“Maybe, maybe not. Do me a favor, Tory. Stay out of the woods.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere near those trees.”
“Now that we have that settled, what are we going to do with him?” Holt nodded toward the dog.
“I have a crate in the basement. I’ll put him in there for the night so he doesn’t wander around and pull out his IV line. Then we’ll see how he is in the morning.”
“Do you want me to get the crate for you?”
She nodded gratefully. She hadn’t been looking forward to wrestling it up the basement stairs. “Thanks. It’s sitting in the corner.”
A few minutes later the dog was installed in the crate on a bed of old towels. As they stood staring at him, Holt murmured, “What’s going to happen to him?”
She knew what he was asking, but she didn’t want to tell him what had already crossed her mind. “First he has to survive. Then I’ll worry about what to do with him.” She shifted her gaze to Holt. “Do you want him?”
His eyes softened for a moment, then he tightened his lips and shook his head once. “I have no right to get a dog. I’m gone for twelve hours at a time, and that’s on a good day. It wouldn’t be fair to any animal.”
“A dog would think that was paradise compared to running the streets of Eagle Ridge, scrounging for scraps.”
“No. I can’t take him.”
Looking at his set face, Tory saw the pain again. Pain that his brusque answer couldn’t quite cover up. “Have you ever had a dog?”
This time the pain that seared his face was raw, as if she’d torn the scab off a healing wound. “Once, a few years ago. It died.”
“It can take a while to get over the loss of a pet,” she said softly. “But eventually most people want to get another one.”
“I’m not taking this dog, Tory. I don’t have time in my life to deal with a pet.”
His anguish seemed out of proportion to the loss of a pet a few years ago. “What happened, Holt?” she asked softly. She didn’t question her need to know. Suddenly it seemed very important to be able to offer him some comfort, the way he’d comforted her when she’d confided her fears about the trees.
He turned away. “I had a dog and he died. That’s all there is to it. It’s not important anymore.”
“I think it is. It might help to talk about it.”
“It won’t.” His voice was flat and final. “Drop it, Tory.”
“All right.” She searched for something to say that would cut the tension swirling through the air. “Will I see you tomorrow?” She felt her face redden, and added quickly, “To check on the dog, I mean.”
“What do you think, Tory?”
He watched her steadily, and her heartbeat increased to a heavy, primitive rhythm against her ribs. She wanted to look away, but his gaze captured hers and held her captive. She watched, helpless, as his gray eyes turned dark and smoldered with heat.
“I guess you will. After all, he’s evidence in your case,” she said lightly, hoping her flippant answer would ease the tension in the room.
It didn’t. “Is that why you think I’ve been coming out here every night? Because of what’s been going on in Eagle Ridge?” His low voice sounded like black velvet. “I thought you were smarter than that, Tory.”
When he reached for her she didn’t even think of resisting. His strong hands gripped her shoulders, and he pulled her toward him. “Let me show you why I’ve been coming out here.”
He stared at her, then his mouth closed over hers. This time his lips didn’t tempt and tease. His kiss was dark and hot, possessing her and firing her blood. When his tongue traced her lips, she opened to him immediately and he plunged into her mouth.
There was no room for fear as heat and desire crashed over her, leaving her trembling and aching for more of him. “Holt,” she whispered into his mouth.
In answer he pulled her closer, easing her along the length of him. His hands skimmed her back, touching her as if he was savoring every inch of her. She felt his muscles quiver, felt the control he imposed upon himself as he slowly wrapped his arms around her.
She realized he was holding himself back so he wouldn’t frighten her, and a wave of tenderness washed over her. It mixed with the desire and made her ache inside, made her want him with an intensity she’d never felt before.
Winding her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer and touched his lips with her tongue. He groaned, deep in his throat, and shifted so she stood in the cradle of his legs. He throbbed against her belly, hard and hot, and another burst of liquid heat turned her legs to jelly.
Pushing her against the counter, he slid one hand to her waist and slowly pulled her shirt free of her slacks. His hand slipped inside and touched her bare skin, and she couldn’t disguise the tremor that shook her. Feeling her response, he thrust against her as his hand crept up her back, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched.
As his hand slid over her ribs and around to her belly, she clung to him, lost in the sensations. His tongue thrust deeply into her mouth, mimicking the motion of his hips. When he cupped her breast in his palm she moaned, tightening her hold on him. Pleasure so intense it was almost pain speared through her as he gently squeezed her nipple.
He released her breast and, drugged with desire, she opened her eyes to look at him. He stared at her, his face tight with passion, as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse.
She watched him as he spread her blouse open. He touched the hollow above her collarbone and let his fingers trail down the valley between her breasts and over her belly. Then, raising his eyes to hers, he murmured, “I’ve wanted you since the first day I met you.”
Her tongue was thick and heavy in her mouth. She couldn’t speak. Every part of her brain was short-circuited except for the part that poured overwhelming pleasure through her veins. He looked at her chest again, and slowly reached out and released the hook on her bra.
