Tell Me

by Lisa Jackson

Cradling her cup, she took a long sip and felt the coffee warm her from the inside out. “I know.”

  They drove in silence for a few minutes. Then Reed said, “I took the camera you found on the fence into the lab.”

  “And?” she prompted, not liking the tone of his voice.

  “And you were right. Looks like someone’s been spying on your apartment.” He explained about the second lens in the tree and how they were trying to find out who had purchased it. He’d spent the day on the case. After interviewing Roland Camp and his most recent girlfriend, he and Morrisette had returned to the station. He’d been on his way to her house with a couple of electronic specialists from the department when he’d gotten her panicked call about the snake.

  “That is so sick.” Nikki’s blood ran cold all over again at the thought of someone watching her in her private life. She saw herself doing the most mundane of chores, sitting cross-legged on her bed watching television, working at her desk, playing with her animals, and cooking. What about when she used the bathroom, took a shower, or was trying on sexy lingerie in front of the mirror? And all her phone calls, or just her stupid mutterings to her animals. Could he hear her, listen in? The skin on the back of her arms actually pimpled at the thought. She was beginning to feel completely and utterly violated. “What pervert is doing this?” she wondered aloud.

  And if they had been taped, how long before images might be leaked to the Internet? Lost in thought, she chewed the rim of her coffee cup. She pictured herself singing off-key in the shower, flashing her breasts as she warbled into a bar of soap, and mentally groaned. “This could be bad,” she whispered, her stomach clenching.

  “Trust me,” he said, sliding her a quietly determined glance, “we’re going to find this freak and shut him down.”

  “Do that.”

  Slowing, Reed guided his car through the city streets, and as they passed Forsyth Park, she looked at the tiered fountain, now lit strategically, sprays of water illuminated in the night. The oak trees stood guard, Spanish moss dancing ghostlike in the breeze.

  No one was loitering in the park right now, but she couldn’t help but think of the man she’d seen observing her on her run, the dark figure. Not necessarily a man, Nikki. You didn’t get a good enough look at the figure, did you? You just took off running.

  “You know,” she admitted now, “I’ve had this strange feeling that I’m being followed.”

  “What? When?” He cranked the Caddy’s wheel as he turned into the alley that ran past the side of her house.

  “That’s just the thing. It happened before I even knew Niall was going to change his testimony.” As he parked the car, she explained about the stranger in the park, then mentioned the black BMW that had nearly run her over in the crosswalk.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” He snapped his keys from the ignition.

  “Because I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “You were afraid that I wouldn’t let you in on the O’Henry case,” he accused. “That I might think it’s too dangerous and should be just the department’s investigation, without any help from my fiancée the reporter.”

  “Well, yes . . . I did consider all that.”

  “Nik.” His eyes were dark with worry. “This is just a case to me and a story to you. It’s not worth putting your life in any danger!”

  “I told you, it started before I was assigned to report on Blondell O’Henry’s release, before I sent in an idea for a new book. It could have nothing to do with the case.”

  “Fine. Great. But you have to admit that you going to the cabin where Amity was killed and finding a snake in your damned car is the direct result of your work on the O’Henry case.”

  “Apparently I’m getting close, Reed. Worrying someone. Making them nervous. Flushing them out!”

  “I think we should reconsider this whole deal we had. It’s too dangerous. I don’t know what I was thinking!” He slammed his door shut, then started toward the house.

  “Reed—” She scrambled out of her side of the car. “Damn it all to hell!” Hurrying around the Caddy’s wide trunk, she caught up with him at the gate. “You can’t renege now.”

  “I can damn well do anything I want.”

  “Calm down. I’m okay.”

  “No. You’re not. And it’s because of this case, so all bets are off.”

  He was through the gate and cutting through the garden, letting himself in the back of the building’s large foyer. Nikki took off after him again, her boots tracking mud over the polished hardwood and up the main staircase, but she didn’t care. He couldn’t stop her now. “I never thought you’d back out of a deal,” she accused, chasing after him, leaving more prints left on the carpet that covered all three flights of the old wooden stairs.

