Watching Whitney

by Jerri Drennen

  “Oh my God, Steve. Are you saying we have a serial killer in Marble?”

  “It’s a possibility, yes, but there’s more. These two women had something in common.”

  Whitney swallowed hard. Why did she know that what he was about to say had something to do with her? “What was that?”

  “They were both single mothers with dark hair and green eyes.”

  Whitney couldn’t keep the strangled scream from erupting from her chest. This was the reason Steve wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She was the killer’s next target.

  He pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried. This completely terrified her. She now didn’t want to leave the protection of his arms.

  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” he whispered in her ear.

  Whitney wiped at her tears and looked at him. “Was he planning to kill me the night of the break-in? What about Kylie? Is she in danger?”

  “As far as I know she isn’t. I won’t know for certain until I find out who the woman in the lake is.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “Get Flint to call in a few favors. I thought I could keep the murder quiet until I found the killer, but this has turned into something I never expected. Flint has a friend who’s a profiler with the FBI. He could come to Marble and help us catch this son-of-a-bitch.”

  Whitney leaned her head against his chest and sighed. “Why would a man want to kill a single woman with a child?”

  “If I knew the answer to that we’d have the killer. Maybe Flint’s friend could tell us what kind of man he is. That in itself might help.”

  “Mr. Schaefer?” Whitney said looking him square in the eye. “You think it could be him because he lost a child and maybe he thinks I’m unworthy of raising my daughter alone?”

  “It’s an idea. A flimsy one, but at least I have something. So far I can’t catch a break in this case. I tried to get a name off the number on that text you received, but got nothing. The cell phone couldn’t be traced back to anyone.”

  “Do you think the killer is somebody here in Marble?”

  “I hate to say this, but I hope so. Otherwise we’d be grasping at straws to find this guy.”

  • • •

  Steve jumped when someone knocked at the door. How had he managed to fall asleep? He eased off the sofa, careful not to wake Whitney who’d fallen asleep beside him. “Who’s there?” he said as quietly as he could.

  “It’s Flint.”

  Steve turned the bolt lock, released the chain, and opened the door.

  Flint walked into the cabin, glanced at the figure on the bed, and then at Whitney.

  “That’s — ”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Care to tell me how this happened?”

  Steve grinned. “You got all night?”

  Flint rubbed at his eyes. “If you put on a pot of coffee, I do.”

  Steve slapped him on the back and started for the kitchen. He felt wide awake now. He might as well drink some java and fill in his cousin on what he knew. Maybe there was something Steve had missed.

  As the coffee brewed, they sat at the table. “So tell me about Miss Dirty Look over there. How did you end up sharing a cabin with her and … ” he pointed to the bed, “is the child hers?”

  Steve told his cousin about all that had happened since Flint left for Washington and his concern for Whitney’s safety. When he described the similarities between Whitney and the woman found in the lake, Flint started. “Whoa, that’s heavy. Same coloring and a single mother. You think she’s his next target?”

  “I do.” Steve looked over at Whitney, relieved to see her still asleep.

  “Does she know?” Flint asked.

  Steve nodded. “I told her tonight because she threatened to leave. I couldn’t let her do that. I have a question for you, Flint.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You read the file on that woman from Idaho. What happened to her child?”

  “I believe she was found wandering out in a field.”

  “Did she have any recollection of who took her mother?”

  His cousin shook his head. “Not that I read.”

  “Could she be any help to us now? Have authorities tried hypnotherapy on her?”

  “You’d have to contact them on that. After nine years, I’m sure it’s a cold case.”

  Steve rose to pour them both a cup of coffee. He returned to his seat across from Flint. “Could you contact Bryan Sumner and see if he could fly down and help profile this case.”

  Flint rubbed his chin. “Are we to continue to keep this on the down-low?”

  “I’m afraid if we don’t, we’ll have the locals panicking.”

  “You’re probably right. I’ll call Bryan in the morning, see if he’s in the middle of a case. If not, maybe he’d be willing to come and see what he could do. He’s going to need a place to stay with the lodge booked.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I know a few of the locals. Surely one of them could put him up for a few days. Bill Fry and his wife are empty nesters. I’m sure they have an extra bedroom or two.”

  Steve took a drink of his coffee.

  “Are you sleeping with her?” Flint asked, his gaze honed in on his cousin.

  Steve shifted in his seat. He glanced at Whitney again. Her head was turned away. He hoped she still slept soundly. He didn’t want her to overhear their conversation. But his silence was all the confirmation Flint needed.

  “How’s that going to work?”

  “What?”

  “Her living here, you in Denver, or were you planning to give up city life and live in Marble?”

  “Of course not. You know how much I love Denver.”

  Flint smiled. “Yes, but women have a tendency to change things.”

  “I’m not going to fall in love if that’s what you’re asking. Now, could we drop this? It’s a moot point.”

  Flint raised his hands and smiled. “Consider it dropped. So, tell me about the locals. Anyone you think could be a killer?”

