“Of course you can stay on the couch.” She wouldn’t tell him how reassuring his presence was. Hidden fears could be denied. “I’ll even dig up a blanket and a pillow for you.” She whirled and headed up the stairs, relieved to have an excuse to leave the room. She’d said things to Holt she wouldn’t have dreamed of saying to anyone, and she needed time to collect herself.
“Wait a minute, Tory.”
He spoke from the bottom of the stairs, and she reluctantly stopped. “What?”
“That can wait. I want to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“About Barber.”
Talking about Barber was light conversation compared to the minefield they’d been skirting. She let him lead her to the couch. “What about him?” she asked after they were both seated.
“Do you think he might have followed you up here?”
She stared at him, astounded at the idea. “I don’t know how he could have,” she finally answered. “He knew nothing about me, not even my name. I was a random victim. He pulled me over simply because he could single me out of the pack, and he probably wouldn’t have lost it with me if I had stopped immediately.”
“I’m sure he knows your name now,” Holt retorted, his voice grim. “Did you ever see him again after he beat you?”
She shook her head. “No. I talked to a lot of people in the police department, but I never confronted him. I would have refused if they had asked me to. I couldn’t bear the thought of it.”
“I know from John Kelly that he was suspended for a few weeks while they investigated, then he was fired. No one in Chicago seems to know what happened to the guy.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Maybe he came up here after you.”
She shook her head again. “I don’t know how he could have. I didn’t tell anyone but my closest friends where I was going, and they knew what had happened. They wouldn’t have told anyone where I had gone. I didn’t even tell my bosses at the clinic where I worked.”
“Why were you so secretive about coming back here?”
Biting her lip, she looked away. Finally she answered in a soft voice, “After it happened, I felt like my whole life was falling apart. It’s always been important to me to feel like I was in control of my life, and after the beating I felt like I had lost that completely. I thought that the only way to recover my control was to start over, fresh, in a place where no one knew what had happened. That’s why I came here.”
“I’ve been wondering why you came to Eagle Ridge. It’s not like you have any close friends or family here. You hadn’t been back once since you left when you were eighteen. In fact, after what you told me about Bobby Duvall, I can’t believe you have many good memories of this town. Why here? Why not some other small, anonymous town in Michigan or Wisconsin?”
She wasn’t ready to tell him her reasons, so she shrugged and stared at the dog at her feet. “Because I knew the town, I guess. And which one of us doesn’t want to go back to our hometown as a success?”
He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his gaze on her. If she looked up, she knew, it would cut through her half-truths like a razor. To her surprise, he didn’t challenge her. Instead, he said, “So you don’t think Barber could have found out where you went?”
“I doubt it. I quit my job in Chicago early in the summer and pretty much dropped out of sight. I came here for a few weeks when I bought the practice, but other than that I didn’t do much.” She touched the scar on her cheek. “I didn’t want to go out around people until my face had healed. And that took a while.”
Holt moved closer and gently pulled her hand away from the scar, then pressed his fingers against it. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” Only in my dreams, she wanted to tell him, but pressed her lips together. She wasn’t ready to share that with him yet.
Holt searched her eyes with his soft gray gaze, then trailed his fingers down her cheek before letting his hand drop away. “It’s not very noticeable, Tory.”
She tried to smile and failed miserably. “I know it’s hard to see, but to me it’s a symbol of how little control I have over my life. To me it’s enormous.”
“Why is it so important to feel in control all the time?” he asked softly. “No one is always in control.”
“I know.” She shifted restlessly on the couch and looked toward the kitchen. “It just is, that’s all. I guess I was more shaken up by the whole thing than I realized at the time.” She stood up, and headed for the kitchen. “I think it’s time to start dinner. Want to help?”
He stood, too, and the look in his eyes told her he wasn’t fooled by her change of subject. But he didn’t pursue his question. Following her into the kitchen, he said, “What do you want me to do?”
“How about making a salad?”
“I think I can handle that.”
They worked together in silence, and gradually she relaxed. They’d skated dangerously close to subjects she didn’t want to share with anyone. The truth about her childhood in Eagle Ridge was something she didn’t want to talk about, not now and maybe not ever. Even with Holt. Maybe especially with Holt.
A thin shard of moonlight sliced through the pines, silvering the brown needles on the ground. Something moved slowly between the trees, weighted down by the thing dragging behind it. The wind sighed restlessly, murmuring its approval as it wrapped its tentacles around her. It held her in place, unable to move, as the dark shadow and its burden came closer.
She tried to close her eyes, but the wind and the trees wouldn’t allow it. Her mind filled with terror as the darkness approached, but she stood rooted to the ground.
It stepped into a clearing, and the moon shone clearly on the thing dragged behind it. Pale moonlight had become blood. Everything was red. The dark color soaked the pine needles and deflected off the trunks of the trees, changing what had once been human to a ghastly caricature.
She wanted to look at the person standing over the lifeless body on the ground, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the horror. Revulsion rose inside her, thick and hot, battling with the power she felt radiating from the other figure in the clearing. Power and an intoxicating ecstasy swirled over her, reaching out for her. He wanted her.