  “Then you thought wrong.”

  “Reed. Wait. Just listen!” But he was already at the third floor, where the door was open and a lanky man in a brown jumpsuit and owlish glasses was crouched just inside. A few cobwebs clung to his shoulders and hair as he snapped a toolbox closed and greeted Reed familiarly.

  “Hey, just finishing up.”

  “Nikki, this is Monty Hemler. Monty, this is my fiancée, Nicole Gillette.” As they nodded to each other, Reed continued, “Hemler here is the department’s technical expert. He and his assistant have been searching the place.”

  “Barry’s already gone,” Hemler said, explaining why he was alone. He pulled off a pair of tight-fitting gloves, then stuffed them into his pocket.

  From the bathroom, there was a series of frantic barks. “Oh, had to lock up your pets,” Helmer said. “Sorry.”

  “I think they’ll survive,” Reed said.

  Hemler nodded. “Anyway, I was just on my way out. The place is clean. No unwanted bugs of any kind. No video, no audio. I checked the attic and even the basement, but I didn’t bother with the first- or second-floor units, just the hallways, as you said they were occupied.”

  Nikki felt a wave of relief. “Good. Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He flashed a smile, then picked up his toolbox and said to Reed, “As for the equipment you located outside, it was pretty low-end. I’m thinking amateur. Could be just some nerdy kid like I was who’s into electronics, only this one gets his jollies spying on people.”

  “That innocent?” Reed was skeptical.

  Hemler lifted a dusty shoulder. “Maybe.”

  “Thanks,” Reed said, and shook Hemler’s hand.

  “Anytime.”

  He let himself out, and they heard his footsteps retreating down the stairs.

  “See,” she said, some of her anxiety eased. “No reason to worry.”

  He scanned the inside of the apartment. “Lots of reasons to worry,” he disagreed. “And I’m thinking that with you as my wife, it’s only going to get worse.”

  “There’s still time to back out on the wedding, y’know,” she said, hitching up her chin. “But you can’t weasel out of the deal we had about the case. That’s set in stone.” She stalked to the bathroom and let a frantic Mikado out. Jennings, true to his lazy personality, strolled into the living area and, disdainful of the jumping dog, wound himself through her legs. She petted both animals, and Mikado calmed a bit, while Jennings, as if bored with the whole scene, wandered off toward the dining area. As she stroked the dog, something nagged at her, something she couldn’t quite call up. What the hell was it? Something she’d heard when she was dealing with the dog? That was it. When she was picking up Mikado from Ruby’s Ruff and Ready. Something about Ruby’s brothers being hot for Blondell . . .

  “You’re okay with me backing out of the wedding but not the investigation?” His tone was light, but his jaw was steel. Her answer was important.

  “I’m not okay with you backing out of either one,” Nikki said tautly as he tossed his wallet and keys onto the side table.

  “We’re getting married, Nik. That’s a fact. But I almost lost you once to the Grave Robber, and that can’t happen again, no
t on my watch.” Looking at her, his expression softened. “Look, honey,” he said, closing the gap between them and grabbing her shoulders. “I’m mad at myself for agreeing to our partnership in the investigation. It’s not professional, and it’s not smart, and I let my need to please you cloud my judgment.”

  Her heart cracked a little. “Okay, I get it. But let’s not let one snake throw this whole thing out the window.”

  “It’s not the snake that worries me—or the two snakes, if there really was another one in the cabin. It’s the guy who put the damned thing into your car that’s the problem. You know, there’s a chance he’s the same nutcase who took one to the cabin years before, and look what happened then.”

  “What you’re saying suggests that Blondell might not have been lying,” she pointed out.

  “Suggests, yeah. Not proves.”

  “But who?” she asked.

  “Someone nearby who can handle reptiles. That’s got to narrow the field.”

  “You’d think.” She slid out of his coat and handed it to him. “Thanks. For the coat and everything.” She placed a kiss on his cheek and added, “I’m in dire need of a hot shower.”

