“I just wanted … one normal evening … in the company of a beautiful woman.” He sighed. “I wanted to think I might have a chance with you, in spite of my problems.”
Oh, yes, he sure knows all the buttons. But the other voice, the one that made her feel like warm jelly, squelched caution. He was just too damn close.
His kiss was gentle at first, then more invasive. As before, in the Buckhorn parking lot, something compelled her to blink. This time it was the sound of the patio door sliding open. Looking over Rogart’s shoulder, Diana saw Lori standing in the doorway. The look on the girl’s face reminded Diana of something. Oh, yes. It was how her own expression felt the day she’d caught Greg and Cathy.
Diana tensed and pulled back slightly. Don’t jump as if you’ve been caught doing something … wrong.
Rogart turned in the direction of her glance. “Lori, hon, where’s Keith?”
“At the lake. I came back to use the bathroom.”
“It’s upstairs on the right.” Rogart smiled at his daughter, appearing impervious to the poison darts flying from her eyes.
Lori headed for the stairs, her eyes averting Diana’s.
How did he know?
He turned toward Diana. “I had to find it earlier, while you were getting dinner on. I didn’t want to bother you.” He paused at her deer-in-the-headlights expression. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Diana shook her head. “Of course not. It’s just that the guest bath is on the left … and there’s a powder room by the front door.”
“Oh,” said Rogart. “I thought that was a closet.”
They both turned toward the sound of a door slamming upstairs.
Rogart sighed. “She’s not used to seeing me close to someone. Like that.”
You think?
He put an arm around her again and tried to draw her to him. But now the attraction had been extinguished for Diana by a pair of angry thirteen-year-old eyes. She pulled away before he got a good grip.
“We shouldn’t upset her,” whispered Diana, as if Lori could hear.
“She’ll get used to it,” he replied.
Get used to what? “You daughter has some major problems you need to address before you even think of—”
“Dad, I just saw a giant raccoon.” Keith’s voice cut short Daina’s words as he clattered through the patio door, tracking mud across the pristine kitchen floor.
“Keith,” admonished Rogart, “you forgot to wipe your feet, Son.”
“It’s okay,” said Diana. “Not a problem.”
“But he was awesome, Dad. Do we have a gun with us?”
Over my dead body. “There’s no hunting allowed here, Keith,” said Diana.
Lori came back into the room looking as if she’d been crying. She quickly took Rogart’s hand, positioning herself between him and Diana. “Dad, can we go now?”
Rogart hugged his daughter, then gave Diana a smile and a shrug. “Guess I’d better get these two home. Everything was great, Diana.”
“I’m so glad you came.” Diana felt herself blushing. Great word choice, Diana.
“Keith, you need to use the bathroom before we start out?” asked Rogart.
Keith shook his head. “Uh-uh. I went at the lake.”
Oh, jeez. Diana pasted on a smile.
“By the lake, not in the lake,” Keith explained.
“Well, I do need to make a pit stop,” said Rogart. Detaching himself from Lori’s grasp, he headed toward the stairs.
Keith, looking wired from visions of a raccoon hunt, bolted out the patio door. “Bye, Diana.”
Lori stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up in the direction her dad had taken. Diana felt a let-down, as any chance she might have of reaching the girl slipped away. She was now the enemy in Lori’s eyes.
“Lori, maybe next time you’d like to bring Trisha along,” she ventured.
Lori’s eyes widened. “Uh, I don’t think so.”
“Thanks again for everything,” said Rogart.
Diana hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. “Oh, wait. I’ll get the trust instrument for you.”
“Next time.”
Next time?
Rogart didn’t kiss her goodbye. How could he with his daughter clinging to him again?
Do I really want a next time?
Then Rogart and Lori went outside to retrieve Keith. From the living room window, Diana watched them pile into the truck. As he held the door for the kids, Diana saw Rogart look in her direction, then kiss his daughter on the top of her head. She wondered what it was about this simple, tender act that made her skin crawl.
