Kateri started to laugh.
Then he stood.
She froze.
Water ran off his hair and face in rivulets that slid under his collar and down his chest. She knew because his blue denim shirt was plastered to his chest and … muscles. In detail. His jeans sagged low on his hips. Really low. The kind of low that if she gave them a tug, she would see London and France, and probably all of the Iberian Peninsula.
This could not be good for her heart.
Too late she realized he was headed right for her. “No. Don’t! You’re—”
Gently he wrapped her in his arms, pulled her close and up onto her toes, and kissed her.
The cold water soaked through her uniform, opening the way to the blistering heat of his body. His mouth was wet and warm and absolutely intent … on her. He absorbed her. He consumed her. He … wanted her. Heat and cold. Forest and stream. The great, dark depths of the ocean rising up to envelop—
Lacey barked. Furiously. Imperiously.
Stag pulled away, looked down at the little dog at their feet and laughed. Taking the Barbie towel out of Kateri’s hands, he leaned down and dried Lacey from head to toe, picked her up and cradled her. And slid his arm around Kateri’s waist.
Stretching and reaching, Lacey licked at their chins.
Between Stag and Kateri, passion simmered beneath the surface.
At the same time, they shared an affection for the dog who adored them so.
For Kateri, this felt like family, close and tight. Support … for one moment, she allowed her head to rest on Stag’s shoulder.
His big hand came up and pressed her into him.
They both straightened.
“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.” Still holding the dog, Stag steered Kateri with his hand on her back. “When do you go see the doctor again?”
The switch of conversation startled Kateri out of her pleasant reverie. “What? The doctor?”
“About your ribs.”
“Oh.” She had winced when he embraced her; she had hoped he didn’t notice. “I’m supposed to stop in when I visit Rainbow.”
He stopped by her car, put Lacey into the passenger seat and strapped her into her doggie seat belt. “So tonight?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go with you.”
It was on the tip of Kateri’s tongue to tell him not to bother. But … no way around it, it was going to be a long day. She was tired and sore and grief-stricken about Rainbow. So she said, “Thank you.”
Taking her face between his hands, he pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Good girl!”
Kateri muttered, “Woof.”
He gave Lacey one last pet and strode away. Strode. Not walked. Not sauntered. Strode. Like Clint Eastwood on steroids.
“Whew.” Climbing in the car, Kateri said to Lacey, “So he heard what I said at the Gem Lounge and he didn’t get pissy or run away. Point for him.”
Lacey gave her her best I’m a starving doggie look.
Kateri riffled around in the car door side pocket, brought out the plastic bag of dog treats and handed her a green one. “Coming out of that stream, all wet … he Mr. Darcy’d me.” She looked down at her damp uniform. “And unless I miss my guess, when he kissed me, he was marking me.”
The green treats were Lacey’s least favorite, but she munched down with great enthusiasm, spraying crumbs on the seat and then daintily retrieving them one at a time.
“All that playing in the dirt will give a dog an appetite, hmm?”
Lacey put her head on Kateri’s thigh.
“Yeah, yeah.” Kateri dug out a brown treat and handed it over. “On the other hand, let us remember who he is and what he’s done in his life. As law-abiding citizens go, he’s on the shady side. Maybe he just has good reflexes, but during that drive-by, he hit the ground a little too promptly.”
Lacey made a humph! sound, flopped onto the seat and closed her eyes.
“That’s not the attitude to take. I’m trying not to be stupid. Or stupider. What kind of sheriff sleeps with Stag Denali, enforcer and convicted murderer, after one casual meeting? It’s career suicide. Plus, to trust a guy with his reputation simply because he seems solid as a rock and is good in bed. Really good in bed.” Kateri looked over at Lacey.
Lacey was curled up and asleep.
Kateri started the car. “I know. If we don’t catch John Terrance and the slasher, I won’t have to worry about being the sheriff much longer.” The trouble was, when dealing with Councilman Venegra’s threat of impeachment, the unexpectedly vicious streak of crimes and Rainbow’s slow, long slide into death, it seemed as if Stag Denali’s arms were the one place she could safely sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
While Lacey snored in a manner totally unlike any prom queen, Kateri drove to the Good Knight Manor Bed and Breakfast.