  “Is that an offer?”

  Leaning over, she unzipped her boots and kicked them off. “Take it any way you want it.”

  “As long as you understand that our deal is off.”

  She started working on the zipper of the lightweight jacket she’d been wearing under Reed’s larger coat. “I’m not talking about this now. I figure we can do it later.” She let her sweater fall open.

  “You think if you get me interested in you that I’ll forget that I’m changing the rules. Or that you can convince me to agree to let you work on the case.”

  “I’m just going to take a shower, Reed,” she said. “You can join me if you want. If you don’t, fine.”

  “I think I’d better deal with the dog.”

  “Your choice.” She was already peeling off her clothes.

  Once inside the bathroom, she turned on the taps of the shower, which was rigged over an old, claw-foot tub. The pipes groaned as the water turned hot, steaming the room as she dropped her clothes into a pile on the floor. She’d barely stepped inside the curtained enclosure when the door opened and Reed, stark naked, appeared.

  “What about the dog?”

  “He’s quick.”

  “I guess. So did you have a change of heart?” she asked lightly, reaching for the soap.

  “More like I saw an opportunity to spend some quality time with my fiancée.”

  “Quality time,” she mocked. “Is that what this is?”

  “What it isn’t, is you seducing me to get what you want.”

  She watched as he deftly plucked the soap from her hand and stood between her and the spray, turning her to face the wall as he ran the slippery bar over her wet skin, causing the goose bumps rising on her flesh to disappear in the heat. Warm water sprayed over them, and she nestled against him, feeling the flat of his hand against her abdomen, drawing her near while her buttocks were pressed into his groin, his thick shaft already at attention and rubbing against her.

  She closed her eyes and let the eroticism of the moment overtake her. Hot water, warm flesh, sudsy lather running down her legs and body. He kissed the back of her neck, where it joined with her shoulders, his lips tender, his tongue slick. His hands moved, one caressing a breast and toying with a wet nipple, the other, reaching lower, down her abdomen, to the juncture of her legs, where his fingers probed and her need began to pulse. She moaned over the rush of water, and she felt him lift her up as he thrust hard against her, driving deep, causing her to gasp.

  Blood pounded in her ears, and her heart couldn’t keep up with her shallow, rapid breathing. Water splashed, she gulped in air and he moved inside her. Harder. Faster. Hotter.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered as he held her fast to him. “Oh, God, Oh, God . . . oh . . .”

  In a burst of heat she convulsed, gasping, panting, hearing his primal groan as his muscles tightened, then released, and his breath came out in a rush against her ear.

  She went limp against him, but still he held her close, breathing hard, his slick body pressed intimately to hers.

  “What got into you?” he asked on a gasp, and she laughed, realizing they were still joined.

  “I think the answer to that is pretty obvious.”

  Chuckling, the water still flowing, he kissed the top of her wet head and finally took a step backward, their bodies disconnecting. “Wanna hear the good news?”

  “Mmm. Tell me.”

  “At least we know we aren’t making a sex tape.”

  “What a relief.” She turned and wound her arms around his neck, warm water spraying her face. “You know, Reed, while you were washing me? I think you missed a spot,” she whispered and kissed him hard on the lips.

  “Did I?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “And I think you’re trying to mess with me.”

  “See, you are good at your job,” she said and dragged him downward into the tub, where they were crunched in a tangle of arms and legs. “From now on, I’ll just call you Ace.”

  His laugh was a deep rumble. “And you’ll be Bambi.”

  “Bambi? Why?”

  “Because you, darlin’, are trying to bamboozle me, and it’s just not going to work.”

  “We’ll just see about that,” she said, because she knew, deep in her heart, she wasn’t going to quit her investigation. She had a job to do and she’d do it, with or without his help. For now, though, she’d close her mind to everything that had to do with the Blondell O’Henry case and pay attention to the man she was going to marry.