Curled up in a wing chair, Diana rehashed the evening. She’d half expected Rogart to bring up some new legal problem, but he hadn’t asked her for a thing. Could it be he was really interested? Wasn’t it to be expected, after all, for a molested teen to cling to the only parent she had left? But, wasn’t it insensitive of Rogart to introduce his children to a new woman when his wife might still be alive?
But she’s been missing for months. How long is he supposed to wait?
Wait? Ha! Don’t forget Jess … and how many others?
Her feelings were all over the place as she climbed the stairs and entered the master bathroom. She stopped at the sight of an open tube of her lipstick smashed on the countertop. As she looked up, the word slapped her in the face. There on the bathroom mirror over one of the dual sinks someone had written in lipstick: BITCH.
Chapter 27
Diana had been in bed about an hour when the phone rang. “Hello.”
“Lori didn’t mean it.” Rogart’s voice was low, apologetic. “I waited till they were in bed to call you. I can imagine what you must think.”
“I think you used poor judgment to kiss me when there was even a chance your daughter might witness it.” She marveled at her ability to be rational when he wasn’t in the room with her.
“I know,” he said. “She hasn’t given up on her mom coming back.”
“But you have?”
She could hear him sigh. “I looked for her. How do you think Joe ended up with my kids? I was out combing those woods for their mother. When Lori turned up, I didn’t know it till the next day. They took her and Keith to their grandparents’.”
Her memory flashed back to their lunch at the Buckhorn, when she’d asked this question and he’d diverted the conversation. Leave it alone, for now. Instead, she asked, “Are you getting any counseling for Lori?”
“Counseling?”
“She was raped. You can’t just pretend it never happened. Her mother is missing. You’re all that’s left of her world. Lori needs professional help.”
He didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his tone had a detached quality. “She doesn’t look on it as rape. She thinks she loved him. And he loved her.”
Diana felt the flush of anger rising up her neck to her cheeks. Love? “I hope you’ve set her straight and explained that love is not like that. I’ve read the police reports.”
His reply was calm, not exactly sarcastic, but Diana could imagine his eyes cold as he said, “You think it would be helpful for Lori to think of herself as a victim?”
“I think it would be helpful if someone explained to her that a married man old enough to be her grandfather locking her up in a shack and having sex with her is not love.” She expected Rogart to hang up at this point. He couldn’t help but hear the fury in her voice, could he?
“You are so good at putting things into perspective. I was hoping, when the time is right, you could talk to Lori. Woman to woman.”
She’s not a woman. She’s a child. “You think? Considering that she holds me in such high esteem?”
“I don’t mean any time soon. We’ll have to take things slow.”
“What things are you talking about? I’ve explained to you that I can’t be your attorney.”
He cut her off. “Our relationship has nothing to do with your giving me legal advice.”
“We don’
t have a relationship.” She enunciated the words slowly, with as much conviction as she could muster.
“But we will, Diana. Goodnight for now. Sleep well.”
“Wait—”
But he’d hung up. Her mind was screaming. Why didn’t he clean off the mirror? Why would he want me to see it? Didn’t he know how it would make me feel?
Chapter 28
Diana couldn’t shake the creepy feeling the evening had dumped on her. Rogart’s explanation of the writing on the mirror—blaming it on Lori—didn’t feel right. Lori was probably disturbed and confused. But would she be brazen enough to go through my personal belongings and leave a message like that?
Finally she decided that waiting until morning to clean off the mirror was not an option.
After she removed the offensive writing with glass cleaner, she still felt wide awake. She wanted to call Jess and run it all past her. A pregnant Patty Strickland turning up at Darren Rogart’s was a biggie. Why hadn’t he let Jess know? For all he knew, Jess was still out there looking for the girl.
Diana picked up the phone in spite of the hour, then replaced it. I’ll have to tell her about his being here for dinner. She’ll have my ass on a platter.
