“She mentioned it was lucky the other side of the duplex she and her sister own was empty when you came to town.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing the wet strands of her hair. “I’m not trying to move in on you or anything. I know you’ve had a rough time of it.”
She blinked against the tears pricking her eyes. Was he referring to the brawl she’d apparently had with Johnny Diamond in the hotel room, or her manufactured past with the abusive ex? Cole’s soothing tone almost made her want to confess everything to him. Almost.
She squared her shoulders. “Linda gossips too much. I dumped a jerk—nothing I can’t handle.”
“Thatta girl.” A wide grin claimed his face. “Don’t let the bastards bring you down.”
“Here’s your change, Cole.” Bud swept up Cole’s plate. “Your food will be up in a minute, Caroline.”
Cole pocketed his cash. “So, how about it? I’m parked right out front.”
She wanted to tell him to take a hike, keep his questions to himself and mind his own business. But that would make him even more suspicious, and maybe Linda had convinced him that she was really her cousin in need of a fresh start.
“I’d love a ride, thanks. If it’s not too inconvenient.”
“No problem at all.”
Bud returned with a bag hanging from his fingers, and then twisted his head around to look at the TV mounted above the bar. He called to the other bartender. “Denny, turn up the volume. It’s a story on the Johnny Diamond murder.”
A chill raced down Caroline’s spine, but she kept motionless.
Cole tipped his head back to take in the TV monitor. “I heard about that—found the guy with drugs and a car with a dead body in the trunk.”
Her dinner still dangled from Bud’s fingertips and she wanted to scream at him.
Cole asked, “Was he a local boy?”
“Diamond? No, but he ran with a local motorcycle gang, the Lords of Chaos.”
The sounds around Caroline receded and she felt like she was spinning through a vacuum. Larry. LC, the tattoo on Johnny Diamond’s neck, stood for Lords of Chaos. Timberline had been Johnny Diamond’s destination, not hers. Or maybe it had been hers, too. Nobody seemed to recognize her here, nobody except Cole Pierson, and for him her identity was all speculation.
“Do you think he was on his way here when he was killed?”
Bud hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. I hope not. Timberline has had enough trouble with the Lords.”
The story ended. Denny turned down the sound and Caroline could breathe again—almost. “My food?”
“Sorry.” He placed the bag on the counter. “Napkins and utensils inside.”
She handed him a twenty. “Thanks, keep it.”
Cole rose from his stool before she did. “Ready?”
“Uh-huh.” She looked at Bud’s curious expression and said, “Cole’s giving me a ride home in the rain.”
“Good idea. Have a good night.”
Caroline turned, hugging the bag to her chest. So now if Cole murdered her and dumped her body in the woods, someone would connect him to her disappearance—and she was only half kidding.
She preceded Cole through the restaurant in thoughtful silence. Was the revelation of Johnny Diamond’s connection to a motorcycle gang news to Cole or was he a member, too? She could always check his body for tattoos—and she was only half kidding about that, too.
As he opened the door for her, she slid a glance at his hand and the wrist revealed when his sleeve rode up. No tattoos there and she hadn’t noticed any on his neck.
He opened his umbrella. “Here, get under. I’m just one door down.”
A small sedan flashed its lights and beeped once, and Cole held the umbrella over her head while she climbed into the car. When he slammed the door, she did a quick survey of the console and the backseat.
No weapons and no dead bodies. Things were looking up.
He opened the driver’s side door and collapsed his umbrella. As he slid onto the seat, he tossed the soggy umbrella in the rear. “Whew. This is a deluge. Even with your umbrella, you would’ve been soaked to the bone.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
He started the car and then turned to look at her, studying her profile. “Glad to do it.”
“Straight ahead.” She pinned her hands between her bouncing knees.
“All the way at the end where the businesses stop?”
“Yes.”
The car crawled through the flooded streets, and Cole hunched forward. “You’d think a town in Washington would do a better job of drainage.”
“Timberline’s old.”
“The influx of money from Evergreen Software should start going toward the town’s infrastructure.”
“Linda says it’s helped a lot.” Caroline tapped on the window. “Up ahead on the right where the two yellow lights are.”
Cole pulled into the driveway she didn’t use. “I’ll get the door for you.”
He pulled his umbrella from the backseat and unfurled it before getting out of the car. Two seconds later, he was opening her door, holding the umbrella over her head at great expense to his own well-being.
As she groped for the keys in her purse, he stayed right by her side, keeping her dry. When she made it to the covered porch, she pulled him up next to her. “You’re drenched.”
“You’re not.”
She released his sleeve. Was this his strategy? Cozy up to her so she’d spill her guts?
“Well, now it’s all yours.” She inserted her key into the lock and turned. “Thanks again and good luck with your book.”
“Good luck to you, too, Caroline Johnson.”
His voice trailed to a whisper as he melted back into the rain.
She blew out a breath and pushed open her door. That sounded like a goodbye. Linda must’ve been convincing.
