by Lisa Childs
If he was desperate enough to steal, what else might he be desperate enough to do? Kill?
* * *
The officer pulled out his gun and pointed it at the door as someone stepped onto the porch.
“You can put that away,” Rae said. “It’s just one of my bosses from the law office.”
Kenneth Dawson tapped his fingers lightly against the glass in the door before turning the knob. Rae gasped at his audacity. Maybe she shouldn’t have had the officer re-holster his weapon. Catching the knob in her hand, she held it tightly, got behind the door and pulled it open just a few inches. But Kenneth pushed against it, trying to open it wider as he peered inside her house.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. She’d been working from home, but all her assignments had been emailed to her, not personally delivered.
“We’re missing you at the office,” he said. “Wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
Maybe that was why he seemed so nosy. Or maybe that was just his personality—since he was the only one at the firm who fit the unflattering description of lawyers being ambulance chasers. Had he chased one here?
Had someone found another body nearby? She couldn’t see around him, though, since he blocked the entire doorway, trying to force his way inside.
Knowing the officer was close, she stepped back and let him in the door. He tensed as he noticed the young officer standing behind her. She was glad that it was Officer Baker’s shift; the guy was bigger than some body builders.
“Looks like I was right to check up on you,” Kenneth said. “Is everything okay?”
Officer Baker didn’t say anything. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to comment.
Rae had already told the law-firm partners about the threats and that she didn’t want to put anyone else at work in danger with her presence. Hadn’t they shared that information with Kenneth?
And if not, why not?
Didn’t they trust him?
Should she?
He had never actually done anything that had made her uncomfortable, though, until the other day. Something about the way he’d looked at her, and the questions he’d asked her about Forrest—it had all felt inappropriate to her.
Like his showing up here.
“Detective Colton is concerned about my safety,” she said.
“Detective Colton,” he repeated the name, his voice sharp with something like resentment.
But why would he resent Forrest? He was older than Forrest—probably at least a decade older—so they hadn’t grown up together. Their paths could have crossed in law enforcement, though.
“Where is Detective Colton now?” Kenneth asked, and he glanced around her house, as if looking for him.
She flinched. Forrest had said he was going to stay away for her and Connor’s safety. But she suspected he was just avoiding her. While he desired her, he obviously didn’t want the responsibility of a ready-made family.
When she’d chosen to become a single mother, she’d known that some men might be turned off by the prospect of raising a child that wasn’t theirs. But she’d figured she wouldn’t be interested in those men anyway. That wasn’t the case with Forrest. She was more than just interested in him; she was infatuated.
“You and the detective aren’t on a first-name basis?” Kenneth asked, a smirk twisting his thin lips.
Heat rushed to her face, but she was not about to discuss her relationship with Forrest with a colleague. Not that she had a relationship with him. She hadn’t even heard from him over the past week.
But he always called whatever officer was guarding her at the moment. Predictably this officer’s phone rang. Baker pulled it out and, as he glanced at the screen, remarked, “This is Detective Colton now. I should take this.”
He hesitated, though, before clicking the accept button. “Will you be okay if I step outside?” he asked.
She wanted to tell him no, but she didn’t want to offend Kenneth. His father-in-law was one of the partners. Because of that, surely she could trust him not to try anything with her. After all he was married to his boss’s daughter.
She nodded. “Sure, I’ll be fine.”
“Of course she will,” Kenneth told the officer, using his hand to wave him off.
The young man’s brow furrowed, but the phone continued to ring, so he opened the door and stepped onto the porch. As the door closed behind him, panic settled on Rae’s chest. Maybe it was just that she hadn’t been without security the past week, or maybe it was that something about Kenneth scared her now.
Before she could figure out the reason for her uneasiness, a cry emanated from the nursery. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief as she hurried toward her son. As she leaned over the crib railing to pick him up, she heard a strange noise and turned around to find that Kenneth had followed her.
And he was staring at her ass as she leaned over her child. Too bad she was wearing shorts instead of jeans. She hurriedly picked up Connor and turned so that her son was a shield between her and her colleague.
But Kenneth stepped forward and reached for one of Connor’s kicking feet. “Look at you, you’re so cute,” he cooed.
Connor stiffened and cried louder with either fear or dislike. He was apparently not a fan of Kenneth’s either. Not that she hadn’t been...until that day she’d found the threat on her desk and Forrest and Connor had been run off the road. But maybe that had just made her paranoid.
“He’s not a happy baby, huh?” Kenneth remarked.
“Usually he is,” she said. With the exception of those colicky nights he’d kept her awake. He’d never cried when Forrest had touched him; in fact he’d stopped crying for Forrest.
But Forrest wasn’t here. And he probably wasn’t coming back—even after he caught the killer. Because once the killer was caught, he would be able to leave. Return to his job in Austin or find a permanent job somewhere else.
