by Jenna Kernan
“Waiting.” Tina thumbed over her shoulder but did not look back. “I wanted to speak to you before you… that is… Juliette said I needed to tell you…” Tina broke their gaze.
“Tell me what?”
She peeked through her lashes, like a naughty child. Both her hesitancy and flushed face put Nadine on guard.
“Listen, Dr. Finch. I have a confession.”
Nine
Nadine hated confessions and was guaranteed not to like whatever Tina said next. Had she spoken to a reporter?
“Yes?”
“I’ve been writing a prisoner.”
Nadine’s heart sank. Tina had been struggling with the urge to reconnect with her mother. Unfortunately, Tina’s mother was a bad person with no moral compass who would certainly try to manipulate her.
“Your mom?” Nadine guessed.
“Your brother.”
The shock of this ricocheted through Nadine like a rifle shot.
“What?”
“I saw his email address and I wondered if he knew my mom’s… the guy my mother worked with on…”
“The murder they committed?” Nadine furnished.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I wondered if Arlo could find out what this guy was like.”
“And why, again? You’re talking about a man who helped your mother bury an old woman alive. What more could you possibly need to know?”
Tina glanced down, breaking the eye contact.
“He was with my mom for a couple years. I thought he might be able to tell me more about what she was like. And maybe… maybe it was his idea. You know, he talked her into it.”
Nadine recalled Tina was a teen when her mother was taken from her. She had guilt issues over the possibility that her mother had done this terrible thing in a twisted effort to provide for her little girl.
“Your mother abducted an elderly woman, lured her into her vehicle.” Nadine knew this because she read every article available on Tina’s mother in an effort to understand Tina herself better. “It was her idea to bury her alive and she was there digging the grave and covering a living human being with soil. Your mom does not get a pass on this, Tina, no matter how much you would like to believe she was somehow victimized.”
“I just thought—”
“She spent the money from her victim’s accounts.”
“On an apartment for us. On food and…” Her words were choked by tears.
Nadine gathered her up. She knew that Tina’s mother had bought lottery tickets, a new luxury sports car, clothing, makeup and tickets to one of the theme parks. Nadine could only imagine what Tina felt remembering that particular outing with her mom, whose sudden unexplained windfall would later be exposed to all.
“I’m sorry.” Nadine rubbed her assistant’s back.
Tina sniffed. “No. I’m sorry. It was stupid. I just wanted my mom to be… I don’t know, the victim.”
“That would be easier.” She thought of Demko, still blaming his half brother for his father’s murder.
Tina pulled back and used her fingertips to carefully wipe the mascara from under her eyes. She looked the picture of a forlorn waif. Was that why Nadine had taken her under her wing?
“How do you deal with it? What they did?” she asked.
Nadine pressed her lips together as the rage surged.
“By stopping people like them.”
Looking at Tina was like looking in a mirror at a younger version of herself.
Nadine offered her a napkin from her bag and her assistant dabbed the moisture from her face.
“Tina, my brother is not a great resource for you. He’s in prison for sexual assault.”
“He told me.”
“Did he also tell you it wasn’t assault? It was rape. He accepted a deal in exchange for a guilty plea.” Nadine struggled to keep her composure.
“But he’s up for parole,” said Tina.
Nadine hoped this was not heading in the direction she feared. Arlo was not going to form a relationship with her admin… Unless he already had. Arlo could be as manipulative as their mother, with whom Nadine had cut all ties.
Her mother had no way to contact her. But Nadine still corresponded with Arlo, and he still spoke to their mom. And now, it seemed, he also spoke to Tina Ruz.
“What does he want?” asked Nadine.
“Who?” asked Tina, but her cheeks flushed and she was rubbing her palms together like a woman trying to wash something away.
Tina hadn’t made this confession out of guilt or remorse. She doubted it was even Juliette’s urging.
So why? The answer settled heavily on her shoulders.
“My brother, Arlo. What did he ask you to do?”
“He asked me to tell you that there is something important in your email from him. He said he wrote you yesterday, but you didn’t write back. He wants you to call him.”
“I’ve been a little busy,” Nadine said, regretting her words instantly, not so much because they were churlish, but because she didn’t think her admin had a right to this kind of access to her mess of a family.
“Yes, I told him that,” said Tina.
Just what kind of correspondence was this?
“It’s something about your mother. That’s all he told me. He’s worried about you.”
That seemed unlikely. But despite his faults, she loved her brother. That did not mean she trusted him.
“I’ll check my mail.”
“Now?”
Nadine made a face. Tina held her ground.
“All right, yes. Right now.”
“Great. We’ll be waiting at the bar.”
Tina reversed course, speeding away as fast as she could without running.
Nadine perched on a lounge chair and drew out her phone.
There were two emails from Arlo. She read them in order. Afterward, she thumped back in her chair.
“Son of a bitch,” she murmured.
Nadine’s mother had gotten herself a biographer. Arlo had correctly concluded that Nadine would want to prepare herself for the inevitable intrusion of the writer’s attempt to get an interview.