Kateri needed to take a moment to see her best friend; this morning Merida had been scared to death, and a law enforcement presence might help frighten off the mouth breathers and knuckle draggers—although possibly not the murderers and rapists. Still, hope springs eternal.
Of course, while she was at the bed-and-breakfast, she’d get to see her sister, too.
God help her.
When she parked at the curb, Lacey was on her feet, wagging her tail and ready to go. The clear message was that thirty minutes of sleep could be refreshing.
Kateri could only imagine.
Together they walked the shadowy path, up the rickety stairs and over to the grand front door. Kateri read the plaque:
GOOD KNIGHT MANOR BED AND BREAKFAST
IF NO ANSWER, WALK IN.
She knocked. No one opened the door, so she did as the sign instructed and walked in.
Lacey trotted in on her heels.
The entry looked like an Addams Family nightmare. To the left all the doors were shut. To the right a parlor had been attractively arranged, set up for an evening of wine and appetizers. On the wall, Kateri saw a cutesy sign inviting her to use the ship’s bell and small mallet, but from the back in the depths of the mansion, she heard raised voices.
She moved slowly toward those voices, reluctant to get involved in a domestic dispute—they were always messy and seldom rewarding—yet one voice was male and abusive, one softly female and pleading.
Trouble. Kateri had walked into trouble.
What else was new?
With a whispered word and a soft gesture, she instructed Lacey to wait in the entry. She eased toward the back of the house, through the empty kitchen, then stood to one side of the large, walk-in pantry. She couldn’t see the occupants, but she could hear them.
“You owe me!” the male voice said.
“If you would simply work for me…”
“Work! Why would I work? For you? After everything you did to me?”
“I didn’t do anything to you!”
“You let me go to prison!”
“You were robbing convenience stores!”
“You wouldn’t give me any of the money.”
“I told you. They caught me. I had to save myself. You could have run—”
“And never come back to plague you again. Yeah, thanks.”
Kateri heard a clatter, a crash, a woman’s cry, and rushed to stand in the doorway.
A tall young man, red-faced and furious, swept cans, boxes and bottles off the shelves. Flour flew. Glass crashed. Fruit and pickle juice sprayed.
The older woman grabbed at his arm and hollered, “No. Stop! Or I will—”
“Excuse me,” Kateri said firmly and loudly. “Is there a problem?”
The two froze.
The man glimpsed her uniform, dropped his arm, turned his head away. He spoke in a quiet, orderly voice, like a second grader caught feeding the dog his homework. “I was, um, going out to work on the garage. ’Scuse me.” He brushed past Kateri and out the kitchen door.
Kateri watched—and wondered. In the short time she’d been listening, she’d heard the guy go from threate
ning to violent to impressively orderly. Was this the man who’d terrorized Merida? “Are you okay?” Kateri asked the older woman.
“Fine. I just…” She looked around. “What a mess!”
“Do you want to press charges?”
“Against … him? No. No, not at all. He’s … new here. My new handyman. Evan. Evan doesn’t want me to criticize his efforts, but he’ll be … he’ll work out. I am not someone who is easily intimidated.” The woman edged her way out of the pantry. “Oh, dear. Susie will not be happy.”
“Susie?”
“My cleaning lady, Susie Robinson. You … you’re the sheriff.”
“Yes, I’m Kateri Kwinault.”
“Then you probably know her all too well. The poor dear has four children and a husband who beats her. I imagine occasionally you get called to her house?”
“No, I don’t recall any Susie Robinson.”
Phoebe said bracingly, “Don’t feel bad. You’re new at the job. I’m sure soon you’ll remember the names of your regulars.”
“Actually I was the interim sheriff and—”
The lady interrupted. “I’m Phoebe Glass, the proprietress of the Good Knight Manor Bed and Breakfast. What can I do for you?”
Kateri shook hands, noting Phoebe’s fingers were trembling and her gaze slid away to the side.