She pushed that thought from her mind as she focused on her child. She changed him into a dry diaper and onesie, but he didn’t stop crying.
“Is he hungry?” Kenneth asked. “Do you need to breastfeed?” His gaze dropped to her chest, as if he expected her to start right now, right in front of him.
“I don’t breastfeed anymore,” she said. Just because of the stress of her busy schedule, she hadn’t been able to produce much milk. And now with the stress of those threats and the danger she and Connor were in, she hadn’t been able to produce any at all.
“Poor little guy,” Kenneth said with a smirk. “No wonder he’s unhappy.”
She couldn’t suppress the shudder of revulsion over his comment. “I need to take care of him,” she said, “so you should probably leave.”
“But I came all this way to check on you,” he said.
“And I’m fine,” she said. Thanks to Forrest’s making sure she had protection.
But now Forrest’s phone call had drawn that protection away from her. She had a feeling she might need him back...because Kenneth kept coming closer.
She didn’t want to lose her job, but she wasn’t going to tolerate any harassment either. “I can’t remember—do you and your wife have children?” she asked.
He shuddered now. “God, no.”
She sucked in a breath.
“I just mean—we’re too young,” he said.
He was older than she was.
“And too busy,” he added.
His wife didn’t work. Neither of them was as busy as Rae was. But she wouldn’t judge him for not wanting children any more than she wanted people judging her for wanting them so much that she’d chosen to raise her son alone.
“I know you’re busy,” she said. “So I appreciate you stopping by to check on me. But I wouldn’t want to keep you.”
His blue eyes narrowed now, as it must have finally occurred to him that she was trying to g
et rid of him. “What’s the matter, Rae? Don’t you want me in your house?”
She suspected that wasn’t where he really wanted to be. He wanted to be where Forrest had been—in her bed. But Forrest had left her bed and never returned.
She didn’t want any other man in it, though. Especially after that.
She was never going to trust another man to get that close to her. But Kenneth was leaning closer, over Connor.
With a silent plea for forgiveness, she thrust her son into his arms. “You want to hold him?”
The baby squirmed and screamed in his awkward embrace. And he hurriedly handed back her son. “No, no, I don’t want to hold him.”
Forrest hadn’t reacted like that when she’d thrust Connor into his arms that first morning he’d showed up in her backyard. He’d held him and soothed him better than she’d been able to.
He was so good with Connor. And with her.
But it didn’t seem like he was ever coming back. She didn’t want Kenneth to come back either.
“You’re lucky he didn’t throw up on you,” she said with a slight smile. “He has a tendency to do that.”
Kenneth recoiled even more. “Well, I better be going then.” He walked out of the nursery, but instead of heading to the front door, he walked to the back door and peered into the yard.
“Your car is out front,” she reminded him as she followed him into the kitchen.
“Crime scene’s out there,” he murmured, as he stared at the hole in the ground. Yellow tape dangled from posts that had been pounded into the ground around it. “So that’s where the body was found.”
Again, it wasn’t a question. He knew.
From what he’d heard on the police scanner? Or for another reason?
Even though the air-conditioning wasn’t doing much to cool the house, she shivered. She hated this, hated suspecting everyone around her.
But there was just something so damn creepy about Kenneth now. But was he creepy enough to be a killer?
Chapter 17
Maybe it was Ian’s visit earlier that day that had unsettled Forrest. Or had it been his phone call to the officer on protection duty that had done it?
What the hell had Kenneth Dawson been doing at Rae’s house? He could have been bringing her work. But wasn’t most office work done electronically now? Forrest suspected work wasn’t why Kenneth had stopped by; he’d wanted to see Rae.
Forrest did, too. Maybe that was the reason for his current state of restlessness. A week was just too damn long for him to go without seeing Rae and Connor, without personally making sure that they were all right. Without touching her, kissing her...being with her...
Not that he expected her to welcome him back into her arms or her bed. She probably felt that he’d abandoned her, the way her father had abandoned her mother when she’d needed him most. But Rae didn’t really need Forrest.
Nobody did.
Other—more able-bodied—officers would do a better job protecting her and Connor. Forrest couldn’t chase down a suspect—couldn’t run off a threat—the way the more physically capable officers could.
And those other officers weren’t in danger like Forrest was either. They wouldn’t endanger her and Connor with their very presence like he did.
But nothing else had happened to him after he and Connor had been run off the road. Nobody had made another attempt on his life. So maybe the person just wanted him out of Rae’s and Connor’s lives.
But why?
So he could insinuate himself there? Like Kenneth Dawson might have tried this afternoon? Had that been the purpose of his visit? Or had he been scoping out the situation to return later?
A chill chased down Forrest’s spine with the horrific thought. Maybe no more attempts had been made in the past week because the killer had been taking his time to plot his next attack so that he would succeed.
