on the table and sat in the chair next to him. “What is he, a gynecologist?”

  He chuckled knowing Vic’s outrageous flirting brought about that comment. “No. Heart surgeon. He lives in Dallas and I hear he and his life partner are very happy.”

  Her eyes widened and then she choked on her food. She coughed a few times and took a sip of coffee. “He’s gay? He dated every cheerleader and drill team member in school.”

  “Kind of explains his behavior, huh?”

  “Good Lord. Leave for a few years and everything changes.”

  They continued to eat in silence for a few moments but he knew he would have to break the light mood sooner or later.

  “Back to the files. Anything at all?” he asked.

  “No. You would probably know more about it than I do.”

  “Well, I think you should keep going through those letters and maybe you can find something that might point to one of these people. I just have a feeling we’re missing something here.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Agitated with himself, he stood and went to the sink to rinse off his plate. He knew Dailey held something back, maybe not evidence…something he suspected. He finished his task and turned to study Thea.

  “You doing okay?”

  She looked up from her plate. “Okay?”

  “Well, considering the situation.”

  “The situation? You mean having a homicidal stalker and my ex-husband bugging me?”

  “No. I meant us.”

  Her face reddened. “Us?” She cleared her throat. “What do you mean us?”

  What the hell is the matter with her? Most women loved talking about relationship crap. Why does she look embarrassed, like she wants to avoid the subject?

  “Us. As in Duncan and Thea. As in the two people who’ve been having sex.” His voice had risen with his anger.

  Her face
turned a brighter shade of red. “Well, yes we had sex.” She stood and went to the sink. “I just thought you were used to that sort of thing.”

  “That sort of thing?” he yelled. What was wrong with him? He never yelled.

  She sighed as she wiped her hands. “Duncan, you have a certain…reputation in town. If Chase is the flirt, you are the perpetual bachelor. You never get serious about anyone.”

  “That’s not true.” Okay, maybe it was a little true but it wasn’t polite to point that out. She should be clinging to him.

  “Yes. It is true.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and he was momentarily distracted by the gesture. He lifted his gaze to her face. Her eyes were serious, her mouth unsmiling. “Duncan, you don’t have to worry. You aren’t into commitment. I don’t want you pretending to be serious about me because you feel you have to. I’m not really looking for a serious relationship either. My marriage…well, it wasn’t the best as you know. I don’t want to run into another relationship on the rebound.”

  “Are you telling me I’m your rebound guy?” He’d played that guy before, but for some reason it left a sour taste in his mouth now.

  “Duncan. Stop it. I won’t have you trying to intimidate me.” She tipped her chin up a notch and placed her fisted hands on her hips.

  Feeling an emotion a little too close to fear, he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Honey, all I’m trying to do is save your ass. Close quarters is all this is about.”

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. Every bit of emotion drained from her face and her eyes turned cold and distant.

  “Thea, I didn’t mean… Jesus.” He sighed and reached for her. She frowned at him, but he ignored it. “I’m sorry.”

  She held herself still then a second later, she melted against him.

  He kissed her temple. “I didn’t mean it.”

  She looked up at him, and if he could reach his own ass, he would kick himself. The wariness had returned to her gaze.

  “Don’t worry about it.” She kissed his chin, then slipped out of his arms. All the warmth from their breakfast was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts in a cold kitchen.

  * * * *

  After Duncan left, Thea cleaned the kitchen and started to look over the letters to her mother again. But no matter how hard she tried, her mind kept drifting back to Duncan.

  Her only experience with sex had been with Jason. Never in the course of their marriage had it ever been that great. Sure, at first she thought it would improve but she knew now it never would have.

  At the time of their courtship and marriage, she’d thought they shared great passion. But Jason, already a police officer with the Atlanta PD, saw her as a meal ticket. She’d met him about the time she’d been named one of the up-and-coming chefs in the southeast US. He’d known she would make it big—she was already making good money. And she had thought the passion went both ways, but she knew now, after her nights with Duncan, that neither of them had felt it.

  Nothing had prepared her for Duncan, for the incredible yearning that welled up in her when she thought about him. From the start of her relationship with Jason, he’d complained that she didn’t seem to need him. Here she was less than three hours after Duncan left, and she was wishing he was home.

  As if conjured up by her thoughts, her cell phone buzzed and she knew it was him.

  “Got a dress for tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  His sigh was audible over the phone. “I have to go the Cattlemen’s Ball, and because I have to go, so do you. Michelson will be needed here, and with that going on, there will be problems. Drinking and cowboys always cause problems.”

  She didn’t want to go, didn’t feel like trussing herself up, but she knew if she refused, he’d have to make a choice between her and his duties.

  “I have a dress that should work.”

  “Good. Stay out of trouble.” Then he hung up. She should have been irritated but instead she smiled. She appreciated a man who knew what he was about.

  But she knew now she needed to work even faster. If she had to get dressed up—which would involve hose and makeup—she had less time to devote to reading over the letters.

  A few letters later, she noticed something in one of them that sent a chill through her whole being. The letter was dated a month before her mother’s murder.

