He held the door for her and stepped back when she reached him, his eyes cold and distant. Pushing her away. He didn’t want to hear about their past. She could read it in the tight set to his mouth, the way he held his arm so she couldn’t brush against it.
They were strangers now.
Strangers who had to discuss the man who’d almost killed her once and wouldn’t let her escape next time.
Chapter Two
Sean grabbed a soda from the fridge, pulled out a chair with his foot and sat down at the kitchen table. “Talk.”
Talk. God, there were so many things to discuss. And nothing to say.
Nothing except for Jimmy.
Kim sat down across from Sean and tried not to think about how much she wanted him to hold her. Just for a minute, so she could feel secure and loved and warm. Which was stupid. That was the reason she hadn’t wanted to come back. Falling into the trap of the familiar and the safe already, just like her mom had warned her.
A lump came to her throat at the thought of Joyce Collins, as it always did.
Sean fixed his gaze on her. “Jimmy Ramsey. A cop who wants to kill you. Tell me.”
Right. She could focus. She could think. With Sean sitting across from her, his gun on his hip, she wasn’t scared.
For the first time in eighteen months, she wasn’t afraid.
Exhausted to the point of numbness. Freaking out to be sitting across from the man she’d been thirty minutes from marrying. Saddened by the chasm between them and the fact that she’d caused it. But not fearing for her life. It was a start.
“Jimmy is…or was…a cop in L.A. Cheryl met him when he was working at one of the events I brought her to.” What a night that had been. Cheryl had been so excited at the chance to meet a Hollywood star, yet from the moment she’d seen Jimmy, she’d cared about nothing else. “He’s incredibly good-looking, and she was hooked immediately.”
He pulled out a notepad and jotted something down. “Keep going.”
His index finger on his left hand was crooked now, as if it had been broken and healed wrong. What had his life been like in the ten years since she’d left?
“Kim.” His voice was devoid of warmth or familiarity. He was nothing but a cop to her anymore.
As it should be. As she’d wanted. So why did she feel as though a black cloak had suddenly been wrapped around her soul? “Jimmy pursued Cheryl hard, and they were married two months after they met.”
“Two months? That’s not like Cheryl.”
“He was manipulating her, but I couldn’t talk her out of it.” How she’d tried. “It nearly ruined our relationship.” After more than six years of estrangement between her and Cheryl, she’d been too afraid to risk their tentative new friendship by lobbying against the marriage. “So I backed off.” What an awful, horrible mistake that had been.
“And then?” His eyes were intent on hers, but they were devoid of emotion. Empty of warmth. She didn’t recognize them.
She sighed. “Then Jimmy started beating Cheryl up.”
“Damn.”
Exactly how she’d felt the first time she’d seen the bruises on Cheryl’s arm. “After he put her in the emergency room, I talked her into leaving him. The women’s shelter slipped her out of the hospital before he even knew what happened.”
His pen was motionless, suspended above the paper with the stillness of death. Oh, nice analogy. How about the stillness of a snowman on a subzero day? That was much cheerier. No death analogies needed.
“And then he came after you?”
Kim shrugged, but she couldn’t stop the shiver that raced through her body. “He thought he could convince me to tell him where she’d gone.” Plus, he’d been pissed. Really, really pissed.
He set the pen down and leaned forward, his voice no longer quite as detached and clinical as before. “How did he try to persuade you?”
It took two deep breaths and supreme effort to block the image from her mind before she could answer. “A knife.”
He cursed, then shoved back his chair and yanked her to her feet. “Let me see the scars.” His eyes were no longer empty of emotion. They were hot and angry, and something buried deep inside her quivered in recognition of his passion.
She tried to pull away. “Forget it. It’s over.”
“I have to know what I’m dealing with.” But he released her arm. “If he was on your roof, it’s not over.”
