The sexy siren she’d seen in the garden just now was a far cry from the demure, steadfast woman who’d served her tea and cookies on the front porch, who’d cooked and cleaned and tended to Dr. Nance’s every need for nearly thirty years without ever once complaining.
Nikki tried to cut her some slack. Everyone grieved in his or her own way. Dr. Nance would probably be the first to applaud Dessie for getting on with her life.
But what about this Clete person’s claim that the house was now Dessie’s to do with as she pleased? How did either of them know the provisions of Dr. Nance’s will?
This is none of your business, Nikki.
It was and it wasn’t. Dessie’s love life might be off-limits, but as the Nance County coroner, she had an obligation to gather as much information as she could before reaching a conclusion as to the cause of death. Dr. Nance’s journal might be invaluable in determining his frame of mind, but there was a proper way to go about obtaining it. For all she knew, the journal might already be in police custody.
Nikki told herself to turn around and head back home. Dessie had done nothing wrong. She was entitled to her privacy. Entitled to mourn Dr. Nance’s death or celebrate his life in any way she saw fit.
Instead of retreating, Nikki turned to sweep her gaze over the street and the neighboring houses before cutting across the grass to the end of the porch. The blinds in Dr. Nance’s study hadn’t been drawn all the way, giving her a glimpse inside. It was just as she remembered. So nostalgically familiar, she almost expected to see Dr. Nance seated behind his desk, surrounded by his books and keepsakes.
Nikki glanced away as a fresh wave of grief washed over her. She had no right to be here, but she needed to be here.
She tried the latches on the French doors, not surprised to find one of them unlocked. Despite his affluence and position, Dr. Nance had never been a stickler for security. He’d always seen the best in people.
Slipping inside, Nikki stood with eyes closed as she drew in the familiar scents of leather, furniture polish and the ubiquitous undercurrent of peppermint.
From inside the study, she could barely hear the music outside. She couldn’t hear voices at all, or the subtle lap of water against the pool steps. She was grateful for the silence. She didn’t need that image in her head.
Moving silently across the room, she scanned the bookshelves, appreciative as always of the variety of her mentor’s reading material. A few of his favorites had been grouped separately from the others. Perusing those titles was bittersweet. They were some of Nikki’s favorites, too. She and Dr. Nance had shared a love of reading, particularly the classics. She’d always admired his insatiable curiosity. No matter his age or success, he’d never tired of learning.
She left the books and moved to the rear window to glance out. She could glimpse the garden and part of the pool from that vantage, but she didn’t see Dessie or her companion. She could no longer hear the music, either. Her gaze lifted to the darkened garage apartment. Maybe they’d gone upstairs.
Turning away from the window, she hurried to the desk, checking the drawers and then the credenza, but the journal was nowhere to be found. Maybe it was in Dr. Nance’s bedroom or his office at the clinic. She’d check with Dr. Wingate first thing Monday morning.
Heading for the French doors, she stopped in her tracks and slowly turned back to the bookshelves. One of the titles in Dr. Nance’s favorites pile suddenly leaped out at her: The Old Man and the Sea.
He’d lent her a paperback edition not long after her mother had left town. Nikki had finished the book in two nights and then they’d sat out on the front porch discussing the themes and motifs. Truth be told, she’d been a little bored by the story and had paid scant attention then to the life lesson Dr. Nance had intended to instill. Later, especially in med school, she’d understood only too well the importance of never giving up in the face of defeat.
As the memories flooded over her, she retraced her steps across the room and plucked the thin novel from the shelf, glancing through the pages and then reading a passage here and there until something else came back to her. Something that had been nipping at the fringes of her memory. Now she flashed back to their final conversation when she’d run into Dr. Nance unexpectedly in town. What was it he’d said to her about his upcoming fishing trip?
Sure you won’t humor an old man and come with me? This time next week we can be out to sea, not a care between us. Might even go out deep enough to catch a big blue.
A big blue. A marlin. The fish from Hemingway’s tale.
Nikki’s heart thudded as she thumbed back through the pages. Had Dr. Nance left a clue for her?
She took the book over to the lamplight and sat down behind the desk, examining the worn binding carefully. A tiny piece of paper had been stuffed up in the spine.
Voices sounded nearby and she rose to check out the window before realizing someone was coming down the hallway toward the study. She only had time to grab the book and dive underneath the desk before the door opened and someone came inside.
“I told you, Clete. I’ve been all through this room. It’s not here.”
“I know what you said, babe, and I believe you. But another set of eyes can’t hurt.”
“I just feel bad, pawing through his things like this. He always valued his privacy.”
“The man’s dead. He won’t mind.” A pause. “Did you leave that lamp on?”
“It’s on a timer.”
“Let’s hope no one saw it from the street. Last thing we need is somebody dropping by with another greasy casserole.”
“Then turn off the light and let’s go back outside,” Dessie said nervously.
“In a minute, darlin’. Is there a safe in here?”
“Not that I ever found.”
“You checked all the desk drawers? The credenza? The bookshelves? We can’t leave any stone unturned. You know how important this is.”