You’ll have to call her eventually.
In the morning.
But Diana felt beyond wired. Her mind raced around the Rogart maze with no out in sight. How could he let his daughter go on thinking rape was an expression of love? He almost seemed to condone what happened to Lori. What kind of father could think like that?
She remembered Joe Flannigan’s outrage when he spoke of the assault on his granddaughter. Was that really all for show?
Why didn’t Rogart express any of the usual sentiments she expected from the parent of a rape victim? He’d been quick enough to condemn his father-in-law as a child-molester. Something about Darren Rogart didn’t track.
But the feel of his lips, the smell of him … the look. Oh, what delight it would be to flaunt him in front of Greg. See, you asshole, somebody does want me.
She shook her head to clear the childish vision. You are pathetic!
Maybe a warm shower. That usually does it.
Tig rubbed around her bare feet as if he wondered what she was doing up at midnight.
“I am a whole person,” she said to her naked reflection in the clean bathroom mirror.
She turned on the hot water, flipped the ceiling fan switch, then stepped into a steaming shower. She scrubbed as if she were washing Rogart off her skin, out of her heart. It felt like the right thing to do.
After drying her hair and putting on fresh PJs, Diana slid into her plush robe and looked for Tigger. He didn’t come to her call. She could hear his mau coming from downstairs.
Without turning on the lights, she followed Tigger’s voice to the kitchen. Then a noise against the side of the house sent her scurrying to a kitchen window. Nothing but the black night against a white vinyl fence illumined by her security light. Activated by a motion sensor. She’d closed the cat door for the night. Had the cat somehow gotten it open? “Tigger?”
“Mau.” The yellow tabby came strolling in from the laundry room. “Mau.”
“Was that you banging on your cat door?” asked Diana. “Wanting out?”
“Mau.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” But he wasn’t out, and banging on the cat door wouldn’t set off the motion sensor. She clutched the green velour robe around her, suddenly chilled. As Tigger rubbed against her leg, Diana reached down and picked him up, holding him close as she walked into the dark living room.
Outside in the street she saw the rear end of a silver truck as it pulled away from the curb in front of her house.
Flannigan? She dropped Tigger and hurried back into the kitchen. Jess’s number was on speed dial. She pushed it.
Jess answered on the third ring. “Diana?” A pause as the significance of the hour flushed sleep from her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Flannigan was here again,” said Diana. “I think he tried to break in.”
“Call the cops. They’re just over on Quincy. They’ll get there before I can.”
“He’s gone now. What could I tell them? My sensor light went on, and then I saw the back end of a silver truck?”
“Are you sure it was Flannigan? Remember, there are two HUNTER trucks.”
“Do we know that for a fact?”
“We do. I checked out HUNTER 1 and it’s registered to Joe Flannigan. HUNTER 2 still comes up Larry Strickland.”
“There’s something else, Jessie.” Diana’s voice shrank to a whisper.
“Spit it out already.”
“Darren Rogart was here this evening. With his kids.”
A disgusted snort from Jess. “Jesus, Diana. DIdn’t you listen to a thing we said the other night? Winston will be so pissed.”
“Okay, okay. I was supposed to return his trust document.”
“Did you feed him … and the kids?”
“Yes, but—”
“Is he still there? Is that why you’re whispering?”
“He had his kids with him. Of course he’s not still here.” Diana growled.
“Just asking.”
“Jess, Patty Strickland’s at Darren’s. He claims she found him. And she’s pregnant. Due any day.”
“So he doesn’t need me anymore. God forbid he should call and let me know.” Jess paused. “No way was she whoring on Colfax in that condition. Having me go there was a setup for sure.”
“I’d bet on Flannigan,” said Diana. The words jumped from her mouth, the negative thoughts on Rogart cancelled out by the sight of the silver Ram. “He could’ve had somebody leave that message for Darren. The sick bastard probably blames us for his losing the grandkids.” Part of her was screaming, You’re defending Rogart again. He’s still got his hooks in you.
