In the Arms of the Enemy

by Carol Ericson

  “I’ve been thinking about leaving, anyway. I can’t stay here. It was always a temporary solution.”

  “And Cole?”

  Heat surged to her cheeks. “What about Cole? I told you I wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship.”

  “I know. It’s such a shame you two couldn’t have met at another time, in another place. He’s a catch.”

  Another time and place? She had no other time and no other place. She had no past, no family, no life. The truth of it all punched her in the gut, and she could dissolve into a flood of tears right now if she weren’t driving Linda home.

  She’d never allowed herself a good cry. Maybe she just wasn’t the crying type, but then what type was she? She didn’t have a clue.

  What had happened to all the hope and optimism she’d felt on her way to the hospital? If someone had really tried to poison her and mistakenly poisoned Linda instead, she was in big trouble. Maybe the man in the driveway was expecting an easier time of it with a drugged-out victim. She had to get away.

  When they got to the duplex, Caroline helped Linda wash up and change clothes. Then she led her to her favorite chair. “Tea, water, glass of wine?”

  Linda chuckled. “If you’re here when Louise gets back, and I hope you are, please don’t tell her about this. She can be insufferably self-righteous.”

  “Not a word from me.” Caroline ran her fingertip over the seam of her lips. “How about that tea?”

  “I’d love some if you’ll join me. What did you do this morning before you picked me up?”

  Caroline called over her shoulder as she filled the tea kettle with water. “I cleaned up my place and went to the library.”

  The lie came easily to her lips, but she didn’t want to worry Linda about her obsession with the man from Connecticut.

  “You didn’t see Cole?”

  “Not this morning.” She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. Not that she hadn’t been thinking about him and that kiss all day.

  “Well, he’s here now.”

  She dropped the kettle onto the burner. “Here?”

  “He just drove up.”

  He tapped on Linda’s door seconds later, and Caroline wiped her hands on a dish towel and answered the door.

  “Linda home safely?”

  “She is.” She swung open the door. “See for yourself.”

  “Feeling better, beautiful?” Cole swept a bouquet of flowers from behind his back, and Linda clapped her hands together.

  “They’re lovely.”

  Cole knelt before her and held out the flowers for her to smell. “You look much better. How’d they treat you?”

  Caroline hovered over Cole’s back, holding her breath. If Linda told him about her suspicions, he might start looking at her again. She couldn’t afford to have Cole prying into her past.

  “Just fine. I feel better.” Linda touched the petal of a pink rose. “Caroline, could you please put these in a vase for me? There’s one in the cabinet beside the dining table.”

  “Of course.” She held out a hand that was not altogether steady to take the flowers from Cole. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

  Shaking his head, he perched on the arm of Linda’s chair.

  As she arranged the flowers in a vase, Linda and Cole exchanged small talk, but she didn’t once hear the word poison.

  Then Linda raised her voice. “Did Caroline tell you she’s thinking of leaving town?”

  The teakettle’s piercing whistle interrupted Cole’s response. Why did Linda have to keep up her matchmaking efforts? Caroline poured the boiling water over tea bags in the cups and carried them into the other room.

  “I mentioned it to Cole last night,” she said.

  “I’m not sure small-town life suits Caroline.” Cole raised his eyebrows at her, and she felt like sinking into bed and pulling the covers over her head.

  There were so many lies swirling among the three of them right now, she couldn’t keep them straight.

  She sat down, cupping her warm mug. “Visiting family in Timberline has been a welcome respite, but I really need to start thinking about my future.”

  “And what does the future look like for Caroline... Johnson?”

  Swallowing, she rolled her lips inward. Did he doubt her name now?

  “One thing it includes is continued therapy, which I think is a wonderful plan.” Linda blew on the surface of her tea and took a sip.

  “I think it’s a good plan, too. I saw a therapist a few times after my divorce, and it helped me,” Cole admitted.

  “Caroline has one more appointment with Dr. Shipman tomorrow before she leaves.” Linda’s gaze slid from Caroline’s face to his. “In fact, I was wondering if you could take her to the appointment.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes at Cole and shook her head. “I thought I was going to borrow your car, Linda. You’ll be having dinner with your girlfriends, right?”

  “Yes, but your appointment is late and by the time you finish and drive back here, it’ll be dark. I just don’t think it’s a wise idea for you to be on your own right now, Caroline, especially after a therapy appointment.”

  “It’s therapy, not surgery. Besides, Cole probably doesn’t want to drive me. I’ll be fine.”

  “I have no problem driving you, and I happen to agree with Linda. Consider it a date.” He leaned over and kissed Linda’s cheek. “Now I have to get going. I have some research to do this afternoon.”

  “I’ll walk you out to your car,” Caroline said.

  “Thank you for the flowers, Cole.”

  Caroline walked with him to the front door, her hand on his back, her knuckle drilling into his spine.

  When they stepped onto the porch, he broke away. “Ouch. Why are you hustling me out of the house?”

  Grabbing his hand, she dragged him into the driveway. “I thought you were going to say something about the man with the knife. I don’t want Linda to know about that. She’s had enough upset.”

