“To be honest, it’s probably best for my peace of mind, too.”
They got out of the car and walked up the porch steps together. The front door stood ajar and Olive turned to him with a worried frown.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I probably failed to close it earlier.”
Jack brushed past her, glancing over his shoulder to scan the street and all the shadowy corners of the yard before toeing open the door. “Where’s the light switch?”
“To your left.”
“Wait here.” He eased through the quiet house, giving each room a thorough search before returning to the foyer. “All clear.”
“Thanks for checking.” Olive stepped inside and followed his gaze to the bolt at the top of the door. “A precaution. Not that it did any good tonight.”
“You unlocked the deadbolt in your sleep?”
“Apparently.”
“You should get a security system, one with a loud enough alarm to wake you if a door or window is opened.”
“Yes, my mother had one put in when the episodes first started. As I said, I thought I’d outgrown them, but after tonight, I won’t take any chances. I’ll arrange for an installation as soon as possible.”
Jack took a last sweep of the small, but comfortable living area. The walls were white and the furniture gray, not unlike the nondescript color scheme in his apartment. But Olive had punctuated the space with pillows and throw rugs in bright shades of red and turquoise. He observed everything, not because her design aesthetic interested him, but because a house could reveal a lot about the person who lived there.
Olive Belmont seemed to be an open book. If her cousin was involved in something as shady as Tommy had implied, Jack doubted she knew anything about it. But then, he had been fooled before.
He stepped out on the porch and scoured the darkness. The breeze had picked up, fluttering through the trees in Olive’s front yard and unleashing the scent of jasmine from the bushes that grew up her fence. It was all very lush and homey and familiar and yet Jack felt strangely unmoored as if coming back here to his hometown had caused him to lose his bearings.
He turned back to Olive. “Are you sure you’ll be all right for the rest of the night?”
“I’ll be fine. If I sleep at all, it won’t be deeply enough to leave my bed.”
An image of that bed floated through Jack’s head—crisp white linens and soft, soft pillows.
“Well, good night, then.” He bent impulsively to kiss her cheek. The action took both of them by surprise and she jerked her head just enough so that his mouth brushed hers.
He didn’t pull away or offer an apology. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair and brought his mouth to hers, this time on purpose. She responded by parting her lips and kissing him back. When he pulled away, she looked disoriented, as if she had just awakened from another harrowing adventure.
“What a strange night this has been,” she murmured.
“Hasn’t it, though?” he said over his shoulder as he strode down the steps.
Chapter Four
Olive was just coming out of the local coffee shop the next morning when she spotted Jack on his way in. He held the door for her and she stepped out on the sidewalk to join him, taking a moment to discreetly admire the fit of his faded jeans and the cotton shirt that he wore untucked and rolled up at the sleeves.
His hair was even darker than she remembered, his eyes a deep, rich chocolate. Despite what she’d said the night before, he had most definitely changed since their high school years. The harsh light of day emphasized the fine lines around his eyes, the resolved set of his jaw and a chiseled chin. The changes didn’t so much age him as harden him. He was a man in his prime rather than the seventeen-year-old boy who had been driven out of town by both his elders and his peers.
“Good morning,” she said in a tone far too bright for the circumstances. “Looks like we had the same idea.”
“It would seem so.” He stood with one hand still on the door as he gave her a long assessment.
His scrutiny was only fair, she supposed, since she’d done the same to him. Still, she was secretly relieved that she’d taken time with her appearance even though the sleeveless white dress and caged heels were for work and not for Jack King. Normally, she wouldn’t have been so formally turned out during summer break, but she had a faculty meeting later that morning, the first of the new school year, and she wanted to make a good impression. That Jack seemed to appreciate her fine-tuning was merely icing on the cake.
“Are you headed over to the sheriff’s office?” he asked.
“I’ve already been in.” They moved away from the door to the edge of the street so as not to block customer traffic. “We spoke briefly. I really couldn’t add much to my previous statement and Tommy revealed very little about the investigation. Although I gather word has already gotten out about Jamie’s death. That’s not surprising. Secrets are hard to keep in a town this small.”
“That hasn’t been my experience.” His tone was enigmatic. “You repeated what you’d already told him last night?”
“I stuck to our story if that’s what you mean.” She shot a quick glance over her shoulder and then leaned in. “Lying to the police before breakfast, let alone my first cup of coffee, is a lot more stressful than I would have imagined. I don’t know how career criminals do it.”
“If it makes you feel any better, you ad-libbed like a champ last night.”
She winced. “That doesn’t make me feel better. Worse, in fact. I work with kids. I take my responsibility as a role model very seriously. What does it say about my character that I could so easily withhold the truth in a murder investigation?”
“You have every right to protect yourself. Nothing you could have told him would change the course of his investigation. You didn’t see or hear anything. Why put yourself needlessly at risk?”
“I guess.”