“How would he even know Darren had hired me to look for Patty?”
“Flannigan probably talks to Keith and Lori. Darren can’t watch over them every minute. One of them may have let something slip.”
“You’re pretty quick on the draw to defend him,” said Jess, a cynical note creeping into her voice. “What makes you think Darren’s kids know he hired me? Why would he tell them?”
“He probably wouldn’t, but they could’ve heard him on the phone with you. They’re not stupid. Lori seems quite fond of Patty. The kids know her as ‘Trisha.’ I’m not defending Darren. I think he’s got some problems. But Flannigan’s the real sicko.”
“Psycho?” asked Jess.
“I don’t know.” Diana thought again of Rogart’s odd response to Lori’s rape—the love connection. “My gut feeling is that neither Rogart nor Flannigan is fit to parent a child.”
“Woo,” said Jess. “That must’ve been some dinner. He feed you raw meat?”
“In his dreams. I’d like to turn it all over to Children’s Services, but I don’t have anything other than questionable comments.” Diana paused to think. “What I’d really like is to interview Rena Flannigan when her husband’s not there to intimidate her. What do you think?”
“I think you have an overactive imagination,” said Jess, her tone going slack.
“Wh … at?” The sound of Jess hanging up on her jolted Diana into a twilight zone.
Sleep out of the question, she went downstairs and put on a pot of coffee.
Twenty minutes later Diana’s doorbell rang. She looked through the peephole in the front door. Jess looked back at her.
As Diana opened the door, Jess put an index finger to her lips, then drew Diana out onto the front porch in the 1:00 a.m. chill. “I think your house may be bugged,” whispered Jess. “Let me take a look before you say anything more. We already know there’s more at stake here than simple child neglect.”
“Child neglect is never simple.”
“Just shut up, will you? Let me take a look around.”
“What would even make you think that?” Diana whispered.
“P
rocess of elimination. You haven’t been robbed. Or attacked—yet.”
“Thanks, Jess. I really needed to hear that.”
“If Flannigan heard you say something that compromised your professional integrity, he’d have something to use against you to get even.”
“Even if he did, he couldn’t use it in court.”
Jess rolled her eyes. “Get in the house. Quietly, please. I’m gonna check for bugs, okay?”
“Whatever.”
Diana watched Jess return to her car and grab a couple of small, black cases. Bug detectors? The idea seemed implausible, even for Joe Flannigan. She patiently followed Jess back inside the house.
Jess took a small device out of one of the cases and began walking slowly from room to room. Diana followed close behind. “What’s that?”
“What do you think?” Jess snapped at her. “Go sit somewhere. You’d make a flea nervous.”
Diana ignored her and continued to follow, eyeing the little black box for some sign of life. None appeared.
After the full tour, Jess stopped and turned to her. “The good news is I can’t find any bugs.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“If somebody hooked up a lineman’s telephone to your line from the outside, then removed it when he was done, there’d be no way to ever know for sure.”
“Oh, great.” Diana remembered the time Greg had walked in on her shortly after they’d separated, claiming the front door had been unlocked. Could he have been messing around, trying to spy on her? No immediate purpose came to mind. Why hadn’t she gotten the security system repaired?
A cold chill filtered through her warm robe. “I’ve had the feeling—several times in the last few months—that somebody had been in my house. I’ve discounted it, just chalked it up to fallout from the shitload that landed on me last November.”
Jess returned the bug detector to its black case and regarded Diana soberly. “You’re entitled. Are you still having those … feelings?”
“The last one was after I woke up from a nightmare. I thought I heard a crash of something breaking. I thought it was in the dream until I went in the bathroom and found my L’Air du Temps bottle broken. Tig was looking kind of guilty, so I assumed … but that bottle’s been on the tub shelf since we moved in. Tigger never bothered any of my stuff before.”
The Trophy Hunter Page 12
