“You ever out of sight of the back door?”
Teddy considered the question, then shook his head. “Some of the dogs go as far as the trees, but I don’t go into the woods. So I guess not.”
Holt nodded. “If you can’t see the door, you lock it behind you, understand?”
Teddy nodded slowly, although it was clear he didn’t understand. “If that’s what Doc Falcon wants me to do.”
Holt felt a flash of admiration for the boy who was trying to stand up to him by stating his loyalties so clearly. “That’s what she wants,” he said in a gentler voice. “You stay here with her today until I get back. Can you do that?”
“Yeah.” Trying to disguise the look of relief that flashed across his face, Teddy shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’d be fine.”
Something was bothering Teddy, but Holt didn’t think it was murder. His adoration for Tory was too obvious. When he had time, he’d question the boy and try to find out what it was. Right now he had other priorities.
“Thanks, Teddy.”
“I’ll watch out for her, Chief,” the boy called out as he turned to leave.
Inside the clinic he found Tory seated at her desk, staring out the window at the forest surrounding her. When he walked in, she turned to look at him. “Where did they find the body, Holt?”
“In the woods.” He wouldn‘t—couldn’t—lie to her.
“Where in the woods?”
But he could hedge. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll be able to tell you better after I’ve been there.”
“It’s close by, isn’t it?” she whispered.
“Eagle Ridge is a small town. Everything is close.”
“It’s close to me. I know it is, Holt. He wanted to kill me, and some other woman lost her life instead.”
“You don’t know that, Tory. And you never will know for sure. You can’t blame yourself.” All the blame was his, anyway. He’d been so sure Tory was the person in danger that he’d neglected to protect the rest of the town. And now another woman was dead.
“I have to go. I told Teddy to stay here with you until I get back tonight. And for God’s sake, lock your door today. Don’t let anyone in who doesn’t have an appointment, and make sure Teddy’s with you whenever you see a client.”
Her green eyes were huge and dark and full of pain. “All right. Be careful, Holt.”
He paused at the door to look at her as she sat at the cluttered desk, her dark red hair turned to flame by the aureole of light from the window. One part of his mind was so relieved she was safe that he was ashamed. Ashamed and guilty. Because he’d been so obsessed with her safety, someone else had died. “It’s too late for that now.”
He pulled out of the parking lot and pointed his Blazer toward the spot Jack had described. Too little time had elapsed before he was standing in a small clearing in the woods, staring grimly at a sheet-covered mound on the ground.
“Let me see.”
Without a word Jack pulled off the sheet and Holt stared at the body. God, there was so much blood. Turning away, he looked at Jack. “Do you know who it is?”
Jack swallowed and nodded, covering the body again. “Her name is Eve Blackston. She was visiting her aunt in Eagle Ridge.” Biting his lip, he stared at the sheet again, then looked at Holt. “According to the local gossip, she was pretty wild. Went to a different bar every night, left with a different man each time.” He shifted his feet, uncomfortable. “You know how it is in a small town. That kind of behavior doesn’t go unnoticed.”
“By either the townspeople or the murderer, you mean.”
Jack shrugged. “If he was looking for an easy victim, she sure fit the bill.”
“Whatever she did, she didn’t deserve this.” Holt’s voice was harsh. “Is the evidence crew from the state on its way?”
“They should be here any minute.”
“I’ll be back before they leave. Someone’s got to tell her aunt before she hears about it through the grapevine.”
Holt walked out of the clearing, pain tearing at his heart. He had failed again, and another innocent woman had paid the price. Memories swarmed over him, tormenting him with images he would never forget. Watching the ground, trying to make sure he didn’t obliterate any evidence, he let the grief and the guilt pound at him as he walked.
He finally looked up, expecting to see his truck. Instead, he saw Tory’s house and clinic.
The grief disappeared, replaced by fear. He had obviously walked the wrong way, but he hadn’t realized how close the murder scene was to her house. Retracing his steps, his gut contracted as he stepped into the small clearing. The body was lying almost exactly where he had kissed Tory that afternoon that seemed so long ago.
“I thought you were leaving,” Jack Williams said.
“I am. How many men have been in here?”
“Just me. As soon as I found her, I radioed you and the other guys. They went to the station.”
“Keep everyone away. When the evidence technicians get here, make them search the perimeter until they find something. This body wasn’t just dropped here out of the blue.”
“I know that, Chief.” Williams looked at him, insulted, and Holt sighed.
“I know you do, Jack.” He looked around the clearing, and his jaw tightened. “We have to find something this time.”
“The ground is still soft from the rain the other night. There’ll be something, Chief.”
Williams sounded more confident than Holt felt. Nodding, he turned and headed in the direction of his car. This time he found it with no trouble. Sliding behind the steering wheel, he looked out at the woods before starting the engine. What the hell had Tory seen in her dream last night? And why was the body in that particular spot?