But what was his goal? To get rid of Forrest or of Rae and Connor?
* * *
Nobody knew this place better than he did. Hell, he was the only one who knew the body had been buried here. Well, not the only one.
The discovery of that body should have served as a big enough distraction, should have kept the damn police department busy trying to figure out who the victim was and what had happened to her. But it hadn’t been enough.
At least not to the person who now held his debt. He—whoever the hell he was—wanted more from him. Wanted blood.
Murder.
He’d almost pulled it off when he’d forced the detective to drive into that parked car. But somehow Detective Colton had survived. So had the baby.
Not that he’d wanted to hurt the baby. He hadn’t. But he didn’t want to get hurt either.
And that was going to happen if he didn’t do more to get rid of Colton. He had to send the stubborn detective a real message. A message that no matter what Forrest Colton did—or how many people he had protecting the house—Rae and the baby weren’t safe.
Nobody was.
Keeping to the shadows, he moved closer to the back of the house. The plastic tape strewn around that hole fluttered in the slight breeze. He didn’t need the tape to know where that hole was; he’d dug up most of it himself. And a few other damn holes before he’d remembered where it was.
Rae hadn’t seen him then. She hadn’t seen him once since he had returned to Whisperwood. Maybe that needed to change.
Maybe he needed to talk to her—to make her understand...
But to get close to her, he had to get rid of her protection. The moonlight illuminated most of the yard, enough that he could see a rock lying among the mound of dirt. He picked it up in his gloved hand and tossed it, not at the house, but at the barbecue grill sitting on the back patio.
Metal clanged. And a light came on inside the kitchen, and then another beside the back door that illuminated the patio. His heart pounding, he ducked into the shadows again. He had to do this, had to be ready. So he reached into his back pocket, where he’d tucked another weapon—a long pipe—and he pulled that out. And he waited.
It didn’t take the officer long to open the door and step onto the patio. He came out with his gun drawn, though. A pipe would be no match for a bullet.
So he needed the element of surprise. Too bad he hadn’t picked up two damn rocks.
But as fate would have it, something else moved in the darkness. Undoubtedly an animal.
It rustled the brush just beyond the hole in the yard and drew the officer farther from the house. With his gun pointing toward the brush, he walked right past the shadows where his assailant hid.
Once he passed, his assailant struck out, swinging the pipe at the back of his head. It connected hard, knocking him to the ground.
He made no sound.
No movement.
Was he unconscious or dead?
A twinge of regret struck his heart, which most people probably suspected he didn’t even possess. But he had one. As always, though, most of his love was for himself. He was a hell of lot more concerned about his own life than anyone else’s.
So he left the officer lying on the ground, and he headed toward the house. After he closed his hand around the knob of the back door, he tried to turn it, but it refused to budge. The damn cop had locked it behind himself.
Maybe he’d suspected the noise had been a ruse to draw him out of the house. Maybe he’d already called for backup in case he didn’t return.
But what if he had locked it, he must have had a key on him—some way to get back inside the house. The key was no longer under the pot on the front porch.
If only that had been Colton’s skull he’d struck with the pipe...
If the officer had called for backup, it probably would have been Colton. So maybe there would be a chance to strike him yet.
To get rid of him for good.
&n
bsp; If the officer hadn’t called him, Rae would when she heard him coming. So he swung his pipe again, this time at the window in the locked door. The sound of glass breaking shattered the quiet of the night.
* * *
The officer had already warned Rae that he was heading outside to investigate a noise he’d heard. He’d locked the door behind himself and had advised her to open it only for him. He’d only been gone moments when someone had tried to turn the knob. He’d known it was locked; he’d locked it himself.
So he wouldn’t have done that, not without alerting her first. He wasn’t the one trying to open that door. Fear coursing through her, she’d headed toward the nursery, where Connor was sleeping. Or had been sleeping.
The tinkling explosion of shattered glass awakened him with a scream on his lips. Rae didn’t go right to his crib, though. Instead she closed and locked his door behind her.
But was the lock enough?
It was one of those that could be picked with a paperclip. So she pushed her shoulder against his dresser, sliding it across the floor—the legs of it scraping the wood—until it blocked the door. But she’d been able to move it, and she wasn’t very big. Someone else would surely be able to move it aside to get to them.
Heart pounding with panic, she rushed around the room, grabbing things to pile on or push against the dresser. She had to make it impossible to move. She had to keep out the threat against her son and her.
But what about the young officer?
What had happened to him?
Was he okay?
She needed to call for help for him and for them. But her house was so far from town that it would be too late for help to arrive—if she didn’t manage to keep the intruder out of the nursery.
Away from Connor.
Guilt tore at her—over the officer, over Connor’s crying.
And tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked them back. She had to be able to see as she pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe.