Which would not be happening.
Arlo had agreed to speak to the guy, because as he put it, “I have no reputation to protect and nothing but time on my hands.” He ended by writing that he had something else he needed to speak to her about. Something “important” and he hoped to see her this weekend.
Nadine dashed off a quick message to Arlo, thanking him for the heads-up. She didn’t like Arlo and Tina being pen pals, not only because such a relationship was bad for her assistant, but also because she really did not want Tina nosing around in her miserable childhood.
She knew it was a part of her. A terrible part, and running didn’t seem to help as it kept jumping up to slap her in the face.
She’d get to the bottom of this. But she’d have to wait until tomorrow for visiting hours.
Juliette and Tina had already ventured out to the same pub as last night when Nadine headed upstairs to dress. Finally she and Clint were going to have an evening alone.
She took her time preparing, choosing her best underthings and a red dress, waving the flag before the bull.
He spotted her the moment she stepped into the reception area and answered his grin with a seductive smile.
He wore a blazer and tie. Had he realized this was the same outfit he had worn on the day they met?
“You look spectacular,” he said and took her hands, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He straightened. “Nice perfume.”
“And you smell… enticing,” she said and then drew in another long breath of his cologne, loving the earthy aroma with a hint of spice.
He met her gaze; the intense contact made her body warm with liquid heat. Anticipation shimmered over her skin as she imagined finally having him alone.
“Did you pick a restaurant?” he asked.
“I did. It’s not very far. The food rating is only
average, but I think you’ll enjoy the view.”
“Lakeside?” he asked.
“No. It’s got a view of your king-sized bed.”
That sent his eyebrows high on his wide forehead. She giggled and ran a finger down his long nose.
“Ordering in,” she said.
“Any time for appetizers?” His brow now wiggled suggestively.
“I haven’t ordered yet,” she said.
He offered his arm and escorted her back down the hall to his room. Upon opening the door, she found his room empty.
She turned to face Clint. “Where’s Molly?”
“With the sitter.” He looked sheepish, closing and locking the door. “I thought you might come back to my room and I wanted us to have some privacy.”
She glanced about at the familiar toys strewn over the floor, including Molly’s favorite, a pink flamingo, now missing a wing, and the manatee from Big Water Marina missing its flat paddle-like tail. Demko’s shoes were all high up in the open closet, out of range of Molly. What she didn’t see was a dog bed. “She sleeps with you, doesn’t she?”
“Uh… Yeah.”
“Well, it’s my turn.” Nadine laughed and then reached for him.
He drew her in, taking her mouth in a kiss that sizzled along her nerve endings. She came up breathless several moments later.
“Wow,” he said, his breathing also labored. “Have I missed you!”
She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the reassuring strength of him and the absence of his Kevlar vest. She was separated from all that warm velvet skin by only a thin sheath of cotton.
His hands went behind her and pulled the zipper tab, opening her dress. She stepped back to allow the garment to fall, enjoying his expression as he took a long look at the black lace covering her breasts and clinging to her hips.
His jaw tightened and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
“You’re killing me,” he said, shrugging out of his blazer and tossing it aside. Then he yanked off his tie, tugging it over his head, and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.
Together they stripped him down to his boxers. One of his shoes struck the door as he lifted her into his arms and swept her up, tossing her onto the bed, where she bounced. She scooted backward before he landed beside her. He drew away her panties with his teeth and eager fingers as she released her bra. His boxers sailed past her and caught on the lampshade. He held her panties to his face and inhaled. The erotic sight made her skin stipple. Then he tossed them away.
The thrill of anticipation trickled over her skin. The waiting was done. He was all hers.
She reached. He stroked. They pressed together and apart and together again, unable to get close enough as they lifted their heads to gasp for air, struggling to contain the inferno of need roaring between them.
Clint retrieved a condom from the side table, tearing open the packaging. Nadine straddled his hips and rolled the condom over the beautiful erect length of him. Then she lowered herself over him.
They moved together, striving toward satisfaction. Their long absence and the need brought them to a swift plateau that burst first within her. She arched and he drove forward, holding her hips as he followed her over the edge. The waves of pleasure rippled outward, curling her toes.
She gasped and collapsed upon his slick body, sliding over warm flesh as he stroked the long muscles of her back. He lifted one arm and threw it across his eyes.
“That was amazing.”
“We’re amazing,” she murmured.
Her body went slack as the lethargy stole through her. She closed her eyes, floating on the wave of contentment and savoring the sound of the steady thump of his slowing heartbeat.
Next came his snore and she smiled, pressing her palm to his chest to better feel the steady drum of his heart and each long intake of breath. She reached for the blankets, flipping them over their cooling bodies.
The growl of her stomach woke them both. She glanced at the clock beside the bed and saw she’d been asleep only twenty minutes or so. She chuckled at the sight of his boxers, dangling from the lamp finial.
“We better get you fed.” He lifted her hand and kissed her palm.