He glanced back at the shop door. “I should grab my coffee and go. Tommy will be expecting me.”
“And I need to get to work. Good luck with your interview.” She paused. “Should we get together later to compare notes? I have a meeting at ten, but I’ll be in my office all afternoon.”
“I’ll try to give you a call.”
A noncommittal answer if Olive had ever heard one, but she decided not to take it personally. She’d enjoyed their good-night kiss—had been quite stunned by it, in fact—but she didn’t attach too much importance to the gesture. Jack had acted on impulse and she’d responded in kind. Blame it on the lingering adrenaline from her rescue. Olive freely acknowledged an attraction to him, but really, wasn’t his allure little more than an old memory?
Besides, it was probably for the best to keep some distance. After last night, there would undoubtedly be talk. Olive wasn’t one to live her life in fear of gossip, but like it or not, reputation mattered in a small town, especially for someone in her position. The next few weeks were crucial. They could well set the tone for the whole school year, if not the rest of her career. She would be foolish to invite distraction and controversy when everything she’d worked so hard for was at stake.
She murmured a goodbye and then turned to cross the street only to have Jack grab her arm and yank her back to the curb as a black pickup truck roared through the intersection. Her heel caught in a crack and she went down in an ungainly sprawl. The coffee cup flew out of her hand, exploding on impact with the pavement. Mortified, Olive could only stare helplessly at the spreading brown splotches on her white dress.
Jack was instantly at her side. “You okay?”
“I think so.” She took his hand and quickly scrambled to her feet. A small group had already started to gather and Olive would have liked nothing more than to sink right through the sidewalk.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, fine.” She dusted her hands and tried to salvage her poise. If anything could be more embarrassing than taking a spill in public, it was doing so in the presence of a high school crush. “That’s the second time you’ve had to come to my rescue in as many days. And the second time in less than a week that I almost got hit stepping off a curb. I really should pay more attention.”
“That driver was going way too fast. Brazenly speeding right down Main Street.” He retrieved the cup and tossed it in a nearby trash bin.
Olive’s ankle ached and the heel on her right shoe wobbled. The morning had turned disastrous. Now she would have to go all the way back home and change, leaving little time to prepare for her meeting. She lamented the turn of events until she reminded herself of Jamie Butaud’s fate and the kind of morning that awaited her family and friends. Put in the proper perspective, a coffee-stained dress and a battered shoe were hardly worth fretting over.
“Did you get a look at the driver?” Jack asked her.
“It happened too quickly. What about you?”
“I was able to get a partial plate number. I’ll give that and a description of the vehicle to the sheriff. Someone is bound to recognize that truck.” He scanned the crowd for a moment before zeroing back in on her. “You said this had happened before?”
“Last Friday night. I worked late and it was already dark by the time I left for home. A car came out of nowhere and the headlights blinded me as I stepped off the curb.”
His voice sharpened. “Last Friday night?”
“Yes, why?”
He hesitated. “Nothing. I was just thinking back to my own Friday night. Same vehicle?”
“No, it was a car then. A dark sedan, but I couldn’t tell the make or model. I really don’t think it’s anything to worry about. I have a feeling I’m being tested.”
“What do you mean, tested?”
The intensity of his focus caught Olive off guard and unease crept over her. Why did she suddenly have the feeling that there was much more to Jack King and his return than he had previously been willing to acknowledge? Despite their history, he was a stranger and now she couldn’t help but wonder why he had really come back to Pine Lake. Something was going on, with him and with this town. At that moment, her decision to keep a safe distance seemed like a very good idea.
“In three weeks, I’ll be starting my first semester as principal of Pine Lake High School,” she explained.
He lifted a brow. “Principal?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Please don’t say I look too young for the job. I’ve already heard that too many times as it is.”
“I was about to say, you’re a lot braver than I am.”
“We’ll soon see, I suppose. Anyway, I think these incidents are challenges to my authority. A way to intimidate me. Neither vehicle came close to hitting me.”
Jack’s expression sobered. “That’s a pretty dangerous way to intimidate. You could have been seriously injured when you fell. Whatever the motive, they shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”
She started to put a restraining hand on his arm, but dropped it to her side instead. “They’re just kids. As soon as they accept that I can’t be scared off, they’ll move on.” She glanced around. A few bystanders still huddled nearby as they whispered furiously among themselves. Evidently, Jack had been recognized and Olive’s heart sank. Word would spread across town like wildfire now. Jack King had come back to Pine Lake on the same night a young woman had been murdered. And Olive Belmont had been seen with him at the lake and now in front of the coffee shop. No telling what her role would become once the game of telephone took hold.
Jack had noticed the crowd, too. It would be hard to miss the whispers and open stares.
“Ignore them,” she said.
He gave a low laugh. “These people mean nothing to me.”
His derision sent a chill through her, almost as frigid as the sudden frost in his eyes. “Then why come back here?”