She stepped into the small living room and the hair on the back of her neck quivered. Her gaze darted from the bookshelves to the pillows on the couch to the magazines stacked on the coffee table.
Someone had been in her house. A primal fear seized her and she turned and fled back into the driving rain.
Chapter Five
Cole dumped his umbrella in the backseat and slicked back his wet hair. He’d have to look elsewhere for Johnny Diamond’s killer. One of the Realtors in town had mentioned a new single female renter at one of the cabins.
He took one last look at Caroline’s door. He was relieved she wasn’t connected to Diamond, but disappointed that he didn’t need to spend any more time with her.
She sure as hell didn’t want to spend any more time with him. After her experience with her husband, she must hate all men. He could understand that, but hell, he didn’t hate all women after his own experience. But then his wife had just cheated on him, not given him a shiner.
A yellow oblong appeared on the porch and it took him a minute to realize that Caroline had opened the door. Had she changed her mind about him and wanted to invite him in for a drink? A guy could hope for the best.
As he squinted into the darkness, she flew off the porch and disappeared. Had she fallen?
He opened his door and peered through the sheets of rain at Caroline scrambling in the mud on the side of the short walkway to the porch, which she’d obviously missed.
“Caroline?” He slammed the car door and jogged toward her, leaving the umbrella behind in the car.
She looked up at him, her face pale, her eyes huge.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” He crouched beside her and hooked his hands beneath her arms, pulling her up.
She stuttered through chattering teeth. “Someone...s-someone was in my h-house.”
A shot of adrenaline coursed through Cole’s body. “Some
one’s there now?”
“I—I don’t know.”
He pulled her onto the porch. “Stay here.”
His hand hovering over the gun in his jacket pocket, he crept into the house. He blinked. It didn’t look like there was a thing out of place. He’d expected chaos.
He moved silently across the wood floor, leaving a trail of puddles in his wake. He poked his head into the kitchen in case someone was crouched behind the counter that separated kitchen from living room. He couldn’t detect any disturbance in this room, either.
He edged down the hallway and checked both bedrooms, including beneath the beds and in the closets, and even swept aside the shower curtain.
What had given Caroline the idea that someone had broken into her place? All the doors and windows were intact.
He zipped his pocket over his gun and returned to the porch, where Caroline was hugging the wall. “It’s okay. There’s nobody here.”
He put his arm across her shoulders and felt the vibrations from her trembling body. He nudged her into the house and shut the door behind them.
“Can I get you something? Hot tea? A shot of whiskey? Both? You’re wet and muddy.”
She stared at him with wide eyes, her arms folded across her stomach. Her voice came out as a harsh whisper. “Was it you?”
Her soft words punched him in the gut. “Me? What?”
“Did you break in here to search through my things? To frighten me? To...to—” she waved her arm up and down his body “—to do this?”
“I don’t understand.” He stepped back. “Do you think I’m working for your husband or something?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not. I’m...not.” He couldn’t tell her about his mission here. He was doing this investigation on his own dime, anyway. He just wanted to reassure her. He wanted to snap his fingers and dissolve the fear that rimmed her eyes.
“I swear I don’t know your husband, but from what Linda told me he sounds like a jerk. Look...” Cole ran a hand through his damp hair. “My stepdad used to knock my mom around. I’d never help out anyone who hurt women or children. Never.”
Caroline’s mouth softened and her lashes fluttered. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be. Just know I’m not on your husband’s side. I don’t even know your husband and wouldn’t want to, except to plant one on his face.”
She pulled her shoulders back. “Okay. It wasn’t you.”
“Of course not.” Cranking his head from one side to the other, Cole asked, “How’d you know someone had been in here? Looks neat to me.”
“I’m very particular. I can tell.”
“Maybe Linda came over. She lives in the duplex next door, right? Maybe she had to get something or was going to leave something for you?”
Caroline shook her head and the droplets from her hair rained down on the floor. “Linda wouldn’t do that. Someone was in here.”
“And you think it was your ex or someone he sent?”
Her gaze dropped to her fingers, twisting in front of her. “Maybe. I suppose it could be a thief.”
“A very neat thief.”
“A thief who didn’t want to be discovered.”
“But one totally unaware of your super detection abilities.” Cole smiled like an idiot, wanting to touch her, but afraid he’d send her over the edge. “You need to get out of those wet clothes. And the mud. You should see the mud.”
“I dropped my dinner just inside the front door. I’m going to take a hot shower and curl up with my sweet potato fries.”
“Do you want to call the police?”
“No!” A red tide washed over her cheeks beneath the mud smears. “I have no proof anyone was here. The sheriff’s department would put me down as a lunatic.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. Linda should be home soon. I’ll ask her if she was here. Maybe you’re right.”
“I can stay while you shower. I mean, wait in here.”
“Really, I’m okay. I’ve been on edge.” She breezed past him and picked up the bag of food on the floor, and then opened the front door. “Thanks for coming back and helping me. I feel like a fool.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you flailing around in the mud.”
