Love you to Death

by Shannon K. Butcher

  She stared at him for too long. “Why should I let you come?” she asked. “You don’t believe my sister’s in trouble.”

  “Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. Either way, I know this town a lot better than you do.”

  “I’m used to strange towns. I’ll manage.”

  “It’ll be faster if you have a tour guide. Faster is better, right?”

  One side of her mouth lifted in a grin. “Spoken like a true man.”

  And just like that, his mind went there, to that lovely place where sex with a woman like Elise was more than a fantasy. It was a short trip that ended with her impatient, humorless snort.

  “Get in. I don’t want to waste any more time.”

  Gary Maitland smoothed the blond curls off his wife’s forehead. Even though Wendy’s eyes were closed, he could still recall the vivid shade of blue, and the way they used to sparkle when she laughed. Or cried.

  “I can’t stay long, but I wanted to visit you before I went to work. I’ve been so busy, it’s been hard to find time to spend with you the way I should.”

  He traced the delicate arch of her eyebrow, stroking her as he spoke. He wasn’t sure whether or not she could hear him, but these visits were more for him than they were for her anyway.

  Since the accident, he missed her so much he ached. Filling the void she’d left behind had been impossible, but he’d managed to find a way to cope and move on with his life.

  “You’d like what I’ve done to your parents’ place. The pond is so much bigger now. Deeper, too. I kept the dock, though—the one we used to sit on at night when we were dating all those years ago.”

  They’d done a lot of things on that dock—none of which her parents would have approved of. Those planks of splintered wood held a lot of memories for him.

  That dock was the first place he’d ever made her cry.

  She’d been so beautiful under the moonlight, with tears glistening in her eyes. It was one of the memories he held closest to his heart—one of the many memories he used to get through each day.

  “I’ve renovated the basement, too. There’s lots of room for guests now, so you won’t be lonely when I’m at work.”

  Speaking of which, Gary checked his watch. He had more than an hour’s drive to get to work from here, and it was nearly time to go. Besides, his fingers were getting numb from the cold.

  He leaned down and kissed Wendy’s forehead. “I’ll bring you something special tonight. I’ve found just the perfect gift for you.”

  Wendy would never be the same again, but he knew his wife well enough to know what she liked.

  She always liked to be around people. His little social butterfly would flit from one person to the next, making everyone she met smile. Now that she was no longer able to go out into the world and make new friends, the least he could do was bring them to her.

  She didn’t have to know that the presents he brought to her were his leftovers—the women he found lacking. Telling her that would only upset her.

  Gary pulled the sheet back over his wife’s head and walked out of the giant freezer where he stored her remains. He made sure the door was locked and pocketed the key.

  Now that Wendy was dead, his search for the perfect woman was consuming him. The void her death had left inside him had to be filled. The emptiness was eating him alive; he had to make it stop, and the only thing that would fill him up again was the perfect woman.

  He hadn’t found her yet, but he refused to give up hope. She was out there somewhere, and Gary was going to find her.

  “Turn left here,” said Trent.

  Elise did, maneuvering her rental car down a dirty street. This was the older part of town, well away from the tidy historical downtown section, and the buildings here were sad, run-down piles of brick.

  “Slow down a bit so I can scan the alleys.”

  Elise activated the auto locks on the doors and gripped the wheel tighter. “Surely, Ashley wouldn’t be hanging out around here?”

  Trent shrugged. “Sally’s Bar is a hot spot in town for young singles, especially the college crowd. Ashley went where the men were.”

  Indignation made Elise’s back straighten. “You make it sound like she’s some kind of slut.”

  He held up a hand, and his long fingers cast a shadow over her lap. “Stop right there before you get all defensive. I like Ashley. She’s a great kid, but that doesn’t change the fact that she dates a lot of men. If you think that makes her a slut, then that’s your interpretation. I’m just stating the facts.”

  “The fact is that if a man dates around, he’s a player. If a woman does, she’s a slut.”

  “Life is full of double standards. Deal with it.”

  Elise stared at him in silence for a moment before pulling her attention back to the road. “You know, it’s a shame for such a fine body to grace such a cynical man.”

  He grunted in amusement. “If you think that’s cynical, you’ve led a sheltered life.”

  He hit the nail on the head, and it sparked years of frustration and anger. How many years had she wasted under the protective umbrella of her mother? She was nearing thirty and had really spread her wings only three years ago. After Mom died.

  It was sad that she’d had to wait for her mom to die in order to live herself.

  “Stop the personal commentary or you can walk home from here,” she told him.

  “Did I hit a nerve?” he asked sweetly.

  Elise stopped the car and unlocked the doors. She turned in her seat and glared at him. “In or out?”

  Trent had the gall to grin at her. “You’re nothing like your sister.”

  “And you’re nothing like a gentleman.”

  His grin widened. “I think I’m going to like you, Elise McBride.”

  “It’s highly unlikely.”

  Trent settled back into his seat, making himself look comfortable. “Sally’s is two blocks up on the right. After we check the parking lot, I’ll take you to the community college where Ashley goes to school.”

