by Cindi Myers
“I agree.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “Go home now and change.”
“Yes, sir.” She glanced at Tammy. “What about her?”
“She lives with her parents here in town. I’ll call them in a minute and they can come pick her up. She should be safe there, but I’ll put a reserve deputy on the house tonight, just in case. Be back here at seven o’clock.”
“Yes, sir.” She hurried from the room, buzzing with excitement. She might be able to catch these killers—tonight.
* * *
“YOU’RE BEING AN IDIOT,” Nate mumbled to himself as he grabbed his crutches and swung out of the cab of his truck. He had just pulled into Jamie’s driveway. It was six thirty at night. Her car was in the driveway, and most of the windows of the house were lit up, so he was pretty sure she was home. She’d probably be furious to see him. He should leave her alone. But, knowing she was going out there tonight, possibly to face a serial killer—or more than one serial killer—he couldn’t stay away.
He positioned the crutches under his arms and paused a moment to look up at the house. The place didn’t look that much different than it had when he was in high school, at least in the dark. The same stone lions sat on either side of the steps leading up to the wide front porch, and the same wooden swing hung from the porch rafters. He and Jamie had spent many hours on that swing, sometimes making out, but mostly talking, about everything. He hadn’t been able to talk to anyone like that since. Maybe it was only as a teenager that a man could be comfortable baring his soul that way. Or maybe he could only do it with Jamie.
He clumped his way up the walk, navigated the steps, crossed the porch and rang the doorbell. It echoed loudly through the house. “I’ll get it!” a voice shouted, followed by the thunder of running feet on a hardwood floor.
The door opened and Donna peeked out. “Hello,” she said, then held the door open wider. “Come in.”
Jamie appeared behind her sister. She caught the door and held it. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I just wanted to talk, okay? Please?”
Reluctantly, she let him in. “I don’t have much time,” she said as he moved past her. “I have to be at the sheriff’s department at seven.”
“I know what you’re going to do tonight,” he said.
“I’m going to do my job.”
“You’re sure dressed up for work,” Donna said.
Nate let his gaze slide over the short blue dress, with its low-cut neckline and full, swirly skirt. It was made of some soft fabric that hugged her curves, and the skirt stopped several inches above the tops of the tall black boots she wore. A sudden pull of attraction caught him off guard.
“Donna, I left my purse upstairs,” Jamie said. “Could you get it for me, please?”
When Donna had left them, Jamie turned back to Nate. “Why are you staring at me that way?”
“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” he asked.
“Yes.’
“You’ll have on a coat, right?”
“My car has a heater. I don’t want these two to have any doubt that I’m a young woman.”
Yeah, there was no doubt of that. “You should wear a vest,” he said.
Her eyebrows rose. “You mean a tactical vest?”
“Yes.”
“These two use a knife,” she said. “They don’t shoot people. And they slit throats. A tactical vest wouldn’t be any help at all.”
“You don’t know they don’t have a gun.”
“They didn’t use it on Tammy today. If they had one, you’d think they would have.”
“Tammy? Is that the woman who got away from the killer? Travis got the call while he was at my house.”
“Killers. There are two of them.”
“What happened this afternoon?” he asked. “You can tell me—I’m part of the team and I’m going to hear about it in the briefing tomorrow morning anyway.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. She probably didn’t realize how much it enhanced her cleavage. Nate shifted, hoping she didn’t notice the effect she was having on him. “Aren’t you on medical leave?” she asked.
“From my Parks and Wildlife job—not from the team that’s hunting this killer. I can sort data and do research with one foot in a cast. So what happened to Tammy? And Tammy who?”
Jamie glanced up the stairs, then lowered her voice. “Tammy Patterson—the reporter for the paper? She stopped to help a woman who flagged her down. Only it wasn’t a woman—it was a man in a wig. A second man came out of the woods and grabbed Tammy and he and the one dressed like a woman tried to wrap her up in duct tape. Tammy fought like a wildcat and managed to get away.”
“She was lucky.”
“Yes. And she may be our lucky break. I’m really hoping we catch these two tonight.” She took a step back. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here.”
“I just—” He shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d feel better if he could pace, but that was impossible on crutches. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful.” He couldn’t believe how lame he sounded, but he hadn’t thought this out very well—he had just gotten in his truck and started to drive, and ended up here.
“I’m not an idiot,” she said.
“I know that. But neither are these killers.”
“Why do you care, anyway?” she asked.
“Because I do.” Their eyes met and the heat in her gaze rocked him back. Jamie might say she couldn’t stand him, but that was not what it felt like right now. He leaned toward her. Another half second and he would have to kiss her. She looked like she wanted to kiss him back. He just needed to be a little closer...
“Here’s your purse. It wasn’t upstairs, it was on the kitchen table.” Donna came into the room, the purse dangling from her wrist. Jamie looked away and Nate suppressed a groan of disappointment. “Are you going to stay with me while Jamie goes out?” Donna asked.
“Nate isn’t going to stay with you,” Jamie said. “You’re going to Mrs. Simmons’s.”