Her body language said she knew Kateri could and probably had heard the altercation and was drawing unfortunate conclusions. And in fact, Kateri would do a little poking around in Phoebe Glass’s background. “I came to see Merida. She lives here?”
“Yes. Lovely girl. She went for a run. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.” Phoebe frowned. “Did you know she can’t speak?”
“I am aware.”
“You can wait in the parlor. This way.” Phoebe led the way out of the kitchen and toward the entry. “I wish she had told me. She must be self-conscious about her handicap, but I am the last person to judge someone for being unable to properly communicate.” Phoebe seemed to realize her faux pas, and rattled on. “Not that she can’t properly communicate, of course, in her way. Isn’t the computer tablet a grand invention when it comes to helping all of us, especially her, get by? Here’s the parlor.” Phoebe’s tone cooled perceptibly. “Oh! Miss Palmer, I see you found our parlor more acceptable this morning than you did last night.”
Lilith sat in a high-backed, cushioned chair turned sideways to the door. Lifting her head from her book, she icily stared at Phoebe Glass. “I could hardly expect to spend all my time in that tiny bedroom you assigned me.”
“I had to bump another guest to fit you in!”
“Yes.” Lilith transferred her attention to Kateri. “Katherine, do you never groom before you go out in public?”
Kateri thought about the 2:30 A.M. call, the bloody crime scene, the subdued officers, the coroner pointing out the tear in Carolyn Abner’s skin where the killer had abandoned his work, the reports, the paperwork, the visit to the Gem Lounge … “This is as groomed as I get.”
“I heard there was a murder this morning?” Phoebe asked. “I didn’t expect that kind of crime when I moved to Virtue Falls.”
“You weren’t paying attention, then,” Lilith said. “A few years ago they had quite the string of ghastly murders. It was in all the news.”
“The visitors’ bureau certainly never mentioned any killers!” Phoebe huffed.
“No. They wouldn’t, would they?” Lilith lifted the hardcover in her lap. “Yet here on your shelves is a fictionalized accounting of the murders. Perhaps you should peruse it.”
“A lodger must have left it here,” Phoebe said. “I’ll read it when you’re done.”
To Kateri’s astonishment, Lacey popped her head up over the arm of Lilith’s chair.
But Kateri’s astonishment was nothing compared to Phoebe’s. “Miss Palmer, I had no idea you brought a dog into the bed-and-breakfast. I’m afraid that’s not permissible.”
“Lacey is my dog.” Kateri moved toward the chair. “I’ll remove her at once.”
“Nonsense!” Lilith shut her book. “Mrs. Glass likes dogs. Don’t you, Mrs. Glass?”
Phoebe smiled. She wasn’t happy, but she smiled because liking dogs was required, and not liking the sheriff’s dog might lead to trouble. For some reason, Mrs. Glass was anxious to avoid trouble. “Of course Lacey is welcome as long as she’s visiting and not staying. Since you ladies wish to visit, I’ll be going to the kitchen to clean up and start tomorrow’s breakfast.”
“Next time you indulge in an argument, do try not to shout.” Lilith watched Phoebe for her reaction. “Sound echoes so through these old houses, don’t you know?”
Phoebe smiled again. Still. With clenched teeth. “Sound is deceptive in these old houses. Really … deceptive.”
Lilith scratched Lacey’s head. “Katherine, this is a beautiful cocker spaniel. Who’s the breeder?”
“I don’t know that there was a breeder. I don’t know that Lacey is a purebred. Someone dumped her in a ditch half-starved and I found her.”
“Oh, no! Who would abandon such a beautiful girl?”
Lacey leaned her head against Lilith.
Kateri had forgotten. Whatever awful accusations could be made about Lilith, she had a way with animals, all animals. Usually Kateri trusted Lacey’s judgment. Now she wished that wasn’t the case.
“I assure you, regardless of the circumstances in which you found her, this is a purebred dog.” Because Lilith was never wrong.
“It doesn’t matter to me. I love her anyway.”
“Of course you do.” In that abrupt fashion of hers, Lilith said, “Katherine, you have blood on your cuffs.”
Kateri looked down, saw the brown stains, remembered too many deadly details and leaned a little harder on her staff.