She rolled her eyes. “That bad, huh?”
“You were scared and had a fall.” He put his finger to his lips. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“Good night, Cole.”
“Good night, Caroline.” He left the house and waited on the porch as he listened for the click of the dead bolt.
Jamming his hands in his pockets, he put his head down and walked briskly to his car, keeping to the paved walkway.
He started the engine and cranked on the heat and defroster full blast. Blowing on his hands and rubbing them together, he eyed Caroline’s duplex over the steering wheel.
Had he miscalculated? Would her ex really travel across the country to stalk her, or more unbelievably, send someone else to do it? How had she been so sure someone had broken in? Was it paranoia or was she really expecting trouble? And from what quarter? An abusive ex-husband, or from someone equally as dangerous? A drug trafficker looking for his money?
Cole felt a stab of guilt that he’d circled back to his original suspicions. He’d put those to rest after talking to Linda Gunderson, and what earthly reason would Linda have to lie for a complete stranger? To fabricate a whole life for this stranger?
Money? Timberline Treasures hardly looked like a bustling, profitable enterprise.
He threw the rental into gear and backed out of the driveway. Maybe Caroline had paid Linda to claim her as a cousin. Linda told a mighty convincing story.
As he watched Caroline’s porchlight fade into the darkness in his rearview mirror, he set his jaw. There were too many puzzle pieces that didn’t fit. Caroline Johnson hadn’t quite convinced him that she wasn’t the woman with Johnny Diamond.
Which meant...he wasn’t done with her yet.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Caroline hunched over her coffee cup, trying to wake up. She’d waylaid Linda last night on her way in from her bridge party, but Linda insisted she hadn’t let herself into Caroline’s duplex.
Could she have imagined it? She shifted her gaze to the magazines stacked on the coffee table and the throw pillows set at a precise angle on the sofa. Ever alert, Caroline had set up the room so that any disruption could be detected—and she’d detected several. The edges of the magazines hadn’t been lined up. One of the pillows had been positioned so that the tree on the front was upright, when she’d left it on its side.
If someone had broken in, at least he hadn’t discovered her stash of money hidden under a loose floorboard in the bedroom closet. Was that what he’d been after?
She sipped her coffee and smacked the counter. How could she have been so stupid to display her fear in front of Cole?
At first he’d been solicitous, worried, had even revealed a piece of his own history, but she could see the doubt creeping back in his eyes the more she blabbed on about the break-in.
How ridiculous of her to admit that she was primed to recognize an intruder by the slightest hair out of place. And while she was sure there were a few exes who stalked their spouses after they’d moved from one coast to the other, how likely would it be for an abusive lover to sneak into his ex’s house for a careful search? He’d be more apt to lie in wait and attack her, not rearrange her magazines.
Cole had to believe she was either crazy or lying, and she had her money on lying. He’d already suspected her of being the woman in the motel room with Diamond, and she’d just handed him further reason to investigate that suspicion.
And who the hell was Cole Pierson,
anyway? She’d had no time to do an internet search on him, but she doubted she’d find any more on him than he’d found on her.
Her phone buzzed and she recognized the number as Dr. Shipman’s. This could be the solution to all her problems—or just the beginning.
“Hello?”
“Is this Caroline Johnson?”
“It is.”
“Hi, Caroline, this is Dr. Shipman returning your call.”
“Yes, hello. Thank you.” She moved to the sofa and sank against the cushions. “I was wondering if you could take on another patient. I’m interested in starting this week if you can fit me in.”
“I am accepting new patients. You’re in Timberline?”
“Yes.”
“I had a cancellation this afternoon if you can manage to get here by two o’clock?”
She was working only until noon today and Linda had already told her she could borrow her car for appointments. “I can be there by two.”
“Do you have medical-insurance coverage?”
“I—I’m paying cash. How much do you charge?”
“Seventy-five an hour, but we can work out a plan if that’s too steep.”
“I can manage that, thanks. I’ll see you at two o’clock.”
She collapsed against the tree cushion that had caused her such panic last night. Maybe Dr. Shipman could do hypnosis or something. She had to get her life back—whatever that life was.
Then she could stand tall before Cole and tell him the truth—or run and hide forever.
When she heard Linda’s familiar tap at the door, Caroline pushed up from the sofa and stuffed her stocking feet in her ankle boots. She drew back the curtain and waved at Linda on the porch. Then she retrieved her purse from the kitchen counter and answered the door.
“Looks like we have a reprieve from the rain today.” Caroline held out her hand, palm up, and caught a drop of water from the rain gutter.
“Would be nice to have a day to dry out.” Linda tipped her head to the side. “Are you okay this morning?”
“I’m fine. I think I overreacted. Larry has no way of knowing I’m in Timberline or even Washington.” She’d given her abusive ex-husband the first name she could think of.
In the Arms of the Enemy Page 5