  “Does this mean you’re going to be good?”

  “Angelic.”

  Elise snorted in disbelief. “Yeah, right.”

  “Now who’s being cynical?”

  Elise drove to the bar, but Ashley’s bright lime-green Volvo was nowhere in sight. They cruised the streets around the community college with similar results. It was already light by the time Elise pulled into a grocery store parking lot to figure out where to go next.

  “Could she have gone out of town with one of her boyfriends?” asked Trent. “Maybe out of the country where her phone wouldn’t work?”

  “She didn’t mention she had a trip planned, but she has a tendency to be spontaneous.”

  Trent let out a bark of laughter before Elise’s glare cut him off. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But spontaneous doesn’t even begin to describe Ashley.”

  “You say that like you know her better than I do.”

  “She’s lived across the street from me for over a year. Did she ever tell you how we met?”

  “She mentioned you, but that was all.”

  “Her grass was so long it was breaking city code, so I went to mow it for her. I figured she was sick or something.”

  “She calls you Hot Lawn Guy. She mentioned your name once, but after that, I think she forgot it.”

  Trent rolled his eyes. “She hardly knows what day of the week it is, so I can see how names would be difficult.”

  “She’s not stupid,” said Elise, gathering steam to let him have it for insulting her sister.

  He held up his hands to ward her off. “Of course not. She strikes me as one of those people who are so smart they do dumb things.”

  Placated, Elise released her mental tirade.

  “So,” Trent continued with his story. “I go across the street with my mower to take care of her yard, and when I get there, her car is running. The car door is wide open, so is her front door. I worried that she was sick or hurt, so I knocked o
n the open door. She yelled for me to come in without knowing who I was.”

  Elise’s stomach sank. Ashley had always been too trusting for her own good.

  “I go in,” said Trent, “and she’s in her kitchen with her arms sunk up to the elbow in some kind of clay or plaster. All her dirty dishes are on the counter and her sink is full of the stuff.”

  “She likes to experiment with different mediums.”

  “Yeah, she said something along those lines, right before she asked if she could smear me with the stuff to make a mold. The woman didn’t even know my name.”

  “Were you shirtless?” asked Elise.

  “Yes. I was getting set to mow, and it was hot.”

  “You did it to yourself, then.”

  He ignored her opinion and went on. “My point is, I found out that she’d been home for two hours with her door open and her car running. She forgot to turn off the engine or close any of her doors. If she found something that interested her, she might go running off after it without letting you know.”

  What if he was right? What if Elise didn’t know as much about her sister as she thought?

  “I hope you’re right, Trent. I hope that Ashley is off in Paris with some sexy guy smearing him with clay or something. But I have this feeling, you know? This sickness in my stomach that tells me something’s not right.”

  “Gut instinct. You should listen to it. If you don’t, you’ll be sorry.”

  “You say that like you know from experience.”

  He looked away, staring toward the doors of the grocery store. “When did it start? This feeling?”

  “Saturday morning, your time. Ashley always called me to tell me about her Friday night adventures, but this time, she didn’t. I left her a message and tried not to think anything about it. I went to bed, slept badly. When I got up and she hadn’t returned my call, I tried again. Over and over. Pretty soon, her phone went directly to voice mail, like she’d turned it off.”

  “Or the battery went dead.”

  “Yeah. I called the police, and got on the next flight into Chicago.”

  “You’re a good sister to drop everything like that.”

  She pushed out a long breath, wishing it would ease some of her tension. It didn’t. “I guess we’ll see how good I am.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I never should have let her live alone to begin with. I know what she’s like—how distracted she can get—but she wanted her freedom. So did I. We agreed to go our separate ways after our mom died, but I never should have left her alone.”

  “She’s a grown woman, not a child. You can’t be responsible for her forever.”

  Elise shook her head, feeling the sway of her curls against her neck. They were probably frizzy again. “I agreed because it’s what I wanted, not because it’s what was good for Ashley. I see that now.”

  Trent frowned at her. It was getting bright enough to could see his face more clearly. His eyes were pale blue highlighted in gold at the center. When the sunlight hit them, the golden flecks seemed to glow.

  Elise shouldn’t have noticed, but when he was looking right at her with that expression of concern tugging at his features, it was hard not to notice. Just like it was hard not to notice the faint shadow of stubble lining his jaw, or the way his hair fell in an artfully mussed disarray over his ears.

  Trent Brady was a distraction Elise couldn’t afford, but one she welcomed nonetheless. With him sitting beside her, the gnawing fear seemed to ease. With him nearby, she didn’t feel quite so alone.

  “So, what? You’re going to move in with her and live there the rest of your life?” he asked.

  “No, just until she gets married. There’s got to be some guy out there who will love her enough to take care of her, hopefully better than I have.” She shot him a grin. “What about you? Care to fill the position?”

  Trent let out a single laugh. “Sorry. She’s a sweet kid, but she’s not my type.”

