by Jane Godman
“If Moreton made a connection between these killings, how come no one else did? Why don’t the local police seem to know anything about it?”
“Maybe they do. It could have been kept out of the press for a reason.” Laurie felt wrung out with tiredness from thinking about it all. It was like playing some horrible nightmare on a loop inside her mind. “You’re the mayor of Stillwater. The chief of police answers to you and your fellow councilors, so it seems safe to say he knew nothing. When it comes to the sheriff’s department, Grant Becker is your friend, so perhaps he wasn’t able to—or didn’t care to—discuss it with you because of Carla.”
Cameron looked unconvinced. “If you’re right about this, Moreton was taking a huge risk. And look what happened as a result. It could have been you on that cabin floor.”
“I wonder why it wasn’t,” Laurie mused.
“Pardon?” Cameron had raised his beer bottle to his lips, but he lowered it again abruptly.
“I never thought of it until now, but, just before you arrived, I was alone in the cabin with the killer. Moreton was dead and I was in the bedroom. I heard someone coming toward me. Yet, at the last minute, he didn’t come in there after me. He turned around, snatched up my laptop and left by the window. Why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?”
“Just be grateful he didn’t.”
“I am, but there must be a reason. I’m his next target, he had me at his mercy, yet he did nothing about it. If we knew why that was, it might take us a step nearer to him.” Laurie smothered a yawn. “Oh, Lord. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m tired, too. Let’s get some sleep. We may get some answers in the morning.” He rose to his feet, looking down at her. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone tonight.”
Something in the atmosphere had changed. It wasn’t just the switch she’d sensed earlier in him from distance to acceptance. This was like there was too much electricity in the air, sucking the breath from her lungs and leaving her giddy.
“Your room is just next door.” Laurie’s voice sounded husky to her own ears.
Cameron held out a hand, and powerless to resist, she took it, allowing him to draw her to her feet. “That’s not what I meant.” His sigh was resigned and confused at the same time. She sensed he was waging an internal battle. “I’m supposed to be angry with you, not half-crazy with wanting you...”
He released her, but only so his hands could tangle in her hair. It seemed as though the battle was over. He looked like he didn’t know whether to be unhappy he’d lost. Gazing into her eyes, he sought her acceptance of what was about to happen. In response, Laurie rose on the tips of her toes, pressing her body to his, and was caught up in the shimmering intensity of his mouth on hers. Cameron’s tongue slid slowly over Laurie’s lips, moistening them and urging them to part for him and, with a soft sigh, she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to enter her body. Warm, intimate, caressing, thrusting, mirroring other movements she dreamed of him making; the touch of his tongue made her moan. Instantly, he deepened the kiss, his hand cradling the back of her head, angling her closer to him. Laurie felt her nerve endings go wild. His kiss told her a hundred things she already knew. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her. More than that. He hated how much he wanted her. Hated that she stripped him of every defense he had and left him breathless. But wanting her was bigger than anything he’d ever known. It was searing him, consuming him, driving every other emotion out of him so all he could think of was her. His kiss told her all of that. When they broke apart, her breath was coming as hard and fast as his.
Cameron ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. There was a trace of regret in his eyes. “I was going to offer to sleep in here tonight, but after that, I think it might be a bad move. I can’t imagine we’d either of us get much sleep, can you? And I’m not sure we’re either of us ready for more than this.”
Trance-like, Laurie shook her head. Part of her wanted to step back into the circle of his arms, but he was right. Even though she knew it cost him every ounce of restraint he had to say those words. This was too much, too soon. They neither of them knew what this attraction was all about. And after the start this relationship had gotten off to, sex was a complication they should probably avoid. No matter how tempting it looked right now.
And, in the form of Cameron Delaney, it looked mighty tempting.
Chapter 6
The store, which was called May Flowers, was just opening when they arrived the next morning. A middle-aged woman with gray hair pulled back in a tight bun paused in the act of unlocking the door to regard Cameron with interest. “I know your face from somewhere.”
“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said. Laurie sensed he was keeping his voice deliberately noncommittal.
“I know who you are.” She nodded in satisfaction. “My sister lives in Stillwater. I’ve seen your picture in the local newspaper. You’re Mayor Delaney.” She waved a hand, shooing them inside while she set planters on the sidewalk outside.
On the opposite side of the street, Moreton’s office on the second floor was now a burned out shell, and the lower floor had also been vacated. Warning signs had been placed on the sidewalk while a clean-up crew was at work. “I hope her sister voted for you. If not, we’re in trouble,” Laurie murmured out of the corner of her mouth.
“Have a little faith in my personal charm.” If Cameron saw the blush his words prompted, he didn’t mention it. They hadn’t spoken of the kiss this morning, but it seemed to be there between them, burning up extra oxygen each time they looked at each other.
The woman came back inside. “I’m May King. What can I do for you?”
Laurie stepped forward. “I’m Detective Bryan of the San Diego Police Department. I’m hoping you can help me with an investigation.”