  “Oh, is that why you don’t want to tell her? You haven’t reported it to the cops yet, either, have you?”

  “No, and I’m not going to, which is a good thing for you, Mr. Rogue DEA Agent. What are you even doing here? What are you looking for?”

  “You have your secrets, I have mine. I’m not going to tell you my business, but I will give you a ride tomorrow. You have someone running around town pulling knives on you, you haven’t reported him to the police and you’re going to drive off to Port Angeles by yourself? You’re either brave, a martial arts expert or you know more about the knife attack than you’re saying, which is no surprise. You know a lot more about a lot of things than you’re saying.”

  She tossed her head, shaking her hair out of her face. “I will accept your ride, but I will not be cross-examined. Linda is still hoping for some kind of happily-ever-after for us.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen.” He snorted.

  “You got that right.” Somehow Caroline’s gaze had dropped from his incredible green eyes to his incredible lips, and the sneer she’d planned for her own lips had softened into a pout.

  He moved a step closer to her and she leaned in like a magnet. Cupping her face with one large hand, he possessed her mouth with a kiss so hot the drops of rain that had started falling sizzled on her skin.

  He deepened his kiss and they stood locked together as the heavens opened above them. Without missing a beat, Cole flipped up the hood of his jacket and pulled it over both their heads.

  She pulled away first, only because she’d lost feeling in the hands that had been gripping the sides of his jacket.

  Resting his forehead against hers, nose to nose, he whispered, “No happily-ever-after here.”

  She tipped her head back, letting the rain course down her face, mingling
with her tears. “Not for us.”

  As he reached for her again, she spun around and ran back to Linda’s house. She slammed the front door behind her and leaned against it, panting.

  “What took you so long? What were you doing out in the rain?”

  “Saying goodbye.”

  * * *

  CAROLINE STAYED INDOORS the following day. She spent most of her time at Linda’s, watching TV, making sure Linda was drinking lots of fluids, and trying not to think about Cole. She’d offered to open the store today, but Linda preferred her company here.

  The afternoon rolled around quickly, and she went home to get ready for her appointment. She returned to Linda’s with a coupon for the local pizza place. She waved it in the air. “You ladies are ordering pizza tonight, right? This coupon will get you a discount. It was with an advertisement on my doorknob.”

  “Leave it by the telephone.” Linda sat up from where she’d been reclining on the sofa. “I’m feeling so much better now, and I want you to forget about what I said about being poisoned. I drank too much and got sick. End of story.”

  “That still doesn’t change the fact that I need to be on my way. I need to start making some plans.”

  “You could do that here in Timberline.”

  “I don’t think so.” She sat next to Linda and took her hand. “While this place has felt like home, due mostly to your hospitality, there’s something about it that’s hostile. I feel the undercurrent.”

  “I understand. It’s beautiful country, but the rain and the brooding forest aren’t for everyone.” The older woman squeezed Caroline’s fingers. “Just take care of yourself wherever you land. Do not go back to Larry no matter what he promises, and drop me a line to let me know you’re okay.”

  “You’re wonderful.” She blinked back a few tears. If her family had been anything like Linda Gunderson, she probably wouldn’t be in this mess right now. What had she been running from? What brought her into Johnny Diamond’s sphere?

  She heard tires in the driveway and jumped up. “I’m going to run out there so Cole doesn’t have to go into the rain, because you know he’ll come right up to the door to get me.”

  “That’s because he’s a gentleman. And I know it won’t be Cole you wind up with, but next time it should be someone like him.”

  “It will. I promise.” She blew Linda a kiss before dashing down the driveway as Cole opened the car door.

  She burst in the passenger side and shut the door on the rain. “You don’t need to go out in that stuff.”

  “I think the storm is finally moving through. It might actually clear up by the time we get to Port Angeles.”

  “Are you going to do more research there, or what?”

  “I have a few sources to check, but I’m getting to the end of the line. I didn’t discover what I’d hoped to discover, and I actually want to take a real vacation for a week or so before I get back to work.”

  “Hawaii? Caribbean?”

  “Nothing that exotic. I’m going to visit my sister and her family. They live in San Diego, too, but I’m not always in town.”

  “I’m sure it will be more relaxing than this.”

  “Yeah, I’m not one for relaxing.”

  “Since you’re working on your time off, I guess not.”

  “Do you know where you’re headed?” He held up one finger. “I’m not giving you the third degree.”

  “I think I’m going to get lost in a big city. I don’t think small-town life is for me.”

  “Probably not. Everyone wants to know your business.”

  They switched to less loaded topics on the rest of the drive, and she discovered Cole played bass in an oldies cover band and had gone to college on a swimming scholarship.

  His face lit up as he told her his stories, and she ached to tell him stories of her own, but she had nothing. Just a blank slate.

  Laughing at Cole’s account of a drunk at a bar trying to sing onstage with his band, she turned her head to look out the window. As they passed the Quileute reservation, an electric jolt seemed to pass through her body and she grabbed the edges of her seat.

  “Something wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” She massaged her temples. “It’s like I just had a rush of adrenaline.”