  Chapter Twelve

  The smell of something scrumptious permeated the air and Whitney opened her eyes. She looked toward the kitchen to find Steve’s cousin at the stove pulling a cookie sheet out of the oven. Biscuits? A man who could cook seemed to be a rarity, at least as far as she’d seen.

  She pulled herself up and stretched her arms above her head. Everything from last night came back to put a wrench in her appetite. Someone wanted her dead. Possibly a man she’d known for a long time. That alone left her feeling overwhelmed.

  The woman in the lake had been murdered by this man and had left a child motherless. She didn’t want that to happen to Kylie. What would become of her daughter if something did happen? Would Wyatt take her? The thought alone made her stomach rebel further. Her ex didn’t have a nurturing bone in his body. She’d never trust him with Kylie — not ever.

  “Good morning,” the dark-headed man said, drawing her attention back to him.

  “Morning.” Whitney looked over at the bed and jumped from the sofa when she saw that Kylie wasn’t in it. “Where’s my daughter?”

  “Relax. She’s outside with Steve. He didn’t want her to wake you. How about a cup of coffee?”

  Whitney glanced at the front door, then back at Steve’s cousin. “Sure.” She walked to the kitchen to take the cup he’d filled for her.

  “I was surprised when I arrived last night and saw you sleeping on Steve’s couch. The last time we met I felt a little tension from you.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. I thought you and Steve were … Forget it.”

  “You thought Steve and I were what?”

  “Nothing. It was stupid. Thinking about it now, I don’t know why I thought it.
”

  He quirked a dark brow. “I’m not following here.”

  “I thought you two were lovers.”

  Flint burst out laughing. “Steve’s a great looking guy and maybe if he weren’t my cousin and I wasn’t married I’d … Nope. We’re both straight — though I have been hit on by a man before. Then again, it probably doesn’t really count since he was planning to kill me instead of sleep with me at the time.”

  Whitney laughed. For whatever reason, she liked this guy. “You said you were married? Do you have any children?”

  He smiled. “Yes. We have a three-year-old daughter. She’s the light of our lives.”

  The sound of the door opening had Whitney turning to see Kylie barreling toward her. “Momma.” She leapt into her arms, almost sloshing her coffee. “Steve gave me a piggy ride.”

  Whitney glanced at Steve and a rush of heat coursed through her. They’d already shared their bodies, and yet she still could cut the sexual tension between them with a knife. She was afraid of what she’d started to feel for him. Nothing good could come of it — not when he intended to leave once he’d caught this sicko and put him away. Whitney had been hurt badly when Wyatt left. She couldn’t allow herself to feel that kind of pain again. No matter what.

  “Breakfast is ready.” Flint’s words drew Whitney from her troubled thoughts.

  Kylie wiggled out of her mother’s arms and slid to the floor. She raced to the table and snatched a biscuit. Thank God she had her daughter. She’d be enough for Whitney. Not many men wanted a ready-made family. If anyone intended to be a part of her life, he’d have to be a part of Kylie’s as well.

  She sat next to her daughter who now had a mouthful of biscuit. She took a long swallow of coffee, then placed the mug on the table and rubbed her thumb over the cup’s handle.

  Steve had joined them. The look of pity in his eyes crushed her. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel sorry for her. But then, what did she want from Steve Morgan besides her obvious lust of his body? An image of him stepping into her house at night, a look of love on his face, had her chiding herself for the thought. He lived and worked in Denver. He wasn’t going to change that for her no matter how fantastic the sex had been.

  “Would Bryan be up yet?” Steve’s question made her look at him intently.

  “Bryan?” she asked, not recognizing the name.

  “He’s the profiler I was telling you about.”

  “Right.” Whitney turned to Flint. “Do you think he’d be willing to come and help find this guy?”

  “If he’s not already on a case. Bryan and I go way back. We were rookies together at the academy. He went into the FBI while I followed my father and uncle into National Security.”

  “What does a profiler do?”

  “I think I’ll let him tell you that,” Flint said, looking at Steve, who nodded in agreement and turned toward Whitney.

  “If he comes, do you think Bill and Patsy could put him up while he’s here? The lodge is full and so is this cabin.”

  “I’m sure they’d love to have a guest. Their kids rarely come to visit. I’ll call Patsy and ask once we know for sure he’s coming.”

  “With that settled, let’s dig into breakfast. Dray made me take cooking classes with her when we were first married. She said she was tired of neither of us knowing how to even boil water. I think you should take a few classes yourself, Steve. You never know when it could come in handy.” He glanced at Whitney and winked.

  • • •

  Steve stood outside the rec center and paced in front of his SUV. Flint, Kylie, and Whitney were inside putting the cleaning supplies away. They’d all spent the day straightening the rented cabins before the guests returned. They were to meet Bryan in town at four.

  They were lucky to get him. He’d just finished profiling a string of murders in South Dakota so he’d been only a few hours away by plane. Steve doubted he’d have come if he didn’t owe Flint a favor. Why he owed him one was something his cousin refused to divulge. It had been from years past and Steve could only imagine. Before Flint married, he was quite the playboy. He could still remember the day he’d gotten the call that Flint had tied the knot — it had thrown him for a loop for sure. But after meeting Dray, it had become apparent why Flint had fallen for her. The two complemented each other perfectly.

