Echoes of Terror

by Maris Soule

  He put the clipboard he was holding down and came toward her. “How are you doing, Katherine? I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”

  “You were fine.” She laughed, remembering the thump she’d heard and Vince’s story about the bear running into the side of the house. “I guess Cora was right, a white bear is a good omen.”

  “I thought that critter was going to be my demise.”

  “Well, between that bear hitting the house and my grandfather tipping his chair over, I had a chance to get that gun out of Charles’s hands. That made a big difference in how things turned out.”

  “I hope Misty and Sarah keep quiet about who actually shot Bell. But, what about you? When this is all cleared up, will you still have a job, Officer Ward?”

  “I don’t know.” When Gordon arrived at the house, he’d been angry enough to fire her on the spot. Only after he saw the girls and heard their stories did his mood seem to change. Even so, it wouldn’t really be Gordon’s decision. The chief would be back soon, and Gordon’s report would be on his desk. She’d acted against orders, and that wasn’t something either man could overlook.

  “Will you be here when I come back?”

  “I can’t leave my grandfather.” But, without a fulltime job, she wasn’t sure how they could stay in Skagway.

  “I can understand that.” Vince touched the side of her face, and Katherine liked the feeling. “I think your grandfather could probably teach me a thing or two about fishing.”

  “At least until his mind completely goes,” she said, hating what Alzheimer’s did to a person.

  “Which means I’d better not waste any time.” Vince leaned closer. “Katherine, I’d like to get to know you better.”

  “I’m . . . That is, I—” She started to back away, then stopped herself and looked into his eyes. Maybe it was because she knew Charles was dead, or maybe because she’d seen how Vince treated the girls, or maybe it was the tingle that ran through her whenever he touched her, but her usual reluctance to get involved wasn’t there. “I’d . . . I’d like to get to know you better, too.”

  She knew he was going to kiss her, so she wasn’t surprised when his lips touched hers. What did surprise her was the warmth that flowed through her body, the sense of elation that filled her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders—his broad, wonderful shoulders—and kissed him back.

  He looked as shocked as she felt when he drew back. His gaze intense and his voice husky, he said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few days or weeks. What do you say we make a date. One month from today. Five o’clock at that saloon this town is famous for.”

  “The Red Onion?”

  He nodded. “If for any reason I can’t be there, I’ll let you know. You do the same. But, if you simply decide this isn’t a good idea, don’t come, and I’ll understand.”

  “And, the same with you,” she said. “One month from today. Five o’clock. The Red Onion.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  5:00 P.M., one month later

  So here she was, sitting on a bar stool in The Red Onion, calling herself a fool. She hadn’t seen or heard from Vince during the past month. No phone call, no letter. Not even an email.

  He’s not going to show, she told herself, once again glancing over the crowd in the bar. Nervously, she turned the stein of beer she’d ordered around in her hands.

  Vince had flown into Skagway once that she knew of. Both Gordon and the chief told her they’d talked to him. But, that was the day she’d been in Juneau with her grandfather, seeing a specialist that had given her little hope regarding Russell Ward’s deteriorating memory.

  Of course, she hadn’t contacted Vince, either. Oh, more than once she’d started an email, but, each time, she’d hit the delete button rather than send. Everything she wrote seemed so trivial.

  She saw no sense in writing him about Crystal. Katherine was sure Vince, with his connection to Tom Morgan, knew everything she knew, if not more. And Gordon had told her Vince was able to reverse the money transfer that Vince’s partner had initiated, and that Vince’s former connection with the FBI had gotten them involved in the search for Bob Lilly.

  So what could she write about? The alarm at the jewelry store downtown that kept going off, but always proved to be a malfunction? The campers at the RV parks who’d been drinking too much and had to be told to keep the noise down? She was sure Vince would be thrilled to know she’d made one DUI arrest during the month and drove Cora to the clinic after she fell while leaving the police station.

  Vince might have been glad to know the white bear was finally found and tranquilized, and had been carted off to a more remote location, hopefully never to return to Skagway. Being a police officer in Skagway was not that exciting . . . not since the demise of The Beekeeper. But hell, she was still on the force, albeit on probation, and she’d had enough excitement to last a lifetime.

  Katherine checked her watch. Five fifteen.

  He wasn’t coming.

  Damn him.

  Not that she cared, she told herself. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t interested in romance. She didn’t need a man.

  She looked at her watch again.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she heard behind her, and felt her heart leap in her chest. Holding back a smile, she slowly turned on her bar stool.

  Vince stood before her, feet slightly spread apart and hands on his hips to counter the press of the patrons that clustered near the bar. His head had a newly shaved shine, as well as his face, and she saw a flash of appreciation as he gave her a quick up and down, very male look.

  “Couldn’t get a taxi from the airport,” he said, as if answering an unasked question. “I had to walk.”

  “If you’re looking for sympathy, you’re not going to get it,” she said, not quite sure how to react. “It’s only three blocks.”

  “Got in late, too. With Bob out of the picture, I’ve really been busy.” He smiled. “Damn, you look good.”

  Katherine was glad to hear that. The dress she had on had cost her a small fortune, but somehow she didn’t think meeting him in jeans and a sweatshirt would be any more appropriate than being here in her uniform. And, she’d needed a new haircut, something a little more feminine. Getting dressed up and wearing makeup didn’t mean she’d spent all day praying he would show up.

  Oh, who did she think she was kidding?

  “You look pretty damn good yourself,” she said and slid off the bar stool and into his arms.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Maris Soule majored in art in college, but her love of books led her to writing. Although she grew up in California, a redhead with blue eyes talked her into moving to Michigan. (For just two years, he said.) Way too many years later, she’s still living in Michigan with the same man, not too many miles away from their two grown children and two granddaughters. (But she and her husband do sneak down to Florida for the winter.) In addition to her twenty-six published romances, romantic suspense, and suspense novels, Soule has had three mysteries published by FiveStar/Gale/Cengage. Several of Soule’s books have won awards and many are still available as e-books, and in other forms. For more information, check out her website: http://www.MarisSoule.com.