“I could stay with her,” Nate said. “I don’t mind.” And he’d be here when Jamie got home, to make sure she was all right.
“Yay!” Donna clapped her hands. “Do you like to play cards? We can play cards.”
“Donna, I don’t think—” Jamie began.
“Really, I don’t mind,” Nate said. “Let me stay.”
“Pleeeease!” Donna put her hands together as if praying. “I don’t want to go to Mrs. Simmons’s all the time. I want to stay here.”
Jamie blew out a breath. “Okay.” She frowned at Nate. “I guess I will feel better, knowing she’s with you.”
“She’ll be safe with me,” Nate said. If he couldn’t look after Jamie, at least he could look after her sister.
* * *
“THIS FEELS REALLY WEIRD,” Jamie said, as she drove slowly along County Road Two, constantly scanning the side of the road for any sign of life. The afternoon’s snow had stopped, and the plows had left fresh drifts on the roadside that reflected back the glow from her headlights.
“Imagine how I feel.” Dwight Prentice spoke from his position on the floorboard of the back seat.
Jamie grimaced, remembering the awkward contortions required for the six-foot-three deputy to hide in her car. “We’re passing that neighborhood Tammy mentioned,” she said.
“The place where she pulled over is around the next big curve,” Dwight said. “By the time we got there, the new snow had almost covered the area. By now the plows will have wiped out everything—not that there was anything to find. We didn’t see so much as a hair or a button.”
Jamie cruised slowly past the spot, where yellow crime scene tape fluttered from roadside brush. “We haven’t even passed another car in ten minutes,” she said.
“When you can find a place to turn around
, go ahead and do so,” Dwight said. “We’ll make one more pass past that neighborhood. Pretend you’re looking for an address. If you don’t attract any attention after that, we’ll call it a night.”
“Maybe Tammy getting away scared them off,” Jamie said, as she pulled over onto the shoulder and prepared to turn around.
“They can’t have gone far,” Dwight said. “The highway out of town is still closed.”
She swung the car around, then gasped and slammed on the brakes as her headlights lit up the figure of a man on the side of the road. He put up one hand to shield his eyes, then hunched over and turned back toward the woods. Jamie shoved open the door and bailed out of the car, her Glock already drawn. “Stop, police!”
Jamie heard Dwight move in behind her. The man, who wore a fur cap with earflaps and sported a full beard, dropped two items and raised his hands over his head. “Don’t shoot,” he pleaded.
“Get on your knees,” Dwight ordered. “Hands behind your head.”
The man did as asked and Dwight moved in closer, Jamie behind him. She nudged at the rifle the man had dropped and what she now recognized as a hand-held spotlight. The first rush of adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a sinking feeling. “Who are you, and what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” he asked.
“It’s only nine o’clock,” he said.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The man—who up close looked to be at least seventy—looked away and didn’t answer.
Dwight rummaged in the man’s pocket and pulled out a wallet. He flipped it open and read. “Mitch Oliphant.” He looked at the man. “What were you doing out here, Mr. Oliphant?”
Again, no answer.
Jamie nudged the spotlight with her toe. “It looks to me like you were spotlighting deer,” she said. “Which is against the law.”
“You ain’t no game warden,” Oliphant said.
No. The local game warden was currently at Jamie’s house, babysitting her sister.
“In fact, how do I know you’re even a cop?” Oliphant continued. “You sure ain’t dressed like one.” He leered and she suppressed the urge to tug on her short skirt.
“We can still enforce the law,” she said. “How long have you been out here tonight?”
“There’s no law against being out at night. I was taking a walk.”
“With your rifle and a spotlight?” Dwight asked.
“I couldn’t find my flashlight. And a man’s got a right to defend himself, with that crazy killer running around.”
“What do you know about the killer?” Jamie asked.
Oliphant glared at her. “Nothing.”
“Have you seen anyone else while you were taking your walk?” Jamie asked. “Anyone at all?”
“No. Can I get up now? Being down on the ground like this hurts my knees.”
Jamie and Dwight exchanged glances. “You can get up,” Jamie said. “Slowly.”
“At my age, that’s the only speed I got.” Grunting, Oliphant rose to his feet. “Are you gonna keep me standing out here in the cold all night?” he asked.
“Where do you live?” Dwight asked.
“The address is on my license.” Oliphant stared at Dwight, who didn’t back down. Jamie focused on the two, trying to ignore her freezing feet and wishing she had thought to get her coat from the car. “I live out on Fish Camp Road,” Oliphant finally said.
Jamie gaped. That had to be at least eight miles from where they were standing. “Did you walk all the way from there?”
“No. My truck is parked up the road about a quarter mile.” He jerked his head toward town.
“We’ll let you go if you promise to go home and stay there,” Dwight said. “Don’t be out here at night where you don’t have any business.”
Oliphant muttered something to the effect that it was a free country and turned away, but Jamie called after him. “Mr. Oliphant?”
He glanced back at her. “What?”
“Do you come out here often? Walking?”
“What’s it to you?”