“I told you last night—loose ends.”
“But those loose ends don’t really have anything to do with your uncle’s estate, do they? I saw the way you looked at that crowd just now. These people. Why do I have a feeling you’ve come back for revenge?”
“There’s a difference between justice and vengeance.”
Olive’s heart thudded in trepidation. The disquiet she’d been experiencing for days seemed to culminate in his icy stare. “Your uncle never believed that Wayne Foukes killed Anna. I take it you don’t, either.”
Even as he hesitated to answer, his gaze on her was relentless. “Wayne Foukes is guilty of a lot of terrible crimes, but he didn’t kill Anna.”
“How can you be so sure unless—”
His voice grew even colder. “Unless I killed her?”
“Unless you have new evidence. I told you last night I never thought you did it.”
“You also told me that you think I’m a good guy. The look on your face right now tells me otherwise.”
Olive wasn’t quite sure how to respond. It was true, she did feel differently about him this morning. He seemed a little too dark and distant, a little too secretive for her peace of mind. But what if he was right? What if Anna’s murderer had gone free all these years and was still living in Pine Lake? Still attending Sunday morning church services and Friday night football games? What if the killer was an acquaintance or a friend or even someone she had dated? What if a cold-blooded murderer had lain low all these years, hidden among the populace of a small, insular town, only to resurface and kill again fifteen years later?
Jack waited patiently for her to respond.
She tried to subdue her agitation as she gave him an honest answer. “I still think you’re a good guy. But a good guy on a mission can cause an awful lot of trouble.”
“The innocent have nothing to fear from me.”
She suspected his was also an honest answer, but it only served to deepen her foreboding. Because in that moment of candor, Olive had glimpsed something in his face that she hadn’t witnessed before. Beneath his cool, steady persona was a simmering anger that took her breath away. Despite what he said about justice and vengeance, there was no mistaking his intent. Jack King meant to have his pound of flesh.
She closed her eyes on a shiver. The town wouldn’t even see it coming. A few discreet questions and suddenly suspicions would flare and bad feelings would fester. Neighbor would side-eye neighbor. Olive couldn’t fault him for wanting justice or even revenge for the way he’d been treated, but she dreaded getting caught in the fallout.
His gaze was still on her, a singular focus that drew another shiver. She tried to look away, but his stare was too hypnotic. Why hadn’t she seen this coming? Even on top of the bridge, even in the throes of terror, instinct should have warned her that she was in the presence of a very dangerous man. Her instincts were warning her now. Screaming at her, in fact.
“I...should go,” she said.
Before she could step away, he reached out and tucked back an errant strand of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. Her pulse jumped at even so slight a touch and Olive knew she was in real trouble.
“Watch where you’re going,” he said.
“Good advice.” Such good advice.
* * *
JACK GLANCED OVER his shoulder to where Tommy Driscoll sat behind his desk. The Caddo County sheriff was on the phone and had been for a full five minutes.
When he caught Jack’s eye, he palmed the mouthpiece. “Sorry about this.”
“No problem.”
“You need anything? Cup of coffee...bottle of water...”
“I’m good,” Jack said as he turned back to the window. “Take your time.”
He was glad to have a few minutes to collect his thoughts. With an effort, he u
nclenched his fists and relaxed his fingers as he tried to rein in his emotions. But even now, he could feel the surge of an unexpected anger.
Jack had been in control for so long he’d forgotten what it was like to give in to those latent resentments. The fury that had defined his behavior all through college had eventually given way to the bitter resignation of his twenties and finally to the jaded disdain that had kept him restless and distrustful at thirty-three. His earlier anger had blindsided him. That the townspeople and their lingering suspicions could still goad him back into that dark place didn’t bode well for an objective investigation.
Being back inside the police station didn’t help. On the morning he’d first learned of Anna’s death, Jack had been ushered into this very office. Despite the passage of time, he still remembered those hours vividly—his mother’s tremulous voice waking him from a deep sleep. His grogginess as he dressed and staggered down the back stairs to the kitchen where his father and Sheriff Brannigan sat drinking coffee. His father’s somber expression. The lawman’s grim tone. Son, I need you and your folks to come down to the station with me.
Jack had found out about Anna on the ride downtown. Then later, in the throes of grief and shock and flanked by his parents, he’d sat across the desk from Brannigan for his first interview. The questions had seemed innocuous at first. When had he last seen Anna? What time had he dropped her off? Had they argued that evening?
From there the interrogation had progressed to the most intimate details of their relationship.
Were the two of you sexually active?
Yes, sir.
For how long?
A few months.
Did you have intercourse last night?
Yes, sir.
But didn’t you say you took her home because she wasn’t feeling well?
Yes. That’s true.
But she felt well enough to have sex with you?
I...guess so.
Tell the truth, son. Did you pressure that girl? Use a little force when she wouldn’t give in?
No, sir. It was her idea.
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