May looked her up and down. Her expression was not approving. “You’re a long way from home.”
“Detective Bryan is assisting the Stillwater police.”
“If that’s the case, why isn’t Sheriff Becker with you?” May put her hands on her hips, her stance becoming ever so slightly belligerent.
Laurie cast a glance in Cameron’s direction in an appeal for help. May King had clearly taken an aversion to her at first sight, and she didn’t want to jeopardize their chances of finding information by pushing the woman too far. And why was she asking about Sheriff Becker? This was Park County, not West County. It wasn’t Becker’s jurisdiction. Something didn’t feel right about her questions.
“Mrs. King.” May turned her attention back to Cameron, her expression relaxing. “Perhaps we didn’t explain ourselves properly. Detective Bryan is helping out the Stillwater Police Department. As you know, matters in the city of Stillwater come under my jurisdiction. This has nothing to do with the sheriff’s department. I’d appreciate it if you could assist Detective Bryan.” Laurie felt a pang of annoyance at the way he could turn on the charm so easily, but there was no doubt it worked. Although May made a slight huffing noise, she nodded.
Laurie smiled at the other woman. “Thank you. I’m interested in the heart-shaped arrangement of roses in the window—”
“Yes, it’s one of my most popular designs, especially around Valentine’s. Does it really need three police officers in two days to ask me the same question?”
“Three officers?”
May rolled her eyes impatiently. “There was the one who came in yesterday morning. The one in the suit with the official-looking badge. Asked lots of questions about the dark red roses I make up for a special customer.”
“Can you remember that police officer’s name, Mrs. King?” Cameron prompted gently.
“Morley, maybe? Morgan?” She flapped a hand. “Mor-something.”
Moreton. Laurie felt her mouth go dry. “And the second officer?”
May laughed. “N
ot five minutes after the first officer had gone, didn’t Sheriff Becker walk right on in here?”
Even though he was standing a foot away from her, Laurie could feel the tension in Cameron’s body. “What did Sheriff Becker want?”
“He said he was working with the other officer on a case and wanted to check his colleague had asked me all the right questions. I got the feeling the sheriff was training the other guy, or something like that. Sheriff Becker is such a joker, always making me laugh. He was talking about how people from out of state don’t get us Wyomingites. He asked if the other officer took away any paperwork about the special customer who orders the dark red roses.”
“And did he?” Laurie asked. It was a long shot. Moreton had no paperwork on his body, and anything that might have been in that office would be long gone in the fire.
“No, I don’t keep any. It’s a private arrangement between me and one of my best customers. And that’s what I told Sheriff Becker in case he was worried.”
“How do you know Sheriff Becker so well, Mrs. King?” Cameron asked the question before Laurie could. “This isn’t his county.”
She knew they were thinking the same things: there was a flower store on the main street in Stillwater, and surely one or two others closer to Becker’s home. Why would he need to come all this way if he wanted to buy flowers? What was his connection to this particular florist? And why had the sheriff of West County been following in the tracks of an FBI agent yesterday? An agent who had not revealed his presence here to the local police? Of course, it was possible he knew about the murders and was investigating the flowers, just as they were. But why, oh why, would Grant Becker be worried about Moreton taking away any of May’s paperwork?
“Because he’s the one.” May’s eyes crinkled into a conspiratorial smile. “Sheriff Becker is the special customer who orders the dark red heart arrangement. Regular as clockwork, near enough. She sure is a lucky lady whoever she is.”
* * *
They didn’t talk until Cameron pulled into a rest stop. By some unspoken agreement, they exited the car, bought cans of soda from a vending machine and went to sit at an isolated picnic bench.
Laurie spoke first. “This is why the West County Sheriff’s Department didn’t know about me.”
“Pardon?” Cameron seemed lost in his own thoughts.
“The other time I worked undercover with the FBI, the local police knew all about it. Even though they weren’t involved in the operation, they were aware of a federal presence in their jurisdiction. It makes sense to have no overlap of authority, no possibility of the undercover agent being picked up for a crime and to keep communication open. This time Grant Becker wasn’t told I was here undercover. He doesn’t know who I am because Moreton knew it was him.”
Cameron rubbed a hand across his eyes. “Grant? My God, he used to play in our yard when we were kids. We go on a fishing trip together every summer. Okay, he has been more Vincente’s friend than mine in recent years, but he knew Carla. He liked her...” His voice trailed away.
Laurie waited, sensing there was more. Overhead, clear blue skies teased them, inviting them to explore the perfection of the surrounding countryside instead of remaining locked in their own private nightmare.
“Looking back, maybe there was something.” When Cameron lifted the can to his lips, his hand shook slightly.
“Between Grant and Carla?” Laurie prompted gently.
“Not on her part.” He shook his head emphatically. “When Carla first came to Stillwater, she came to my office and submitted her plans for my lake house. That first night, I took her out to dinner at Dino’s, and Grant was there. She told me later—months later—he had asked her out, that very first night.”