“You might be able to help us. We’re looking for a woman—a tall blonde. A couple of people have seen her out here, walking along the road. She told one woman who stopped to help her that she had a boyfriend who beats her. We want to make sure she’s all right.” It was close enough to the truth.
The lines between Oliphant’s brows deepened. “I think I saw her, once. But when she saw me, she took off—right into the woods, like a scared rabbit.”
“Did you get a good look at her?” Dwight asked. “Do you think you’d recognize her again?”
The old man shook his head. “I only saw her for a few seconds. She was tall and thin, with a lot of blond hair, all hanging down in her face.”
“Where were you when you saw her?” Jamie asked.
He looked around them. “I don’t know. Somewhere around here. I can’t remember.”
“When did you see her?” Dwight asked.
“A week ago? Maybe more.” He shrugged. “It was just a few seconds. I didn’t mark it on my calendar or anything.”
Jamie glanced at Dwight. He shook his head slightly, indicating he didn’t have anything to add. “All right, Mr. Oliphant, you can go,” Jamie said. “If we have any more questions, we’ll be in touch.”
He picked up his rifle and the spotlight, then shuffled away, down the shoulder of the road. Jamie got back into the car and turned the heat up to high. Dwight slid into the passenger seat. “What do you make of his story about the blonde?” he asked, as she turned onto the highway and headed for town.
“It sounds like these two troll for women pretty regularly,” she said. “The guy dressed up in the wig is the bait to get the women to stop, then his friend comes out of the woods. Together, they subdue and kill the women.” She shuddered. “Creepy.”
“Travis is going to get a police artist with Tammy and see if we can get a portrait we can circulate,” Dwight said.
“He probably only wears the disguise when they’re out hunting,” Jamie said.
“Maybe the artist can give us an idea of what the guy looks like without a wig.”
“Maybe.” She yawned. “I hate that we didn’t lure them out tonight.”
“You didn’t hesitate when we saw Oliphant,” Dwight said. “That was good.”
“I knew you had my back.”
She drove to the sheriff’s department, where she and Dwight made their report to the sheriff, then she headed for home. It was all she could do to stay awake for the drive. The tension of the day had drained her. As she pulled into the driveway, she saw that someone had left the porch light on for her. The door opened while she was still standing on the porch, fumbling for her keys, and she walked in—right into Nate’s arms.
Chapter Ten
The strength of Nate’s embrace felt so familiar—so right. Jamie closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder, breathing in the clean, masculine scent of him, feeling as if she could let go completely, and he would continue to hold her up. “Tough night?” he asked after a moment, his voice low, his warm breath stirring her hair.
She lifted her head and looked up at him. “We didn’t see the killers,” she said. “We stopped and questioned an old man. I think he was spotlighting deer, but we couldn’t prove it, so we had to let him go.”
“Who was it?” Nate asked.
“Mitch Oliphant.”
He nodded. “I know Mitch. And yeah, he was probably spotlighting deer.” He frowned. “Did he do something to upset you?”
“No. I’m just tired. Seeing Tammy this afternoon and then going out there tonight—it’s a lot to take in.”
“You’ve had to be strong for a long time.” He smoothed his hand down her arm. “You’ve carried a lot of weight on your shoulders for the past few years. I’m s
orry I wasn’t there for you then. But I’m here for you now.”
His words—and the meaning behind them—were more seductive than any sexy love-words. She prided herself on standing on her own two feet, but sometimes—times like tonight—it was so hard. To be able to lean on someone else, just for a little while, was a luxury she craved the way some people wanted sex or money. She stared into his eyes, trying to figure out the catch to his words—to figure out what he expected from her in exchange for his help. But she saw nothing but tenderness, and allowed herself to let down her guard just a little.
Just long enough for one kiss. She closed her eyes as his lips met hers, letting her body soften and mold to his. They kissed as if they had been apart only a few hours instead of seven years. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss and he tasted both familiar and new. She had missed this—this closeness, this communicating without words, this swell of desire and need and the promise of fulfillment. She had been here before with him, and yet she wasn’t kissing a boy this time but a man, with a man’s power and knowledge and patience. The thought thrilled her and had her wondering if they could sneak upstairs to her bedroom without Donna hearing them.
She eased back slightly and opened her eyes. He was smiling—a look filled with triumph. That gleam of victory set her back on her heels. She shoved away from him and raked a hand through her hair, trying to think. “Hey.” He reached for her. “It’s okay.”
“No, it is not okay,” she said. Her heart hammered and her buzzing nerves left her feeling shaky and off-balance. “This is a mistake. A big mistake.”
* * *
“YOU’VE GOT TO give me something to do.” The next morning, Nate leaned on one crutch in front of the sheriff’s desk and pleaded with Travis. “I’m going nuts sitting at the house staring at the walls.” With nothing else to occupy his mind, he kept replaying that kiss with Jamie. He’d finally broken through the wall she had erected between them, and she’d let him know she still cared for him—and the next thing he knew, she’d been shoving him out the door, muttering that she “couldn’t do this,” deaf to his pleas for an explanation.