“No!” The scream was torn out of her mouth as she bolted upright in her bed. She opened her eyes and looked around wildly. The trees were gone, and so was the horrible thing on the ground. Only the white walls of her bedroom surrounded her.
The third stair creaked as footsteps pounded toward her room. Shrinking back on her bed, she reached for the telephone on her nightstand without taking her eyes off the door. She had dialed the first four numbers of the police station when Holt burst through her door, his gun drawn.
“What’s wrong?” He took one close look at her then spun around, and peered into all the corners of her room and pulled open her closet door. When he dropped to his knees to look under her bed, she reached out for him with a trembling hand.
“Nothing’s wrong, Holt. There’s no one here but us.”
Sitting back on his heels, he examined her face then slid his gun into the holster. “What happened, Tory? And don’t tell me nothing. They probably heard you scream in the next county.”
She looked at her hands, clutching the edge of her comforter. Deliberately she loosened her grip and smoothed the wrinkles. “I had a nightmare, that’s all. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
He watched her, then sat on the bed next to her. Awkwardly pulling her onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. She resisted for a moment, then she melted into him.
Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she took a deep, trembling breath. He smelled warm and musky, like he’d been sleeping when she screamed and hadn’t completely awakened yet. His pulse beat beneath her cheek, steady and reassuring. He was warm and alive, and the nightmare was only a dream.
The stiffness and uncertainty in his hands gradually softened. Slowly he rubbed he
r back, his fingers hot and hard but surprisingly gentle through the thin material of her nightshirt. The movement was hypnotizing as he moved up and down and up again. Warmth from his body gradually replaced the cold that encased her, and she felt her trembling decrease.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No!” She shivered as the memory of the blood filled her mind again. “I just want to forget it.”
Easing her away from him, he looked into her eyes. “Did you dream about Barber because we talked about him tonight?”
She closed her eyes, afraid he could see straight into her soul and watch the dream unfold. “No.”
His breath ruffled the hair next to her ear, and she knew he was watching her. “Don’t hold it inside, Tory. Let it out. Once they’re exposed to the light, most dreams fade away into the darkness where they belong.”
A shudder racked her, and she shook her head. “Not this one. There was so much blood, Holt,” she whispered, reaching out blindly for him. He took her hand in his strong grip, then pulled her close.
“Tell me.”
And suddenly she needed to tell him. The words fell over each other as they tumbled out of her. “I was in the trees. Surrounded by them. They were talking to me, keeping me there. Then it came through the trees, dragging something behind it. There was so much blood, but I’m sure it was a person. Dead. And I knew that whoever had spilled that blood wanted me, too.”
His arms tightened around her. “Are you saying you saw someone in the woods with a dead body?”
“That’s what they want, Holt,” she whispered. “That’s why the trees have been calling me. Whoever did that is waiting out there for me.”
“Where was this, Tory?” Urgency filled his voice. “Did you recognize the place?”
She shook her head, pressing her face against his neck again. “The trees all look the same.”
He held her for a while longer, then gently disentangled himself. She made a sound of protest deep in her throat, and he took her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. I just need to use your phone.”
Clinging to his hand, she watched as he dialed the familiar number for the police station. “Jack?” His voice was crisp and no-nonsense. “Call Lenny and Tom in. We may have another murder on our hands. Start combing the woods.” Hesitating, he looked at her. “Start near the vet’s place and work your way toward town. I’ll catch up to you as soon as I can.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her as he set the phone in its cradle, and she felt the fear blossom in the pit of her stomach. “You don’t think there’s really been another murder, do you?” she whispered.
“I don’t know what to think.” He hesitated, then reached out and cupped her cheek. “Your dream sounded awfully vivid. I don’t believe in any of that mind-transference hooey or any baloney about psychic visions, but it won’t hurt to check. I’d do the same if I got an anonymous tip over the phone or in the mail.”
After a moment, she nodded and slid away from him. Her bed suddenly seemed enormous, wrapped in a chill that would never go away. She hadn’t realized how comforted she felt with him here and how alone she would feel when he left.
He didn’t move from the edge of her bed, and finally she said, “You’d better get going. Your men are probably waiting for you.”
At that he turned to face her directly. “I’m not going anywhere until daylight. I told them I’d catch up to them as soon as I could, and that’s after you leave for the clinic. I’m not going to leave you alone, Tory.”
She tried to ignore the tremendous wave of relief she felt. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. If there has been another murder...” She swallowed and tried to force the image of the dream out of her mind. “If someone has been killed, don’t you need to be there?”
“Don’t worry. If my men find anything, they won’t do a thing until they get in touch with me. Until then, I’m staying here.”
Her breath trembled out in a sigh. “Thank you, Holt,” she murmured in a ragged voice. “I don’t want to be alone after that...that dream.”
His eyes softened and the scowl disappeared from his face. “I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t you try to get more sleep?”
Her heart contracted with fear at the thought of sleep. While she was sleeping she was helpless to prevent the dreams. “Maybe I’ll get a cup of tea instead and do some reading. Would you like some coffee?”