Brushing the flimsy material aside, he let her breasts spilt out into his palms. She stood there holding on to him, trapped between his legs and the counter, watching him hold her breasts in his hands, and knew that not even in her dreams had she ever felt or seen anything so erotic. It didn’t matter that they stood under the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen, or that both of them were still fully clothed. She was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life.
Until he bent and took her nipple into his mouth. Arching back against the counter, she heard soft cries in the quiet of the room and realized they were coming from her.
“Oh, yes, Tory,” he murmured against her breast, his tongue flicking out to circle her nipple again. “Tell me what you like. Tell me what you want.”
Slowly she slid her hands down his back until she cupped his buttocks in her palms. His muscles felt rock hard beneath her fingers. When she pressed him closer to her, it was his turn to groan her name.
His hands slid down her stomach and fumbled with the button of her slacks. Her breath caught in her throat as she instinctively pushed against him, throbbing as she anticipated his touch.
As his hand slid beneath the waistband of her slacks she heard a growl behind them. Holt’s hand stilled, then he slowly withdrew it and moved away from her.
She opened her eyes to see the dog swaying on his feet, staring at the front door, all the hair on his back raised and his lip curled in a snarl.
Chapter 7
Holt eased his gun out of its holster and glanced at her. “Stay in this room and don’t go near the window.” Without another word he headed for the front door.
She stood rooted to the floor, her body still quivering with the passion he’d unleashed, and watched him disappear into the night. As the throbbing receded she felt strangely unconnected, as if her body was an alien thing, a shell totally unfamiliar to her. Finally, hearing the dog growl again, she looked at his crate then moved awkwardly to kneel on the floor next to it.
His dirty, matted
gray hair was still raised in a line that extended the length of his back. Although he shifted from one foot to another, as if it hurt to stand too long on his swollen paws, he was oddly still and intent as he stared at the front door. Primitive bloodlust vibrated through him, and as she watched him the hair rose on the back of her neck.
“Hey, fella, it’s all right,” she murmured, leaning closer to the crate.
Slowly, reluctantly, the dog turned to look at her. The aggression that burned in his eyes slowly faded as she continued to talk to him. When she was sure he wouldn’t bite her, she reached in and stroked the top of his head.
At her touch his tail wagged once then he dropped in a heap on the towels in the crate. The hair on his back smoothed, and he lowered his head to his paws. Tory continued to pet him and murmur to him until she heard Holt come in the front door.
“I didn’t see a thing.” He stepped into the kitchen, bringing a whiff of the fresh, storm-washed air. “If anyone was there, he was gone by the time I got outside.”
Tory looked up from where she sat by the dog’s cage. “The dog certainly acted like he heard something outside, but maybe he was just dreaming.” She hesitated, her face reddening as she added, “I wasn’t paying much attention to him before he started to growl.”
Holt let his eyes travel down Tory’s body, and his voice got huskier. “I wasn’t paying much attention to him, either.”
Tory looked down to see where his gaze lingered, and realized that her shirt and bra were still hanging open. Flushing again, she pushed herself away from the dog crate and stumbled to her feet, turning away from Holt.
He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. She didn’t meet his gaze as she struggled to button her blouse. Gently pushing her hands away, he reached out to fasten her bra. Her skin burned when he touched her, and the desire he’d ignited earlier flamed to life.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Tory.” His hands lingered in the valley between her breasts, then reached for the edges of her blouse. “In fact, I owe you an apology. I was so out of control that if the dog hadn’t growled I would have taken you on the kitchen counter.”
She closed her eyes as he pushed the last button through its hole, her body throbbing with the memory of his strong thighs pressing against hers. His taste lingered in her mouth, and her breasts still burned from his caresses. But most of all her heart ached for the tenderness she’d felt beneath his rigid control.
As his hands slid down her arms she opened her eyes. “I don’t recall that I was doing a lot of objecting.”
His lips brushed her cheek. “Casual sex on a kitchen counter isn’t your style, Tory. I know that. The fact that I want you, that I have from the beginning, doesn’t change that.” His fingers trailed down her cheek and across her mouth in a tender, almost unconscious gesture, then he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m sorry I lost control.”
She wanted to tell him she wasn’t, that she meant every minute of it, but she didn’t. He was right. Casual sex never had been and never would be her style. And if that was all it would have been to him, she was thankful the dog had stopped them before she’d made an even bigger fool out of herself.
Her gaze lingered on him, taking in every detail. The gun made her pause, but she didn’t feel the revulsion she expected. Something had changed tonight. Seeing Holt with the dog had forever altered her image of him. The dog had trusted him, and so, on some level, had she. There was no way she could ever think of him merely as a policeman again.
The thought scared her senseless. When he was one of them he was easy to dismiss. Now that barrier was shaky, and he was becoming a formidable threat to her need for control. If the dog hadn’t growled, she probably would have made love with him.
Except that it wouldn’t have been making love, she told herself. It would have been sex. Hot, passionate, bumingher-alive sex, but sex just the same.