“Even though she was with you?”
He nodded. “It was the first and only time I ever got a sense Grant might not be the stand-up guy I always thought he was. From then on, although she never said much, I got the feeling Carla was wary around Grant. Like she didn’t want to be alone with him. I thought it was because she suspected he had feelings for her and she didn’t want to hurt him or let it damage our friendship.”
“She never said anything more?”
“Do you think I’d have let it go if I thought there was a chance she was in any danger from him?” Laurie could see his pain in the lines of tension in his face and body. He had just discovered the man he thought was his friend could have killed the woman he loved. Acting on impulse, she reached out and clasped his hand. For an instant, he looked like he didn’t know how to react, like he didn’t know what to do with the unexpected physical contact between them. He stared down at the contrast between her slender fingers and his larger, stronger hand. She was sure he was going to pull away. So sure, she almost moved and did it first. Then he returned her grip. The movement was hard, strong and grateful. It signaled a shift in their relationship, but Laurie didn’t have time to examine it or her feelings about it. “So what are you saying? Grant became so obsessed with Carla, he started killing women who looked like her?”
“That’s how it seems. Carla’s death was always the one that didn’t fit. The other women are missing, so presumably he killed them and had time to dispose of their bodies. Carla’s death was made to look like an accident.” She took a breath. “I hate to hurt you by speculating like this, but what if—knowing you would be away from home—he seized the opportunity to get her alone on her boat that night? When he came on to her and she refused, he killed her, panicked and made it look like an accident. Carla was too close to Grant. She couldn’t just go missing like the others. He couldn’t risk the possibility you would remember he’d asked her out. Or maybe he’d tried other things, things Carla hadn’t told you about for the sake of your friendship. Grant had no idea what you knew.”
“But he still couldn’t stop killing, even after she was dead. Only weeks after he killed Carla, he was setting his sights on Deanna Milligan. At least we now know why the local police haven’t investigated the disappearances of these women too closely. When the county sheriff is a serial killer, I guess the clues get overlooked.” Cameron grimaced. “I wonder how Moreton made the connection.”
“His specialty was using technology to look for patterns in crimes. If anyone could have found this link, it would have been Moreton. And he was tenacious. Maybe he didn’t know for sure it was Grant, but I think he had an idea.” Laurie frowned, a sudden thought occurring to her. “How did Grant find out about Moreton? He must have discovered Moreton was on to him, but how did he know?”
They both fell quiet for a minute or two, pondering the matter. It was Cameron who broke the silence. “He knew about Moreton because of you, Laurie.”
Laurie felt her brows draw together in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Cameron ran a hand through his hair, his agitation apparent in the gesture. “Don’t you see? When I took you to Dino’s, we recreated that first night with Carla.”
Laurie could feel her jaw drop in what was almost a caricature of surprise. She thought back to that night, saw Grant’s light eyes assessing her with a smile. “Dear Lord, for a serial killer that must have been a heaven-sent fantasy. Grant is going to get to kill Carla all over again.”
“Now I think of it, Grant and Vincente left Dino’s right after they spoke to us. They didn’t stay to eat.”
“Did he have time to get to Cody, get the flowers and get back again?” Laurie did a quick mental calculation. “If he rang ahead and May King was prepared to open up her shop at night for her ‘special customer,’ then I think he could just about do it. You and I stayed late at Dino’s that night. We were there long after everyone else had gone.”
“If Grant hadn’t been able to place the flowers in your cabin that night, I’m willing to bet they’d have been left there sometime the next day.”
“I still don’t see how any of th
is led Grant to Moreton.”
“Think about it. You weren’t just any girl. You were his sweetest, darkest fantasy come back to life. He wasn’t going to let you out of his sight from then on.”
Laurie’s heart sank. “So you think he followed me the next day when I drove to Cody?”
Cameron nodded. “You didn’t even know Moreton was onto him at that point, but Grant would have made the connection as soon as he saw you go into that office over the street from May Flowers. He knew right away he was in big trouble.”
“I led Moreton’s killer straight to him.” Laurie swallowed hard.
It was Cameron’s turn to clasp her hand. “Laurie, I’ve spent the last year thinking I killed Carla. Torturing myself with ‘what-ifs.’ What if I’d stayed home that night? What if I’d insisted she came with me? It doesn’t do any good. Only one person is to blame for this. The person who killed Carla and those other girls. The same person who killed Moreton.”
“Grant Becker.” She nodded. “Although I still don’t understand why he didn’t kill me when he had the chance. He had me at his mercy in the cabin. Moreton was dead. I’m sure he was on his way into the bedroom, then he just turned around and left.”
“Something must have interrupted him.”
Laurie frowned, forcing herself to concentrate. “You came along a few minutes later,” she recalled. “Did you get straight out of your car when you arrived?”
Cameron looked a little self-conscious. “No, I had some thinking to do. I sat behind the wheel for a few minutes.”