He rolled to his feet and she growled her displeasure as he retrieved the menu and returned to bed. After a few minutes’ discussion he called in their order and then placed the handset on the cradle.
“Forty minutes,” he said.
“I could starve in that amount of time.”
“Not if I distract you.”
She smiled. “I don’t think you’re that good. I haven’t eaten a thing in six hours.”
“Is that a challenge?”
He did not wait for an answer but disappeared beneath the covers.
Nadine did not think about food again until her heart rate returned to resting and she focused on the hunt for her panties. She found them in the armchair and slipped them on.
“Would you like my robe?” he asked.
She accepted the offer. When the knock sounded at the door, Nadine was dressed in his striped robe and he wore only a tight cotton T-shirt and overlarge running shorts.
The porter set up in record time and left with a hefty tip in appreciation. Nadine did not even wait for Clint to return from locking the door before she had the plate covers off and her napkin on her lap.
She sat in the armchair before the table. Clint retrieved the desk chair and set it across from her.
Conversation ceased as they ate. She liked that he let her be quiet. A natural extrovert, Clint could have overwhelmed her. But he seemed to know that she required stillness to think and eat.
Sometime later, she wiped her mouth for the final time and sighed, leaning back. Nadine had left nothing on her plate but the onions that accompanied her steak.
“May I?” he asked, motioning toward her leavings.
She gestured him to help himself. He did, adding them to the remains of his baked potato.
“I’m so full,” she complained.
As he finished, she fiddled with the shredded end of the robe tie. Molly’s work, she suspected.
She glanced at the bed, wanting to return to the warmth of his body, but knowing she should head to her room. She didn’t want to presume or to give him the idea that she planned to move in with him.
She told him about the correspondence between Arlo and Tina and about her mother securing a biographer.
“No wonder you’re tense.”
“Not anymore. My arms feel like noodles,” she said.
“Glad to help.” He carried the tray away and left it outside the door.
“Oh, one bit of good news. Not good exactly, I suppose. Anyway, Santander was picked up by Immigration.” She told him what Tina had learned.
“That’s too bad,” he said. “But at least you can cross her off your list.”
She made a humming sound in her throat and let her eyes drift closed.
“How’s the offender profile coming?”
Nadine’s eyes popped open.
“Full of holes.” The kind that could only be filled by more evidence. More death.
“You know what you’re doing.”
She did. Because she thought like them. Understood them at a deep, visceral level. She could be good at this if she let that part of her out. That dangerous part she suppressed, trying to deprive it of oxygen with years of therapy.
All her breakthroughs came from standing in the place of a killer. In her mind, she had already done it, murdered both of those victims after their deaths. Thought about it, felt it, dreamed of it. She was like her mother, apart from one thing. She hadn’t killed anyone.
Except in her mind.
“What have you got so far?”
“Offender is white, male, unmarried, athletic, employed and comfortable in the outdoors. Drives a truck with a cab.”
He interrupted. “A cab?”
“He’s a hunter. Hunters like SUVs and trucks, but he transported his victims, so…”
&
nbsp; “…wouldn’t want the bodies in the rear section surrounded by all those windows. Yeah, a truck with a cab. Okay.”
She continued. “Hunting experience is likely. There’s more. I’ll forward it to you.”
“Sounds a lot like Arnold. Our guy who found the bodies.”
“Maybe. Oh, I almost forgot.”
She told him about the DNA sample collected with Arnold’s discarded cigar.
“I wonder if they’ll find a match.”
“We’ll see. There’s a lot we don’t know about him yet.”
“Like if he drives a truck.” He made a face, then went on. “I can add one thing. I swung by Arnold’s place this afternoon. He wasn’t there, but I had a walk around. His backyard has about a dozen birdhouses in it.”
“You promised to include me along on your field trips.”
“Whenever possible.” He took her hand and pressed a kiss onto her palm.
“Any hunting or fishing gear?”
“None evident. He lives in a mobile home. Windows were covered. Couldn’t see inside. Outdoors is typical. Chairs. Rusty BBQ grill and junk laying around. Just from the refusal to provide a sample, I’d move him into my suspects list.”
“Skogen has. You know that if Juliette has the timeline right, Rita Karnowski might have been dumped only hours before Arnold found her.”
“Or came back to visit her.”
“It’s possible.”
If she wasn’t so exhausted and so full, she’d pursue that tempting line of dark hair that curled above the collar of his shirt.
Clint took her hand and drew it to his mouth, dropping a kiss there. She leaned in, gave him the sort of kiss reserved for saying good night, and then swept the covers aside.
“Where you going?” he asked.
“I’ve got to look over my notes on Arnold and see if Juliette has the lab results yet.” She moved about the bed, collecting her underthings and dress.
“It’s nearly midnight.”
She slipped into her panties and bra, then hesitated.
He reached. “Stay.”
“Better not.” She backed away, clutching her dress before her.
“Why?”
“Separate rooms for now. Okay?”
“Is it Molly?”
“No! I love your dog. But not so much in the bedroom.”