Oh, God. Right. It wasn’t over. “So you do think…you think he was here?” Her voice sounded so weak and pathetic she hated herself. Why couldn’t Sean tell her that it had been some four-legged creature and that she’d been a paranoid fool? She lifted her chin and cleared her throat. She would not be Jimmy’s victim anymore. “Did you find tracks?”
Sean hesitated. “It could have been an animal. There are indications of a bear around the house and on the deck near the grill.”
“But you’re not sure?” Why couldn’t he be certain? Why couldn’t he say Jimmy had never been near the house? Dammit. Even a bear with rabies would be better than Jimmy.
“No, I’m not sure.” He cracked his jaw, the pop loud in the silent house. He still hadn’t regained his aloofness, his fingers twitching restlessly by his sides. “So do you have scars or not?”
She shrugged and didn’t answer. Her scars were her own private hell, thank you very much.
He slammed his fist into a cabinet as he turned away, leaving a raw dent in the wood from the high-school class ring he still wore on his finger. He rested his hands on the counter and dropped his head. She could see his shoulders rise and fall with his breath. Guess he figured out the answer to his question on his own. Bully for him.
After a long moment, he turned toward her. His face was reserved again, though he was struggling to contain the emotion rumbling in his eyes. “You didn’t tell him where Cheryl was, did you?” His tone assumed the answer she gave him.
“No. I didn’t.”
He nodded and she thought she saw a flash of respect cross his features. “Did he try to kill you?”
She swallowed. “Yes.” It was when she knew he was going to kill her that she realized she would never be like her mother and accept death as the easy answer. It was sort of difficult to get excited about finding the will to live, given the circumstances at the time, but a part of her was grateful that she’d discovered her strength.
A muscle ticked in his neck, but the rest of him was immobile. “Prison?”
“I testified against him. I put him away.”
Sean swore again and she shoved her trembling hands under her legs. How much did she not want to relive this nightmare? But she had to. She had to make sure that Sean understood the threat. Not Sean specifically, but the police in general. Because Sean wasn’t hers anymore. She’d made sure of that when she left. Apparently, she’d done a damn good job of it, too. Wasn’t she talented? Hah. She didn’t feel so good about her long-ago actions right now. All the more reason to get out of town and back to L.A. as soon as possible. “He got out on bail right away, and for the twelve months before the trial, he followed me around. Called me. Sent me e-mails. Befriended the guards in my building.”
Her mouth was too dry to swallow and she took Sean’s soda and drank from it. “His strategy was to scare me. Make me wonder when he would come back to kill me. It gave him power to know I was looking over my shoulder. To realize I was afraid to answer the phone at night or walk to my car after work.” She flexed her hands, making fists. “He got only six months in jail because of all the cops who testified as character witnesses. When they led him out of the courtroom, he looked right at me and mouthed the words ‘I will come for you.’” She raised her gaze to Sean. “He got out on parole yesterday.”
Deep terror settled in her bones and she knew Sean saw it by the anger vibrating in his eyes. Anger on her behalf? A tremble of something alive sparked inside her, but he averted his face and gazed out at the dark lake. “Where can you go tonight?”
Go? “
What are you talking about?”
“If he’s back, you can’t stay here.” He gestured around the house. “Look at all these windows and doors. No alarm. You won’t be safe.”
She glanced at the windows and a cold chill settled in her belly at the thought that Jimmy could be sitting a few yards away, watching her while he hid in the darkness. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“A hotel? A friend’s?” As if he didn’t care. Anywhere that would take her off his worry list.
And suddenly, she felt outrage roil up inside of her. She’d been quaking in fear for the past eighteen months. She’d given up the life she loved and traveled across the country to escape Jimmy, braving the memories of her childhood home, and now he was going to steal this last bit of independence from her by making her move into a hotel? Dammit! It was enough!
She smacked her palms on the table and glared at Sean. “I’m not running away again. I’m tired of changing my life because I’m so afraid. He’s been manipulating me for months and I’ve had it!” She sat straighter now, empowered by Sean’s presence and the fact that he’d found no signs of attempted forced entry or human footprints. “He probably wasn’t even here, or if he was, he had no intention of hurting me. He’s trying to twist my mind again and I’m sick of it!”