  Elise bit her tongue to keep from asking him what his type was. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t need to know. She was only going to be here long enough to find Ashley, then get back to work.

  Time for a change of subject. “So, what should I do next? I’ve never done anything like this before. I have plenty of experience investigating stories, but I’m not sure if I have the skills to investigate Ashley’s disappearance.”

  “You need to let the police handle it.”

  Easier said than done. “It’s not enough. I can’t sit around and wait for her to show up, wait for someone else to find her. What if they can’t? What if it’s too late by then?”

  “It won’t be,” he said with such confident authority she couldn’t help but believe him. “She’ll turn up safe and sound and you’ll give her hell for scaring you like that.”

  She gave him a long look, searching his face for a hint of the lie he’d just told. She saw none. “You said you were a cop. You know better than anyone that things don’t always work out like that.”

  “No one loves her like you do. No one will work as hard for her as you will. Stay on Bob’s back and he’ll do the rest.”

  “Is that what you’d do if it was your sister? Sit back and let someone else do the work alone?”

  “No.”

  “What would you do?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a long sigh. “Are you asking what you should do or what I would do?”

  “I’m asking you to give me the truth. What do I do to find Ashley?”

  He was quiet for so long Elise didn’t think he was going to answer her question. He stared at her as the sun rose higher, heating the car. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”

  “No. I’m not.”

  He let out a weary sigh. “If Bob asks, you didn’t hear this from me.”

  “I don’t even remember your name.”

  He nodded, satisfied. “Call the airport police and ask if her car is in one of the lots, just to be sure she didn’t hop a flight out of town. Go through her bank and credit card records. See if she’s made any recent charges that might tell you where she is. If there are none, try to recreate what she was doing during the time leading up to her disappearance. Look for changes in her spending habits. See if her cell phone company will give you information about which cell tower her calls went through. That will help map out her movement, too.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Nothing you should do alone.”

  “Fine. I won’t.”

  “You’re lying.”

  She hated it that he could see through her so easily. “Just tell me, damn it.”

  Trent shook his head. His shaggy hair slid over his brow, nearly hiding his eyes. “Nope. But I will show you one more place to check for Ashley’s car before you take me home. I don’t want to be late for work. My little brother’s the boss and he’ll give me hell.”

  “Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because you’d get yourself into trouble. Do the things I mentioned.”

  “And if they don’t pan out?”

  A slow, satisfied smile curved his mouth. “Then you’re just going to have to let me help you.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Trent was late for work. His brother’s truck was already at the job site, bristling with PVC pipes.

  He pulled up behind Sam’s Ford, and braced himself for a scolding as he crossed the client’s dead lawn.

  “You’re late,” said Sam over his bare, sweaty shoulder. He dug the shovel into the hard ground, biting into the orange line they’d painted on the grass yesterday.

  “Sorry.”

  “No explanation? No stories of sexy women tying you to the bed against your will?”

  Trent grabbed a shovel, picked a spot and started working. “Nope.”

  “You’re not going to kiss and tell, huh? Oh, wait. I forgot. You don’t even kiss these days.”

  Trent shoved his boot against the shovel and dug in deep. �
��Leave it alone, Sam.”

  “You show up late, you take your punishment. Besides, Mom is worried about you.”

  Trent felt his shoulders creep up toward his ears as the muscles in his neck clenched. “Since when is that new? She’s been worrying about us since we were born.”

  “Can you blame her? You never visit. You never call. You work and go home. What the hell kind of life is that?”

  “The one I picked.”

  “Then you’re as stupid as you are ugly.”

  “Can we just work and stop yammering like old women?”

  Sam chuckled that same wicked chuckle he’d had since they were kids—the one that told Trent he was in for a world of hurt. “Mom and Dad are having a cookout this weekend. You’ve been ordered to attend.”

  “I’m busy,” said Trent.

  “That’s not going to fly this time. Besides, Mom’s invited some girl from church she wants you to meet. Dad says she’s busty.”

  The idea of his dad looking at any woman’s breasts was unsettling enough without the commentary. “Not interested.”

  “Fine. I was going to call dibs, anyway.”

  “She’s a woman, not a slice of pizza,” said Trent.

  Sam gave him a whatever shrug. “So, are you going to tell me why you were late, or should I invite Mom to bring us lunch?”

  That was a threat worth paying attention to. Sam was the Golden Boy. He’d taken over the family lawn-care business so Dad could retire. He graduated from college. With honors. He was actively searching for Mrs. Right to provide their parents with grandchildren. Sam wouldn’t think twice about having Mom out to watch them work, bring them lunch, stay and chat for a while. He’d bask in the attention.

  Of course, Sam wouldn’t be stuck avoiding intrusive questions about his love life and whether or not he should “talk” to someone about what happened in Chicago. Nor would he be getting all those wonderful bits of helpful advice about how to find and keep a good woman so his life would be worth living.

  If he never had to hear his mother ask him how his sex life was again, it would be too soon.

  “You wouldn’t do that to me,” said Trent.