Dean’s dark, velvety eyes stared into hers. Everything around them slowed down, and although the ache in her heart was massive, in that moment she felt like she could breathe. “So it’s certain?” he murmured, stroking his thumb across her skin. “It’s murder?”
“Suffocation.” She nodded. “It sounds like they were watching for the opportunity. Max still had cops, some guys with military experience, volunteering to watch his door since we don’t know who shot him. Today it was Braxton, works with county, newer guy, just trying to help out. There was a problem with some visitors, a physical altercation.” She curled her lip as she said it, the words bitter on her tongue. “He got involved. Whoever did this, he went in while Braxton was distracted, shoved a pillow over Max’s face and in those few minutes killed him. Slid out just as quiet as you please and left. It’s like a ghost did it. Nobody noticed anything, saw anything.”
Dean was quiet a moment. “It’s somebody who is used to being seen there, in town. Invisible.”
Ice spread through her and she nodded. There were a lot of people in town who could move around without being noticed. But just who could slip unnoticed into a hospital?
A doctor?
A nurse?
A preacher?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The day of Max’s funeral dawned cold, hard and bright. The sun shone harshly done from a sky so blue it hurt to look at it. David thought the day suited the man they were burying. It was a hard-edged day but still somehow beautiful, the sun shining through the fiery maple leaves, the air heavy with the scents of fall. Wind whipped through those trees, sending the leaves swirling around in little storms as the mourners gathered.
David stood at the back.
Noah had briefly left Trinity’s side to urge him to the front, and there was a look in his eyes that made David suspect that Noah knew something.
But David didn’t want to be around others.
The only thing that brought him here was the fact that he’d loved Max.
Yeah. He’d loved him. An emotion he’d never wanted to claim. In the weeks since Abraham’s death, the wall David had kept around him had gotten weaker and now it was so full of holes, it was a miracle that wall even remained.
Now, as he struggled to rebuild the wall around himself, emotions stormed inside him. Too many emotions, all of them unwanted, unfamiliar, unwelcome. He couldn’t shut them down. The pain was a monster in his gut. He’d grieve over Max every day for the rest of his life.
“Why, David … I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Slowly, he lifted his head.
Something spasmed in his jaw and he had to fight the urge to snarl. Respect for the man in the casket kept him silent and he just stared as Louisa made her way over to him.
She held out a hand and he flicked it with a dismissive gaze before looking back up at her.
She gave a nervous laugh before looking around again. “Well. Max did make some unusual friends, didn’t he?”
Go away, he thought. The black suit she wore was fussy with lace and beads that reflected the light and she wore too much perfume. Under the perfume, he could smell the coffee from the coffee shop, like she’d just thrown the suit on in her office and doused herself with the cloying scent to cover the smell from the shop.
The effect was nauseating.
“Well. I guess you’re not much for talking, are you?” Something glinted in her eyes and she lowered her voice; although her tone remained sweet with sympathy, he saw the vulture that lurked in her gaze. “I guess I can imagine why. People are talking … well, I mean, we all know by now. After everything you went through, poor boy, it’s hard for you to talk—”
“Don’t touch me,” he warned, catching the hand she’d been reaching up with. “Not ever.”
She squeaked in shock, although he kept his grip easy. Her skin was almost papery under his hand and everything in him screamed, Back away! Back away! He wanted to wash his hands, wanted to get the stink of too much perfume and coffee off him, but people were staring and Louisa was babbling and the funeral was about to start.
“Why, I never—”
“David.”
He let her hand go at the familiar voice, backing away one step, then another, before turning his head to look at Noah.
Dressed in a solemn suit of black, Noah looked between him and Louisa and then back. “There’s a seat up front,” he said quietly.
Louisa perked up. “Why, thank—”
“I’m sorry,” Noah said gently, moving to cut her off. “Those seats are reserved for family and close friends. We held it for David.”
Louisa’s mouth fell open, and for a moment she was stunned into speechlessness. Although he didn’t expect that to last, David took advantage of it to turn and walk away. He didn’t want to sit up front where people could gawk at him, try to talk to him—or worse.
But if he had to even look at that viper another moment, he thought he’d lose it.
“Are you okay?” Noah asked.
David didn’t answer.
There was no point.
Okay?
When had he ever been okay?
He didn’t remember sinking onto the open seat next to Trinity. She gave him a small smile and then looked back up front. Noah was already up there, a fact that didn’t surprise David. He’d been the one to speak at Miss Mary’s funeral as well. Knowing the old man, he’d probably arranged it all.
Had to control just about everything—
David cut the thoughts off. Thinking about him hurt. Thinking about anything hurt. This had done it, David realized. The ice that he’d wrapped himself in was gone, smashed by the old man’s death, and he was drowning now, drowning in a storm of emotion that was more he could handle. Drowning in loss, misery, despair, rage. Even the emotions he was used to feeling—rage and disgust—were spiraling higher and tighter than normal.
Just don’t think. Closing his eyes, he kept that mantra up, ignoring everything else.