Dessie suddenly sounded annoyed. “I’ve taken this study apart and put it back together a dozen times, just like I’ve done to every other room in this house. If there was anything to find, I would have come across it by now.”
“I don’t mean to be a pain,” he said in a placating voice. “It’s just...we’ve come this far. We can’t be too careful.”
“Clete—”
“What is it, babe?”
Nikki couldn’t see either of them from her hiding place. She tried to picture the scenario. The man’s voice was closer. He sounded as if he stood on the other side of the desk, but Dessie’s voice came from across the room, as if she were hovering on the threshold, hesitant to enter Dr. Nance’s sanctuary.
“I just had an awful chill,” she said.
“It’s the AC. It’s always cold inside after a swim.”
“It’s not the air-conditioning. Something’s wrong. I can feel it. Someone’s been in here.” Nikki heard the soft slap of her flip-flops as she entered the room. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Dr. Nance was here.”
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Clete said.
“I’m not so sure about that. I’ve felt a presence in this house ever since they found him.”
“Now, don’t you go getting spooked on me, Desiree Dupre. Eye on the prize, remember? In another few weeks, we’ll be sipping mojitos on a secluded beach in the Caribbean. No worries, no nosy neighbors. No one around for miles. Clothing optional, of course.”
Another silence followed by a rustling sound.
“Stop it, Clete. Not in here,” Dessie whispered. “Let’s go back up to my apartment.”
“Whatever you say, babe. Just let me have a quick look—”
He moved around the desk. In another moment, he’d pull back the chair and spy Nikki. She had no excuse for being inside Dr. Nance’s office. If she’d been able to justify her visit, she wouldn’t be hiding undern
eath the desk.
She held her breath and clutched the book. The chair squeaked as he rolled it back. He was right there in front of her—
The doorbell sounded and he paused. Dessie hurried over to the French doors to glance out on the porch.
“It’s that woman again.” Her soft drawl hardened unexpectedly with contempt.
“What woman?”
“Lila Wilkes. I told you about her. She’s already been by once today to talk about the funeral. I tried to explain to her that I need more time, but she won’t leave me alone.”
“Tell her there won’t be a funeral. Tell her it was Dr. Nance’s last wish.”
“That won’t stop her. She’ll insist on some kind of memorial service, with or without my help.”
“Then let her have at it. That’s what she really wants, isn’t it? To be in charge? It’ll be one less thing you have to worry about.”
“I guess, but Dr. Nance never had much use for Lila Wilkes. It doesn’t seem right, letting her have the final say.”
“Dessie, Dessie. How many times do I have to say it? Charles Nance is no longer your concern. Let the old biddy have her fun.”
The bell pealed again, sounding more insistent this time. Nikki could imagine Lila Wilkes on the porch, thumb pressed to the button as her brow furrowed in determination.
“She must have seen the light from the street,” Dessie said. “I should have thought to turn off that timer.”
“Too late now. Go see what she wants and then send her on her way. I’ll turn out the light when I’m finished in here.”
Nikki tracked the sound of Dessie’s footfalls to the hallway door. “Make sure the blinds are drawn so she can’t see you from outside. And for God’s sake, be quiet until she leaves.”
Clete moved away from the desk. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” he teased. “I’ve always had a way with widows.”
“Lord help me. Last thing we need is for her to get an eyeful of you.”
He laughed seductively.
A note of fear crept into Dessie’s voice. “I’m serious, Clete. You keep your distance from that woman. She may be the town do-gooder, but she’s also got a big mouth.”
Dessie’s footsteps receded down the hallway, leaving Nikki alone in the room with Clete, whoever he was. She was still holding her breath, still clutching the book as she drew herself up into a tight ball. Clete moved back around the desk and opened the top drawer. He rummaged through the contents, then closed the drawer softly and turned to the credenza, where he rummaged through more drawers. Finally, he gave up, turned off the lamp and left the room.
Nikki waited for several minutes before she scrambled from her hiding place and slipped out one of the French doors. The evening was still hot and steamy. Sweat trickled down her spine as she jumped off the porch and crouched in the bushes, giving Lila Wilkes enough time to exit before venturing into the moonlight. She was just about to move away from the house when a slight sound startled her back into the shadows.
Lila slipped along the porch, glancing behind her toward the front entrance before easing up to the French doors to peer in. Then she turned to scan the landscaping and the street beyond. Nikki kept low, but for a moment she was certain the woman had discovered her. Lila’s keen gaze seemed to vector in on the very spot where Nikki huddled. She even came to the edge of the porch and peered down into the shrubbery.
“I know you’re in there,” she said softly.
Nikki hunkered lower.
“You rascal, you. Letting everyone think you’re dead.”
What the—
“Come by the house when you’re finished gallivanting. I’ll give you some tuna. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
A meow sounded from deeper in the bushes. Nikki didn’t move even when she felt something soft rub up against her leg.
“Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Come out and let me see you.”
The cat didn’t budge. Instead, he pressed closer, gazing up at Nikki in the dark with wide, glimmering eyes.
“Have it your way,” Lila muttered as she turned back to the French doors. “But sooner or later, I’ll catch you. I always do,” she added in a whisper.