She shoved her shirttail into her slacks as she kept her back carefully turned. “Thank you for checking outside. I’ll sleep easier now.” Who was she trying to fool? If she managed to fall asleep at all tonight it would be a miracle.
“Tory...” She could hear him taking a step toward her, and she stiffened. He stopped behind her, but he didn’t touch her.
“I have nothing to give you,” he said, so softly she had to strain to hear him. “And even if I did, I’m a cop. Don’t forget that.”
Slowly she turned to face him. “I haven’t. Thank you for helping with the dog, Holt. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She stood stiff and straight in front of him, daring him to say anything else. After a moment he nodded and walked away. When he reached the front door he turned and looked at her, but whatever words he intended to say didn’t come out. Instead, he raised one hand and slipped out the door.
Standing by the counter, her heart and body aching, she listened to the sound of his Blazer fade into the distance. When she couldn’t hear it any longer, she pushed away and moved to the kitchen window.
The lights were still on in her clinic. For a second panic slid over her at the thought of walking alone in the darkness to turn them off. Then she stood up straighter. There was no reason the lights couldn’t stay on all night tonight. After what had happened earlier this evening, she would be a fool to go outside alone.
And she hadn’t been a fool for a long time. Not until she met Holt Adams.
Holt drove along the rain-slick road, his headlights slicing thin wedges of illumination through the darkness. He didn’t pass another car in either direction as he drove toward Eagle Ridge. Most people were smart enough to stay home on a night like this.
As he approached the spot where he’d found Tory earlier that evening he slowed down and stopped. Any evidence of a third vehicle on the shoulder of the road was long since washed away by the rain. He doubted there had been any in the first place. The murderer, he was beginning to realize, was far more than lucky. He was damned clever.
Holt burned to get out and plunge into the woods, to search the area where he’d found the dog for any evidence. He stayed in his truck. Between the rain and the darkness, he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of finding anything. Shoving the Blazer in gear, he headed to town. Tomorrow would be soon enough to look. He’d have a better chance of finding what was there in the daylight. But he held out slim hopes of finding anything. Whoever had left the dog in the woods for Tory to find was a master at leaving nothing behind.
He had no doubt the person who’d called her and told her about the dog was the person responsible for the two murders. His hands clutched the steering wheel and he pushed the accelerator a little harder. She’d been in Eagle Ridge less than a week, and the murderer had already noticed her. Panic clawed at his chest, and his stomach tightened with fear.
It was happening all over again, and he felt helpless to stop it. Two women had died. How many more would be killed before he caught the person responsible?
Tory would not be one of them. He sped down the quiet streets of Eagle Ridge, exceeding the legal speed limit by a considerable amount. When he reached the small apartment building where Bobby Duvall lived, he slowed down, searching for his car in the parking lot.
It was there, sitting in a corner, covered with drops of moisture from the rain. There were no signs of mud on the fenders or the tires, but the rainstorm could account for that. The windows in Bobby’s apartment were all dark. He sat in the truck for a while, then slowly drove off.
There wasn’t a soul on the street tonight. All the citizens of Eagle Ridge appeared to be at home, staying dry and minding their own business. All but one. Which of them was it? Who had been in the woods earlier, binding the dog’s legs together, waiting for Tory to come looking for it?
Easing to a halt in front of the police station, he looked around the quiet, seemingly peaceful town for a few minutes before getting out of his truck. He walked inside to find Jack Williams sitting in his chair, his boots propped up on his desk.
“I noticed.” Ignoring the young policeman’s discomfort, he asked, “Any reports of prowlers tonight?”
Jack relaxed slightly. “Not a thing. Nobody goes too far from home on a night like this. It’s been quiet as a tomb.”
“I suppose that’s an appropriate analogy, considering what’s been happening here.”
Jack flushed again and shifted his feet. “There haven’t been any problems tonight,” he insisted. “I’ve only gotten a couple of calls, and they were both about the storm knocking out the power.” He looked at Holt again and slowly tensed. “Is there something wrong? Is that why you’re here?”
Even though he was young, Jack Williams was no fool. Holt shook his head. “I just stopped by to let you know I’m going to do a little patrolling tonight. If you need to get hold of me, use the radio Because won’t be home.”
Williams said quietly, “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”
Holt jerked his head toward the younger man. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I know why you never go home and that you hardly ever sleep. You’re not responsible for the two women who were killed. No one expects the police to prevent all crimes.” His face crinkled in a trace of a smile. “Not even the city council.”
Holt looked away, unable to watch the knowing compassion in the other man’s eyes. “I may not be responsible for their deaths, but I sure as hell am responsible for making sure it doesn’t happen again. If you get any calls that sound even the least bit suspicious, call me on the radio.”
He walked out of the office before Williams could answer or give him any more of his theories about responsibility. The kid didn’t know a damn thing. He may not have been responsible for the first death, but the second had opened a wound that was still raw. And if there was a third...
The Dark Side Of The Moon Page 10