If he could manage that, for however long this took, he could get the hell out of here. Get in his truck. Drive for however long it took him to get away from here, and then he could …
Do what?
What was it going to take to exhaust the eruption he could feel building inside?
There was a movement next to him and he tensed as somebody sank onto the sole remaining seat. A hand slid over his.
And just like that, some of the chaos in him eased.
The pain was still there. It would probably always be.
But Sybil was there.
He didn’t even have to look. He knew her touch. He could be lost in an unending dark hell and he’d know her touch, her scent, the brush of her skin against his own. Even in death, he’d know her.
After a few more seconds, he opened his eyes and looked over at her.
She was staring straight ahead.
The music came to a close and he forced himself to look back as Noah started to speak.
* * *
It was all a blur, almost everything Noah said.
A few times, David managed to drag his thoughts to the here and now when Noah would tell a story about the old man or mention something that Judge Max had been known to say.
One in particular jabbed a dull, rusty knife into David’s heart. Noah, his gaze roaming over the crowd, said, “I remember once, when my father was dying, how Judge Max came to me: In the end, son, we all look back. Some of us will look back with regret and quite a few probably do. The lucky ones look back with pleasure at a life well lived. I imagine that’s your dad.” Noah paused and David tensed as his eyes lingered on him. And it wasn’t his imagination the way that penetrating stare cut through him.
The man knew.
Somehow, Noah knew.
“I’d imagine Judge Max could look back on a life well lived.”
Blood started to roar in David’s ears.
And a knot settled in his throat.
He hadn’t cried in more years than he c
ould remember, not even when Abraham had died. He’d lost the ability, he’d thought, after that awful, brutal beating that left him in his bed for days while the long, thin slices on his back slowly healed.
But he wanted to weep.
* * *
“I never knew the two of you were such good friends.”
Sybil walked at his side, and when Louisa cut them off she was the one to speak while David stared at the older woman coldly. “Who, David and I?” Sybil asked, her voice bright, her smile sharp edged.
Louisa gave her a look that might have made some other women wither, but Sybil just cocked a brow.
“Hardly.” Louisa racked Sybil with a look. Although she wore a slim-fitting coat, the long, slim black column of a dress, sedate as it was, did nothing to hide the body beneath. “I imagine everybody knows what David is looking for with you, after how many years of living a restrained lifestyle with the Amish.”
David’s lips peeled back from his teeth. Sybil squeezed his hand tightly. It was the only thing that kept him quiet. That and the memory of the grave behind him. But it was a fight to control the anger building up in his throat.
“I meant you and Max,” Louisa said, pasting a false smile on her face. “This must be even harder for you then. After everything you went through, losing somebody close to you. How awful you must feel.”
This time, not even that tight grip from Sybil could do it. Taking a step forward, David leaned in, studying Louisa’s face. “Which one was it, Louisa? Your mom or your dad?”
She blinked, confusion heavy on her features. “Excuse me?”
“One of them went and fucked a hyena, to come up with a piece of work like you.” She went white and then red. Her hand came up and he caught her wrist before she could strike him. “You’re out for blood, but you won’t find it here. So just tuck your tail between your legs and get away from me. And stay away.” He flung her hand down like it was dirty and then led Sybil away while Louisa glared at him. He could feel the heat of that stare cutting between his shoulder blades. Uncaring, he kept walking until Noah’s voice cut him off.
Blowing out a sigh, he looked at Sybil.
She reached up a hand. “If you don’t want to stay, don’t.”
“If it was anybody else, I wouldn’t.” He shrugged and turned his head before looking back as a familiar figure caught his eyes. Was that—
Then he shook his head. No. Probably just the lack of sleep and everything else catching up with him.
Noah drew even with him, but his eyes didn’t meet David’s. Not right away. Noah was looking at Louisa, who had cut through the cemetery a different way and was standing there, waving her hands angrily as she talked to Chief Sorenson. Her voice was loud, the words carrying over the crowd.
“You brutalized her, huh? In broad daylight with all of us watching on?” Noah asked, lifting a brow.
“Oh, for f—” Sybil snapped her mouth shut and made a face at Noah. “That’s utter crap. She went to slap him and he kept her from doing it. I ought to go assault her and show her the difference.”
Trinity arched her brows. “Can I watch?”
Noah ran his tongue across his teeth and looked at David.
If he expected any help from David’s corner, he was looking in the wrong direction. The thought of seeing Sybil pissed was actually rather appealing.
“Not necessary,” Noah said, nodding to Sorenson. The chief had a hand on Louisa’s shoulders and was leading her away. Already the strident tone of Louisa’s voice was dying.
If he never had to hear her again, see her again, it would be too damn soon.
“The chief isn’t going to listen to her, is he?” Trinity asked, moving in closer, keeping her voice low as she glanced around.
David didn’t really give a damn. Noah was the one to answer and David looked up, skimming the crowd again, looking for that familiar figure in black. But he didn’t catch a single glimpse.
“He’s got too much sense to listen to Louisa’s rambling,” Noah said, shrugging it off.