“Fine. Be sick of it. But you’re not staying here. Not until you get an alarm.” He frowned. “What about Max’s place? Why don’t you stay there?”
Stay at her dad’s house? Something twisted inside her. Something that felt like grief but was actually hate. She could tell the difference and it was hatred she felt for her father. “You didn’t hear about my dad?”
The lines around his mouth tightened. “I know about Max. I’ve been to see him in the hospital five times. I thought you could stay with Helen and the kids.”
“Stay with his wife? Are you kidding?” No way. No way. No way. Kim might have never met Helen, but she despised her. When Helen had married Kim’s dad three weeks after Joyce was buried, Helen lost the right to a fair trial. Guilty by association.
Disgust and betrayal snapped in Sean’s face. “You haven’t changed, have you? Destroyed everything ten years ago and you’re still doing it.”
What? He was blaming her? “I didn’t destroy anything. Max did.” The man didn’t even deserve to be called her father anymore. Max was impersonal and fitting.
Sean’s upper lip curled in disdain. “Max did nothing wrong.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “No one at the hospital mentioned you were in town. You haven’t even been to see him, have you?” The accusation was deep in his voice and she flinched.
Guilt flared up and she threw it back on him. “I just got here a couple days ago, so back off.” The excuse sounded weak, even to her. But what was she supposed to do? Admit how guilty she felt that she hadn’t rushed over there to get answers for Cheryl? So what if Kim didn’t want to see her dad? She had planned to check with the doctors without going to the hospital, but they wouldn’t give out information over the phone, even though she’d grown up here and should fall under the category of “trusted local.” She hadn’t been able to bring herself to meet with the doctors in person. What if Helen and her kids were at the hospital? What if Max woke up while Kim was in his room? What if she simply couldn’t handle the memories?
Dammit. She had to get over it. Go over to the hospital. Talk to the doctors. Cheryl deserved information.
“So you haven’t visited him.” He leaned back and shook his head in disgust. “What’s wrong with you? Your family used to be so close and now you won’t go see your own dad while he’s in a coma?”
Naked anguish wrenched in her chest. Okay, that wasn’t simple hatred. Definitely some emotional baggage in there. Crud. Being back in town was ripping through her defenses. “Don’t judge me.” Yeah, so what if she’d always been the first to hug her parents and used to drag Sean to Sunday dinner with the family every weekend? That was long gone now.
“Don’t judge you? You, the woman who took off on me without so much as a note. The woman who didn’t come back for her own mother’s funeral. You don’t even care that your dad’s in a coma. What the hell have you become?”
Emotions bubbled and raged inside her and she knew she would explode. Too much to cope with. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She refused to care enough to explode. This wasn’t her life anymore. After a moment, she opened her eyes. “I think you should leave now.” She strengthened her trembling voice by giving Sean a hard stare.
“I agree.” He shoved back his chair and stood. “Lock your doors.” His jaw flexed and a tendon bulged in his neck. “I’ll make sure there’s a drive-by every hour, but I doubt he’ll come back tonight.”
“Fine.” She followed him to the door. “Assign someone else to this case.”
“Believe me, I’m going to try.”
“Good.” That was what she wanted: Sean not in her house or her life or her dreams. Sean, with his cold, judging eyes. Sean, who was her history, not her present. “See you around.”
He shut the door behind him with extra force and she snapped the locks shut on her past.
KIM AWOKE WITH a start when she heard someone holler her name. Her heart leaping, she lurched to her feet and cracked her head against the bathroom sink. Oy, that hurt.
She pressed her hand to her throbbing skull. The bathroom had been the safest place in the house, with no windows and a good lock on the door, so that’s where she’d slept after Sean had left. Along with all the fireplace implements. Wrought iron, heavy and sharp, she’d lined them up next to her, ready for Jimmy.