  CHAPTER 25

  Any way you cut it, the drive to Charleston was going to take more than two hours, probably closer to three. One way. And it would have to be in a rental car, as Nikki’s Honda was still being repaired. Well, so be it. As soon as Reed left for work in the morning, she found her way to the nearest agency, rented a subcompact, and was on her way. She’d mentioned to Reed that she planned to drive north to locate Lawrence Thompson, and he hadn’t been happy about it. He’d sternly told her to keep in contact. Their argument of the night before had diffused a little, and he was being more rational, accepting the fact that her job did come with a few built-in dangers, though he didn’t like it and made that point very clear as he’d dressed for work.

  “Just be smart,” he’d cautioned as he found his keys near the front door. “And be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “And for God’s sake, keep me posted.”

  “Don’t worry,” she’d said, bussing his freshly shaven cheek, the scent of aftershave tickling her nostrils. “I will. Promise.”

  With that, he’d rolled his eyes and left, his own job calling. “I’m holding you to it,” he’d yelled over his shoulder.

  As soon as the back door slammed shut, she’d gotten to work. Her calls to Jada Hill had gone unreturned, and she wasn’t having much luck with anyone else, including Steve Manning, the stoner whom Amity had dated in high school and who was now a security guard for On the River, a hotel not six blocks from where she worked. She’d learned when he would be on duty and planned to visit him when she returned from Charleston. Brad Holbrook, after college, had taken a job in Japan with an import-export business; as far as she could tell, he was married, with three stair-step children, and though he’d been in and out of the country, his work kept him mainly on the West Coast. According to his widowed mother, he “never came and visited, not like Peter,” who obviously, at least for the time being, was the “good” and favored son.

  She would still love to talk to Brad, whose dreams of a career in major league baseball had fizzled out at Georgia Tech. Since Brad had been in school in Atlanta when Amity had been killed, he might have some insight into what had happened to her. She figured it was a shot in the dark, but worth the try.

  The one person she did connect with was Ruby, Mikado’
s dog groomer. “Does that little one need an appointment already?” Ruby had asked.

  “Not yet,” Nikki said. “I was actually calling about something you said about your brothers and Blondell O’Henry.”

  “Oh. All I can say is that they thought she was the hottest thing to ever hit Savannah. Woowee!”

  “Did they ever say who was dating her? I mean, before Calvin?”

  “That was a long time ago. I don’t think it was just one boy, and I didn’t pay much attention anyway, y’know. Oh, but there was something. The one of them that had been with her in high school? That would be Flint Beauregard.”

  “Beauregard. Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. The boys were all goin’ on about it. And then he ends up bein’ the detective on the case.”

  A cold feeling stole through Nikki. “Anyone else besides Beauregard?”

  “Well, they were all braggin’ about her. That’s the way they were. Flint, though . . . they all knew about him.”

  “Do you have their numbers? Your brothers?”

  “Oh, no. The boys are gone now. Passed on a few years back, within six months of each other. Frank had a heart attack while he was workin’, and cancer got Jeb.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nikki said.

  “That’s just the way of it sometimes.”

  A few minutes later, Nikki had hung up, lost in thought. She felt hollow inside. It couldn’t be, could it? That Flint Beauregard had fathered Amity O’Henry? Had he known? Why, then, would he pursue Blondell so vigorously, and why hadn’t Blondell cried foul, whatever the case?

  No, she was missing something. An important piece. She thought of the girl she’d befriended. Amity had taken after her mother in so many ways, physically as well as in her attitude toward men. But Flint Beauregard? Maybe . . .

  Amity, the girl everyone knew of, but no one really knew. “What happened to you?” Nikki wondered aloud.

  “Tell me more about the lake,” Amity had pleaded once when they’d been hanging out that summer, just listening to CDs in Nikki’s room on one of the rare times Amity had come over. “Do you swim in it?” She was sitting on the bench at the vanity Nikki’s mother had insisted she needed, while Nikki was stretched out on her bed. The sun had been streaming through the windows, some Michael Jackson song playing, Amity picking up bottles of nail polish and reading the labels as they talked.