  “Probably stress, that whole fight-or-flight thing. You probably need to release some steam, exercise. When I get that way, I need to hit the pool and do some laps. What do you like to do, run? You look like a runner.”

  “I am—long distances.” Her heart tripped over itself. Where had that come from? It was the truth. She felt it. She was a runner. Maybe that had just come from seeing running clothes—shoes and shorts—in the suitcase from her former life. But it felt right. Just like the desert had felt right.

  She repeated with a firm voice, “Yes, I’m a runner.”

  “I hate running, unless I’m chasing a suspect. Then I can get into it.”

  She liked to run, she preferred the desert and the Quileute reservation had given her a shock. She tapped on the glass of the window. “Did you mention that the man who kidnapped those children all those years ago was from the Quileute tribe?”

  “Rocky Whitecotton? Yeah, although the tribe had pretty much disowned him even before they discovered he was behind the kidnappings. He didn’t actually kidnap those kids himself. He had members of the Lords of Chaos do his dirty work.” Cole shot her a sideways glance. “Why do you ask?”

  “I saw the sign for the reservation back there. It reminded me of that guy.”

  “A real weirdo from what I’ve read.”

  “Do you think he killed those kids?”

  Cole’s jaw tightened and she remembered he liked kids. “Probably. No trace of them has ever been found.”

  She nodded and then started humming to the song on the radio. Why would Rocky Whitecotton be upset with Johnny Diamond for not finding her? What did she have to do with this whole drug trade?

  Caroline felt primed for her session with Dr. Shipman and couldn’t wait to get into that office.

  She and Cole exchanged more small talk until they reached the coast and Port Angeles.

  He pulled up to the curb in front of the office building. “An hour?”

  “That should do it. I’ll be out front at six.”

  “I’ll be here. Have a good session.”

  As she opened the car door, a gust of wind snatched it from her grasp, flinging it open. “Sorry. I guess we have the wind to thank for blowing the clouds away, though.”

  Ducking her head against the strong breeze, she ran toward the low-slung stucco building. She grabbed the handle of Dr. Shipman’s door and pulled it open, careful to keep a grip on it as the wind blasted through the open spaces of the office building.

  She clicked it behind her and smoothed her hair back. The door to Dr. Shipman’s office remained firmly closed, so Caroline pushed the button on the wall to indicate her presence.

  She picked up a magazine and thumbed through it while bracing her shoulder against one wall. A few pages later, when Dr. Shipman still hadn’t opened her door, Caroline checked the time on her phone—five after five.

  She was probably with another patient. Caroline dropped the magazine and glanced at her phone again. Should she text Cole and let him know she’d be running late?

  She doubted he even had business in Port Angeles. He seemed ready to wrap up his fruitless investigation—fruitless because he’d located his quarry but hadn’t realized it.

  She tapped her toe as another ten minutes passed. Should she knock? Maybe another patient was having a breakthrough—or a breakdown. She took out her phone again and called Dr. Shipman.

  Her phone rang twice and rolled over to voice mail. Jules must’ve turned it off for a session.

  Caroline c
rept up to the inner-office door and pressed her ear against the solid wood, her hand falling to the doorknob. No voices murmured in the space beyond.

  Had Dr. Shipman forgotten about the session? Caroline rapped lightly on the door and held her breath. She tried again. “Dr. Shipman? Jules?”

  She flattened her palms against the door and licked her lips as a puff of fear lifted the hair on the back of her neck. It came out of nowhere, perhaps originating with the dead silence from the office.

  Her fingers curled around the door handle again. This time she twisted—and it turned.

  She bumped the door with her hip, opening it a crack. “Jules?”

  The low light of the office indicated Dr. Shipman had been in session. Caroline eased the door open farther. The hushed atmosphere of the empty room repelled her and she recoiled.

  Then a piece of paper caught her attention—and the single white square on the floor sent her pulse racing. She’d been in this office only once, but that had been enough to tell her that Dr. Shipman was precise and orderly. Why would she leave a piece of paper on the floor unless she’d departed in a hurry?

  Caroline squared her shoulders and strode into the room. The air closed in around her, heavy and dank. She choked on a metallic odor that filled her nose and mouth.

  She couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to, but her legs wouldn’t listen to her screaming brain. Crossing to the desk, her feet sank into the carpet with a slow, methodical pace.

  She peered around the edge of the solid piece of furniture, her gaze tracking from the single low-heeled pump on its side to the dark, wet stain on the carpet, to Dr. Shipman’s blank stare.

  And then the memories hit her.

  Chapter Eleven

  The wind picked up the leaves on the walkway and stirred them into a mini tornado. Digging his elbows into his knees, Cole balanced his chin on his clasped hands.

  If Caroline wasn’t running some kind of scam, why didn’t she trust him enough to tell him what was going on with her? Maybe he could even help.

  For everything he’d learned from his sister about letting his sensitive side show with women, he must be failing miserably. Caroline was as secretive now as the day he’d met her in the library. Of course, that had been only a few days ago, even though it seemed as if he’d known her a lot longer.