Lilith said, “Mrs. Glass, would you bring the sheriff some ice water?”
Phoebe zeroed in on Kateri’s face. “Of course!” She headed for the kitchen.
“Sit down before you fall down.” Lilith pointed to the chair opposite her. “One doesn’t suppose being sick at the sight of blood is much of an endorsement of your law enforcement skills.”
“That question never came up in the campaign.” Kateri sat down. “I didn’t vomit, unlike two of my men.”
Lilith waved the men’s queasiness away.
Tail wagging, Lacey stood up on Lilith’s chair and eyed Kateri.
Kateri broke into a smile. “Come on, sweetheart.” She patted her lap.
Lacey leaped and slammed into Kateri’s ribs.
Kateri winced, but considered it a fair price to pay to hold a wiggling blond cocker spaniel with warm brown eyes and luxuriously long ears. As she rubbed that soft head, she could feel her blood pressure go down and her annoyance fade. Not that Lilith wouldn’t get both roiling again.
Lilith learned forward and in a quiet voice confided, “I met a young woman who is staying here.”
Oh, no. “Merida?”
“You know her?”
“I met her the other day at the Oceanview Café.” That was the truth. Not the whole truth, but Kateri needed to tread carefully. Lilith was far too sharp for comfort. And nosy. So nosy.
“Merida wasn’t her name when I met her. I was in India at a fund-raiser for the preservation of ancient monuments in Pakistan. Her husband was Nauplius Brassard.”
That rocked Kateri back on her heels. “You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Lilith’s fist clenched. “Dreadful man. Nauplius Brassard told me about his admiration of the Indian tradition of suttee, where a wife sacrificed herself on her husband’s funeral pyre. As if any woman would sacrifice herself for him.”
“Huh.” Kateri hadn’t had time to speculate on what had happened during the years Merry had disappeared from her life. “Did Merida love him?”
“She stood by him, indulged him, did everything in her power to anticipate his every whim. She was a doormat.”
“Merida?”
�
�Her name at the time was Helen. Helen Brassard.” Kateri must have looked disbelieving, for Lilith said, “Look her up. I did. There are photos online. She is changed, but it is definitely her.”
“Changed how?”
“She was … classic. Now she has no style whatsoever.”
“Hmm.” Merida hid so many secrets …
Lilith stared at Kateri. “You know her.”
Damn Lilith! No one was more selfish—or, if it profited her, more likely to be perceptive to the point of discomfort. Kateri bent her head to look at Lacey, and to hide her face. “I didn’t say I knew her.”
“I think you do.” Lilith sat back in her chair and tapped her finger to her forehead. “Why wouldn’t you want to admit it? The only sensible answer is—because I know her, too. From Baltimore, I suppose. That’s the only place our acquaintances intersected. I never forget a face … but faces can be changed, and she does remind me of someone else.” Again Lilith leaned forward and bent the force of her formidable will on Kateri. “Where did you say you knew her?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The front door quietly opened, quietly shut, and careful footsteps made their way across the entry.
From the direction of the kitchen, Phoebe Glass called heartily, “Miss Falcon, you have arrived exactly on time. Sheriff Kwinault and Miss Palmer are in the parlor waiting for you. We’re about to have refreshments. Won’t you join us?”
The footsteps paused, then continued.
“Do come. We’re so convivial!”
Merida followed Phoebe into the parlor. She wore purple cotton yoga pants, a man’s wide-armed T-shirt, a pair of white leather running shoes and carried a small one-shoulder leather backpack. She had a bloody scratch across her cheek, and sweat rimmed her hairline. She wiped her face with the hem of her shirt, leaving a damp stain, and she was silently panting.
She looked glorious.
She smiled widely at Kateri. Nodded politely to Lilith. Spelled, “A good day for a run. I’ve got to grab a shower,” and looked meaningfully at Kateri.
Kateri patted Lacey and when Lacey jumped down, Kateri came to her feet. “Now that I know you’re settled here, Lilith, I’ll go on my way.”
Lilith’s narrow face grew chill with scorn. “Wait. You haven’t yet given me your report.”
The Woman Who Couldn't Scream Page 14