Who had never come.
Someone shouted her name again and she glanced at her watch. Almost nine in the morning.
Daylight was good.
She stretched, feeling increasingly foolish as she recalled last night’s fiasco. How stupid had she been last night? As if Jimmy had made it all the way across the country to find her. If he really was after her, he’d spend time lurking around her work and her apartment in L.A. trying to locate her. It would take him a while to figure out that she wasn’t there. By that time, she’d have heard from Alan that Jimmy was stalking her and the restraining order would land Jimmy back in prison. Then she could return and all would be good.
Darkness always made the nightmares worse. You’d think she’d learn to control them. But no, she hadn’t and, thanks to her overactive imagination, she’d ended up dragging Sean to her house. All because Jimmy had managed to mess up her brain at the same time that he’d shoved that knife into her thigh. Throw in the guilt from avoiding the hospital when Cheryl was waiting for an update on their dad and it had made Kim even more of an emotional disaster, freaking out at the slightest sound.
Screw Jimmy. She was never going to be his victim again—not physically, not emotionally.
This morning, she was going to call the police station and tell Sean that the whole thing was a false alarm and to forget it. Because Jimmy wasn’t in Maine. At worst, he was still in L.A., stalking her empty apartment.
She would not live in terror anymore, and the first step was to admit that her fears were irrational.
The doorbell rang, and she almost smiled at the sound. How weird to hear that familiar tune after ten years. Last night, she’d been so obsessed with being murdered she hadn’t even noticed it, but today it struck her.
She kicked the fireplace implements aside and stepped into the hall. No one jumped out at her, but she still peered through the window before opening the front door, just to make sure Jimmy hadn’t marched up to the house. An elderly man with gray hair, leathery wrinkles and a faded Red Sox cap grinned at her.
Relief and happiness cascaded through her and she tugged the door open. “Eddie!”
He held out wiry, ancient arms and she accepted, hugging the man who’d been in charge of the boats at the Loon’s Nest for forty-three years.
The Loon’s Nest was the official name for the rustic vacation resort-slash-camp that had been in her dad’
s family for over a hundred years. The ninety-two cabins lining the shores of Birch Tree Lake were rented out every summer. With no kitchens or any sort of utility room, all the families ate at a central dining hall three times a day, and there were plenty of programs to keep the guests entertained: picnics on the islands, hikes in the mountains, softball games and more. Kim’s childhood home was on the outskirts of the camp, giving the family some privacy from the guests.
Her dad had moved out when he remarried, but he’d kept this house while he and Helen set up their cozy love nest a few miles away. The old home had sat fully furnished and empty, sustained by Max’s hopes that one of his wayward daughters would someday return to run the place.
And here she was. Back in the house. But it wasn’t on Max’s terms, and she wasn’t here to stay.
“Kimmy!” Eddie kissed her cheek. “I can’t believe you’re back.”
“It’s so good to see you.” She gave him a big hug, the scent of his pipe tobacco cascading back to her, a memory long forgotten. It made her want to curl up in his lap and listen to stories about the old days.
As a kid, she’d spent thousands of hours following Eddie around, sucking up all his knowledge about the lake and boats and nature. She adored him. God, it was good to see him.
Okay, so there was one good thing about being back in town.
“Come in.” She held the door open. “I want to hear all about everything.” As Eddie stepped inside, she stuck her head out and peered around. The woods were quiet, the underbrush jiggling from chipmunks. Birds were chirping, and a squirrel was running around with a pinecone in his mouth. No Jimmy.
Still, she bolted the door behind them. Yeah, he was probably hanging around her apartment in L.A., but it didn’t hurt to be careful.
“How did you know I was back?” She steered Eddie toward the kitchen table he’d sat at many times, then pulled a pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge.
“I’ve been watching the house. Figured you might come back when your dad got in the accident.”
Oh, crap. “Does everyone know I’m back?”
The Sharpest Edge Page 2