  I watched you at that picnic. So happy, with little Thea and Jedidiah. I could see myself with you, completing the family. Your husband can never make you as happy as I can. I worship you. Do you think of me when he touches you?

  She shivered. She thought about her mother reading this note, knowing that bastard had watched them, thought these things. She shivered again.

  There was one thing she was sure of. The picnic he wrote of was her father’s birthday picnic. They’d had it one of the few times Jed had been back from college. It’d been at their house and was by invitation only.

  The bastard had come to her parents’ house as a friend and then killed both of them a month later.

  We’ll find him, she promised her parents silently. No matter what.

  * * * *

  Duncan looked over all the reports of murdered women. At least six women in the past four months had been killed in the area. All dark-haired, green-eyed.

  Knowing Rusty could give him some answers, he picked up the phone and called his old friend on his cell.

  “Hello,” Rusty said.

  “Reckless.”

  “Oh, Duncan.” He voice relaxed. “Whatcha doing at the office on a weekend?”

  “Caller ID, huh? Still can’t get used to that. You sounded a little irritated. Is this not a good time?”

  “Oh, no. I was worried something had gone wrong at home. You know, with Mom in her seventies—”

  “Oh, of course. Well, I’m calling for work. I need some help on these murders in the area.”

  Rusty sighed and Duncan could hear the tension in his voice. “Yeah. They have us a little baffled, too. There’s no DNA to link them, but the MO is exactly the same.”

  “All look alike?”

  “Yeah. Black hair, green eyes. Between five-four and five-six and late twenties to early thirties. The one strange thing is that although they were all shot, different guns were used with each murder.”

  “Hmm. Think they’re linked?”

  “Well, they look alike. They’re all dumped off on farm roads, shot. But nothing concrete to go by.”

  “Rusty, cut the BS.”

  “Off the record, yeah. Too similar.”

  “I have a theory I want to run by ya. You coming into town tonight?”

  “Of course. On my way right now. I’m Mom’s date.”

  “You lead a sad life, Rusty.”

  He chuckled. “At least I’m not going stag.”

  “Neither am I. Got a date. Of sorts.”

  “A date of sorts?”

  “Thea and I are going together.” Silence greeted his announcement. “Rusty?”

  “Still here, Dunc. You mean you’re dating Thea, Jed’s little sister?”

  He hoped Rusty didn’t get a hold of Jed before Duncan had a chance to explain to him just what the hell was going on, but he said, “I guess you could say that.”

  “Isn’t she married?”

  “Divorced. She’s the reason I’m looking into these murders. I think they may be linked to her mother’s death.”

  For a second or two, he remained silent. “Jesus, Duncan.”

  “Yeah. Drive carefully and we’ll hook up tonight.”

  He needed to find out what had happened to Hammond Barker. All he could remember was by the time he returned to Crocker, the Barkers had moved on to another parish. Other than that, he didn’t know the family very well. They’d had grown children who never visited and his family attended another church.

  Problem was, his mother would be the best source for information. Town gossip flowed through her like the Rio Grande af
ter a thunderstorm, but she’d want to know more. Gina walked past his door.

  “Gina.”

  She poked her head into his office. “Whatcha need?”

  “You remember Hammond Barker?”

  She leaned against the doorjamb, her brow wrinkled in thought.

  “Scary tall preacher with big horse teeth? He always drove that faded green Ford pickup.”

  “That’d be him. Have you ever heard what happened to him?”

  “Well, he left town that year of the Johnson murders. Went somewhere down south. I heard he was fired from the church. Something to do with improper conduct.”

  “Improper conduct?”

  “Yeah. Something to do with an affair or something like that.”

  “An affair?”

  She shrugged. “It’s been a few years. I do know he and his wife split after that.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Oh, my sister went to his church and the scandal was their main gossip for months.”

  “Aything else?”

  She frowned. “He’s been in jail.”

  “Jail? And you mentioned all that other junk first?”

  “I just remembered. Anyway, his lady friend split up with him and it seems he didn’t agree. That all?”

  “Yeah.”

  He turned back to his computer and started running down the lead. Thirty minutes later, he leaned back in his chair and thought about the implications. His stomach clenched.

  Hammond Barker had spent time in jail for stalking and raping his ex-mistress. Problem was, he’d been released from jail six months earlier and never made it to his first parole hearing.

  He’d vanished into thin air.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Thea pulled on her third stocking in two minutes and released a sigh of relief when she actually succeeded. Gwen would be there at any moment, and Thea still wasn’t dressed. Her nerves were frayed around the edges. Even though everyone they knew thought Duncan and she were meeting up at the dance as friends, she knew better. But she had to make sure no one, not her brother, Gwen, or the killer, knew they were involved.

  As she retrieved her dress from her closet, she thought about the fight she’d had with Duncan that morning. It really wasn’t much of one, but she knew if it had gone on, both of them would have been yelling at each other. And, as weird as it sounded, it didn’t bother her. She had seen her parents go head to head a few times. Not once in her whole marriage had she and Jason fought. Jason’s form of fighting was quietly freezing her out until she would apologize—even if she hadn’t done anything to apologize for.

 

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