He reached out and touched her arm as she threw the comforter to the side and tried to scramble out of bed. “I’ll stay here and sit with you, Tory. I won’t leave you alone.”
She stared at him, stricken to realize that he knew. He had seen beyond her words and recognized the cowardice hidden beneath them. “It’s all right,” he said gently. “It would be strange if you were eager to go back to sleep after a dream like that.” As she sat motionless, staring at him, he added, “And I don’t want any coffee.”
He drew the comforter over her and waited for her to lie down. She slowly slid beneath the covers and watched him as he eased against the headboard, crossing his arms behind his head.
Tory rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She knew that if she turned her head just a little to the left, the trees would be in her line of sight. Careful not to move in that direction, she listened to the sound of Holt breathing and waited for her body to relax.
Agonizingly long minutes ticked past until finally she turned to look at Holt. He didn’t seem to be any more relaxed than she was. “Are you going to sit there and stay awake for the rest of the night?” she asked, her low voice echoing off the walls.
He turned to look at her. “I’m not going to leave, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She swallowed and said, “Why don’t you lie down, then? It’ll be more comfortable for you.”
She couldn’t meet his eyes, although she knew he was looking at her. Finally he slid down onto the comforter next to her. Even though she was beneath the covers and he was on top of them, he filled the bed with his presence. “I’ve dreamed about you saying those words more times than I can count. Somehow, though, it was never under these circumstances.”
His low, husky voice shivered through her, very close to her ear. Longing stirred, banishing the chill from her bed as it fueled the ache inside her. He was lying on his back next to her and said, “Will you hold me, Holt?”
Slowly he turned to look at her. “What are you asking, Tory?”
Flushing, she refused to look away. “Just that. I don’t want to be alone tonight. I need to feel connected to someone besides the person in my dreams.”
His face tightened as he watched her, and she was sure he would refuse. Suddenly, without a word, he threw back the comforter and slid between the sheets next to her. Reaching out, he pulled her to him and held her cupped against him. They were like two spoons nesting together. All his muscles were rock-hard with tension, and his erection throbbed against her buttocks.
She felt tension rising. “Holt,” she began, but he interrupted her.
“Go to sleep, Tory,” he said, his voice harsh and strained. “You know I want you, and you can’t expect me to lie here with you and not get aroused. But that’s my problem, not yours. Go to sleep.”
As if she could, she thought. But as he tucked his arm around her and held her snugly against him, the weariness that had seeped into her bones overwhelmed her. Her last conscious thought as she snuggled closer to him was how good he felt lying next to her, how right it somehow seemed.
The alarm clock didn’t go off at its regular time. She awoke alone in the bed to the clear light of morning streaming into her room. Rolling over, she saw the rumpled sheets next to her and the indentation in the pillow that was scrunched into a ball. Holt’s scent clung to the pillow, a heady mixture of soap and man. She lay there for a moment, allowing herself to soak it up, then reluctantly stumbled out of bed.
They might have slept .in the same bed, but she wasn’t about to go downstairs dressed only in her nightshirt and robe. Throwing
on some clothes, she hurried into the bathroom and washed her face.
How would he act this morning? Her face flamed as she remembered how she’d pressed against him, glorying in the feel of his body next to hers. The memory of his arousal burned into her, as it had burned into her flesh the night before. He’d made no bones about the fact that he wanted her.
The smell of coffee drifted to her from the kitchen as she descended the stairs. Spike greeted her enthusiastically, then trotted back to lie down next to Holt. He was seated on the couch, a grim look on his face.
“What happened?” She held her breath, waiting for his answer.
“I have to go.” He avoided her eyes as he laced his boots. “I called Teddy, and he’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“What happened, Holt?”
She didn’t think he was going to answer. Finally he looked up at her, his eyes full of pain. “Jack Williams radioed me a half hour ago. They found a body in the woods.”
Chapter 10
Holt watched Tory walk into her office. Her slender frame was like a tightly strung bow, humming with tension. It would be a long time before he forgot the shock that had filled her eyes when he’d told her the news. Her face had blanched white and she had recoiled like she’d received a physical blow.
He walked into the kennel to see that Teddy Larson had begun to walk the dogs and clean their cages. Right now he was standing outside with a dog on a leash. Holt stepped through the back door.
“’Morning, Teddy.”
Teddy looked up from the dog he was watching. “Oh, good morning, Chief Adams.”
As Holt studied him, the young man’s eyes drifted to the dog. “I appreciate you coming in early,” Holt murmured.
Teddy’s gaze flew to him. “I’d do anything for Dr. Falcon,” he said fervently. Too fervently, Holt thought, observing him with narrowed eyes.
Watching the boy, thoughtfully, he asked, “How far do you go when you walk the dogs?”
Teddy gaped at him for a moment, as if he didn’t understand what Holt was asking, then his gaze darted around the small area behind the clinic. “Not much farther than this, I guess,” he muttered.
The Dark Side Of The Moon Page 14