Or seeming to. David could feel his speculative study and knew if he looked over there Noah would be watching him like he could piece together everything just by staring at him long enough. Both him and Max, and the way they looked at people. Noah should have been the one related to that old man, not David, fucked-up mess that he was.
“There’s a dinner—” Noah started to say.
David turned his head, stared into Noah’s eyes and shook his head. “Don’t bother.”
A faint smile tilted up one corner of the other man’s mouth. “And here I was thinking you’d be jumping for joy at the idea.” He shrugged and looked away. “Just wanted to let you know you’re welcome.”
Yeah, Noah might feel that way. Most others wouldn’t. How many knew, he wondered. How many knew that he was Max’s grandson?
Sorenson and Detective Bell knew. He’d told the detective and Sorenson had figured it out. Had others?
Somehow he doubted it. If people had known, it would have gotten around.
Aware that Noah was still watching him, he looked away. The thought of sitting around, listening while people speculated or gossiped made his gut churn. Worse, the thought of being around the people who’d loved the old man and could talk freely about their memories …
No. The last thing David wanted right then was to be around people.
Sybil stroked one thumb down his hand and instinctively he squeezed. She returned the gesture and he had to amend his thought. There was one person he wanted to be around just then. Only one. Turning his head, he studied her face. If she wanted to go, he’d go, just because the thought of not being around her was even worse than the thought of being around others. “Were you going to go?” he asked quietly.
“I came for you.” She reached up with her free hand and stroked his cheek. “I go where you go.”
Those words, so easily stated, sent another rush of emotion through him. With a short nod, he glanced at Noah. “I’m done here, then.” He started to walk and then stopped. Without looking back at the man behind him, he said quietly, “You did good by him. Thanks for that.”
* * *
It was a slow, mostly silent walk, especially the first twenty minutes. They stopped at a cross street and David looked at Sybil for the first time when she pulled her hand from his.
She gave him a rueful grin as she tugged something from her coat pocket. “It’s a good thing I know you.”
That didn’t click until he saw her pull out a narrow pair of slipper-like shoes from a pouch and swap them out in place of her heels. She put the stilt-like shoes in one hand and then took his hand, sighing a little in relief.
“We could have taken your car,” he said as something he recognized as guilt worked through him.
“Difficult.” She slid him a sideways smile. “I caught a ride with Trinity and Noah. I…” Her words trailed off and she shrugged. “Well, I figured you’d be there and I wanted to be with you in case you needed me.”
This time, he was the one to stop.
In case you needed me.
Words rose in him, trapping in his throat as he turned to face her.
They were still close to two miles from the little house where Max had lived all these years. Brilliant streams of sunlight shone down around them and cars passed by, but all David saw was her. Reaching up, he threaded his fingers through her hair, cupped her face.
He opened his mouth, trying to figure out the way to say everything pent up inside. He wasn’t a man who cared about words—they meant little, in his mind. Except what she’d just done proved him wrong. A few gentle words could somehow slash into him and yet flood him with something … indescribable.
Leaning in, he pressed his mouth to her forehead while a war waged inside him. He thought back to the first time he’d seen her, the fury that had lit inside him when he realized what he’d come across. The defiance and fear and anger he’d seen reflected in her eyes. The way she’d smiled at him the next t
ime they met. Then, the third time, when he’d thought he was being casual about it and she gave him that slow, I see what you did there look.
It started then, he realized.
When he started to feel again he’d thought it was just lust and he’d welcomed it. Lust was a normal thing. He hadn’t felt it, not really, until she’d given him that slow, sure smile of hers and he’d thought about covering that red-slicked mouth with his own, fantasies that he hadn’t entertained in … ever. He’d never had them.
He’d fed that hot, hungry feeling then, let it consume him, but he’d never really noticed everything that grew along with it. The obsession. The need.
“You’re in my blood, in my soul. I can’t remember a time anymore when I didn’t need you,” he whispered, the words slipping from him without him even realizing it.
Sybil tensed, a startled sound slipping from her.
He lifted his head and watched her from under his lashes. “I made Samuel put in that bid on your studio,” he said.
* * *
Well, well, well. Sybil walked into the studio and all but dropped her jaw. Okay, yes, she’d known the group the contractor had gotten for most of the construction was one of the Amish families out of Switzerland County, but Caine was with the crew?
What were the odds?
He hadn’t so much as looked at her, but she recognized him—would recognize him, no matter what, whether it was a dimly lit street and he was striding down the street with more confidence than any man should have or he was here, among the rest of the quiet, soft-spoken men, like a wolf among sheep.
In that very moment, he looked up and, as if he was surprised to see her, he blinked and cocked his head, then just nodded.
But she saw it, in just that moment, that he wasn’t surprised.
He’d known this was her place. Once they were done, it would be her studio, and she planned on making something of it.
She smiled back and lifted a brow.
He kept his face blank, a shutter falling across his features, but she didn’t let it get to her.
He was here.
What to do about that?
Darker Than Desire Page 14