Chapter Eight
Adam sat on the deck, watching Dr. Nance’s cabin across the lake. He’d been out there since early evening, staring into the horizon as the colors shifted and the shadows cast by the pine forest lengthened. The water grew black as the sunset faded, and for a few breathless moments, heavy darkness descended until the moon rose above the treetops to cast a misty glow over the eerie landscape.
Somewhere downstream, the bellow of an alligator joined the background cacophony of the bullfrogs and whip-poor-wills and the eerie cry of his grandmother’s roosting peafowl. With nightfall, the mosquitoes came out with a vengeance. Adam sprayed his ankles with repellent and then got up to wander down the wooden steps to the dock.
The johnboat bobbled gently against the tire bumpers, tempting him to climb in and motor across the lake to have another look inside the cabin. But if someone else watched and waited, he didn’t want to scare that person away. He’d been on enough stakeouts to learn the value of patience.
He sat down in one of the bolted chairs and stretched his legs in front of him, settling in for a long night. Folding his hands behind his head, he relaxed into his mission. Given free rein, his thoughts drifted back to his earlier conversation with Nikki Dresden. He hadn’t been able to get a good read on how she’d taken his proposal. Not surprising, since he didn’t know her that well. At least, not this version of Nikki Dresden. But the old Nikki Dresden? The dark, dramatic teenage Nikki Dresden who’d dressed in black and claimed as her safe haven the tumbledown ruins of a former psychiatric hospital? That Nikki Dresden he knew only too well.
He wondered how surprised—or upset—she’d be to learn that he’d found her journal that summer while searching through the Ruins looking for clues to Riley Cavanaugh’s disappearance. His first thought when he’d pried up the loose floorboard and uncovered the notebook was that a former mental patient had left it behind. The writing was deep, despondent and hauntingly beautiful. It wasn’t until he’d come across a passage about Riley’s kidnapping that he realized the diary belonged to Nikki Dresden, the enigmatic girl with dyed black hair and soulful eyes.
He’d kept reading, justifying the invasion of her privacy by telling himself he might learn something that could lead him to the missing girl. He’d heard the rumors by then. The whispers of a satanic cult that had implicated Nikki and her friends. He’d found nothing, of course. The Belle Pointe Five were innocent in the kidnapping, but he wondered if the secrets and confessions that Nikki had poured out on the pages of her journal still haunted her at times.
He figured she’d gone up to the Ruins two nights ago to collect that notebook. Why else would she have pried up the loose board? Why else would she have been so flustered when he found her kneeling on the floor? Sure, the discovery of Dr. Nance’s watch had been a shock, but the realization that someone had taken her journal must have been a thunderbolt.
Adam could only speculate as to why she’d left it there all those years. She must have had her reasons. Was she home tonight, wondering who’d taken it? Worried if it would turn up when she’d finally been embraced by her hometown?
Or was she fretting about their earlier conversation? Contemplating his proposition?
Did he occupy her thoughts the way she was beginning to his?
His phone dinged an incoming text and he glanced down. Nikki Dresden was so much on his mind he almost expected to see a message from her. Stephanie’s name at the top of the screen stopped him cold. His ex was about the last person he wanted to hear from tonight, but she’d always had an uncanny instinct for catching him at a low point.
She wrote: I guess you’re surprised to hear from me.
An
understatement. He stared at the screen, waiting for the old anger and bitterness to surface, but he felt strangely calm. Not indifferent, not yet, but he didn’t feel the need to respond or retort. He just wanted to go back to the solitude of his thoughts.
A few seconds ticked by before another message dinged.
We need to talk, Adam. Can I call you? It’s important.
His thumb hovered over the screen but he still didn’t answer.
I know you’re reading this. I’m going to call.
Still so sure of herself.
“Adam?”
The voice coming so unexpectedly out of the darkness startled him. He pivoted to glance up the steps where a silhouette hovered.
He rose. “Nikki?” How easily her name slipped from his lips. How natural his name had sounded on hers.
“Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s okay. I didn’t hear you drive up.”
“I parked out on the road.” She came down the steps then, deliberately moving from the shadows so that he could see her more clearly.
She was dressed as usual in jeans, T-shirt and sneakers, but there was something different about her tonight. Her hair seemed glossier in the moonlight, her lips fuller, her eyes more luminescent. She wore an air of mystery like a subtle perfume. Or was that just his imagination playing tricks? Was he subconsciously trying to prove to himself he was over Stephanie Chambers by acknowledging his attraction to Nikki Dresden?
“I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you or anything,” she said as she tucked back her hair. The other side fell like a shimmering curtain over the side of her face. “The driveway is so overgrown, I wasn’t sure I could get through.”
“It’s tricky,” he said. “I need to do some pruning with a chain saw and machete, but I’ve grown accustomed to the privacy.”
She nodded absently. “It is private. I almost missed the house. Anyway, I knocked on your door. When you didn’t answer, I took a chance you might be down here.” Her gaze dropped to the phone he still clutched in his hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
A Desperate Search Page 10