  The door to the lodge opened and Whitney and Kylie stepped out.

  “Where’s Flint?”

  “He’s talking to his wife on the phone. Patsy called while I was inside. She said Bryan’s room is ready. She can’t wait to have him under her roof. They want us to join them for supper tonight.”

  “Another barbecue?” Steve thought he’d pass on the invitation. The last one had him sidestepping Bethany all night.

  “No. Just a small get together.”

  “So your friend won’t be joining us?”

  Whitney laughed. “No. Bethany is not invited.”

  “I’d like to keep what’s going on from the Frys if at all possible. I’m afraid it would be hard for them to keep the woman’s murder quiet.”

  Whitney frowned. “Bill’s already wondering why Bryan is coming.”

  “We’ll just say he came to town to join us for a weekend of fishing.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you’ll actually have to fish?” She gave him a lopsided grin.

  “Let’s hope not. I don’t think I could spend another minute on that particular sport without wanting to break the damn pole.”

  Flint stepped out of the lodge. “Are we ready to go?”

  Kylie jumped up and down. “Ice cream, mommy.”

  “Maybe later, sweetie. Right now we need to meet someone.”

  With Whitney and Kylie situated in the backseat, Steve started the SUV and headed toward town. He hoped Bryan could look at this case with fresh eyes and see something he and Flint missed. Even the smallest things could lead to something bigger. The brown hair in the sweater. The victim’s traits. The fact that she’d had a child. It had to somehow fit together. He’d stay at Whitney’s side and keep her from becoming victim number three.

  Steve glanced at his watch as he parked in front of Fry’s. Ten minutes to four.

  “Antiques,” Flint said, looking at the storefront. “Dray would be in heaven. Maybe I’ll find her something while I’m here. Our anniversary is coming up soon.”

  “Why don’t you all go inside and I’ll wait for Bryan.”

  “Are you sure?” Flint’s eyes sparked with excitement.

  “Go ahead.”

  Whitney shrugged and took Kylie’s hand and followed Flint inside. Steve leaned against his SUV and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down Main Street. A man stepped out of the drugstore and looked at him. Schaefer? Why did he get the coldest feeling when the guy was around?

  The man started toward him and Steve studied him closely. He had a slight limp as he walked. Could the woman in the lake have gotten in a good shot before he’d killed her? Could he be totally off base with the man? Maybe talking to him could shed some light on his suspicions.

  Schaefer reached the SUV. “Are you the detective the locals are talking about?”

  “I am a detective.”

  “You’re here on vacation?”

  “Yep.”

  “When you leaving town?”

  Steve shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I have another friend joining me for the weekend. Just killing time until he gets here.” Was that nervousness Steve saw in the man’s demeanor? “I hear that Whitney McAllister is staying with you. You two dating?”

  What should Steve say to that? Were they dating? Did sleeping together constitute as dating? He wasn’t sure.

  “Her house was broken into and I didn’t feel it was safe for her to stay there alone.”

  �
��Strange, but we had no break-ins before you came to town, detective.”

  The insinuation threw Steve for a loop. “You think I had something to do with it?”

  “Of course not. It was just an observation, that’s all.”

  “Right.” Steve took a cleansing breath. “Whitney tells me you and your wife run a consignment shop.”

  “Yes. The Rose Petal.”

  “How long you been in Marble?”

  “Eight-and-a-half years.”

  “Where did you live before moving here?” If the man said Idaho, he’d consider him a real suspect.

  “We spent three years in Nashville at the St. Jude’s Hospital.” He turned away and Steve could tell he struggled to get a handle on his emotions.

  “Whitney told me about your daughter. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Schaefer returned his attention to Steve, his eyes turning dark. “I don’t need your sympathy, detective.”

  Steve raised his hand in protest. “I meant no offense.”

  “Please don’t mention any of our conversation to my wife. She didn’t handle the loss well. She nearly had a breakdown after our daughter died.” He turned and left Steve standing with his jaw slacked. Why would the man think he’d talk to his wife about it? Steve planned to watch Mr. Schaefer, maybe have Flint run a check on him, just to make sure he was where he said he was nine years ago.

  A car coming toward him had Steve shaking the thought. He glanced at his watch. A little past four. It had to be Bryan.

  The car pulled into a slot across the street. The man opened the car door and got out. He stood at least four inches over six-foot with an athletic build. He wore a gray suit Steve couldn’t see himself wearing.

  Steve started toward him. “Bryan?”

  “You must be Steve?”

  “That’s me. Flint’s inside Fry’s Antiques. He’s looking for an anniversary gift for Adriana.”

  Bryan smiled and removed what looked to be expensive sunglasses. “While he’s busy, you can fill me in about this case. Flint told me that you have a match on the DNA from a murdered woman nine years ago.” He dug a notepad out of the inside pocket of his jacket. Did it say Hugo Boss on the tag?