A curl of dread tightened his gut. This was all tied up with Tory somehow. Tory, who feared the trees, who felt that they spoke to her, calling her to a dreadful fate that awaited her if she listened to them. The fear threatened to overwhelm him for a moment, and he battled it down. There was nothing supernatural about these murders. A human hand had wielded the weapon and committed these crimes.
Swearing under his breath, he revved his engine and headed toward town, preparing himself for the grief he knew he would encounter. And as he drove he cursed himself for the relief he hadn’t been able to suppress.
Tory sat at her desk, listlessly sorting through the pile of mail and listening to Teddy whistle as he mopped the floor in the reception area. The kennel boy had been her shadow all morning. She’d barely been able to get into an exam room without him. Normally Teddy disappeared into the kennel or the surgery areas, cleaning and tending to the animals, and she wondered why his behavior had changed today.
Holt. Her hand paused over a brochure advertising a special on suture material as a curl of warmth penetrated the chill that encased her. He must have told Teddy to stick close to her. She had been terrified that morning, and Holt must have known it. His bleak eyes had mirrored his reluctance to leave her coupled with the knowledge that he had no choice. Having Teddy watch her must have been Holt’s only alternative.
“You okay, Doc?” Teddy stuck his head in the door of her office and watched her anxiously.
She managed a wan smile. “I’m fine, Teddy. Are you ready to leave for lunch?”
He shook his head. “How about we order a pizza today? I still have some things to do in the back.”
Her heart warmed. “That sounds like a good idea. Why don’t you go ahead and order it? I’m sure the clinic can cover the cost of having a pizza delivered.”
A wide grin split the boy’s face. “Sure thing, Doc.” He disappeared, and a minute later she heard him on the phone. Leaning back in her chair, she felt some of her tension dissipate as she thought about Holt and Teddy conspiring to keep her in the clinic today.
Teddy had the right idea. She had things to do today, too. She shuffled through the pile of letters and threw all the junk mail into a recycling box on the floor. She laid the rem
aining three envelopes on the desk and stared at them.
Two of them had return addresses of clients she’d seen in the past week. They were probably payments for her services. The third envelope had no return address, although it had been mailed in Eagle Ridge.
A chill shivered down her spine as she looked at her name and address, printed in pencil in large block letters. Setting that envelope aside, she opened the other two then walked to the desk with the checks they held.
When she walked into her office, the envelope on her desk seemed to jump out at her. For a moment she wanted to throw it away without even opening it. Calling herself an idiot, she made herself pick it up and slice it open. It was probably from a client, either holding another check or asking a question.
The envelope held a single sheet of paper folded in half. Tory held it for a long time, staring at the blank whiteness and the crisp crease. Another chill rippled over her skin as she slowly unfolded it.
There were only a few words, printed in the same block letters as the envelope. Closing her eyes, she swallowed hard and took a deep breath before reluctantly looking at it.
“He killed his wife in Detroit. Are you going to be next?”
The sheet of paper fluttered out of her hand and landed on the desk. She stared at it, frozen in place, as her heart contracted with horror.
“He killed his wife. He killed his wife.”
The words battered at her heart like hail on a tin roof, relentless and unstoppable. She wanted to wad up the paper with its ugly message and throw it in the garbage, carry it to the incinerator and turn it into ash. Instead she stared at it, looking at the words that were already indelibly burned onto her .brain, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.
It was an anonymous note and should be treated with scorn, she told herself. The writer didn’t even have the courage to sign his or her name. But something prevented her from ignoring it. The pain she’d seen in Holt’s eyes was all too real, as was the guilt.
Small towns were known for their petty gossip. God knew she could testify to that. But they were also known for their almost uncanny ability to uncover the truth. If Holt had fled to Eagle Ridge hoping to leave his past behind, he’d made a major mistake. Had that miscalculation just come home to roost?
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The words grew wavy and indistinct as she stared at them. Who had sent her this letter? Which of the residents of Eagle Ridge hated Holt or her enough to send an anonymous note?
Unable to bear the sight of the letter for another moment, she picked it up and replaced it in its envelope. Then she locked it in her file drawer. Until she decided what to do with it, she didn’t want anyone else to see it.
Gravel crunched on the driveway, and she heard Teddy scrambling to open the front door. The next minute he poked his head around the corner of her office and grinned at her.
“Pizza’s here, Doc.”
Her stomach turned over at the thought of food. Biting her lip, she managed to give Teddy a weak smile. “You go ahead and start eating. I’ll be right there. I just have a few things to finish up in here.”
It was six-fifteen, and Teddy sat in one of the chairs in the reception area, idly thumbing through a magazine. Tory looked at him from behind the front desk. “You can go on home, Teddy. Chief Adams will be here soon.”
Teddy shook his head, a stubborn look in his eyes. “I’m fine. I wanted to read this article anyway.”
“I didn’t realize you were interested in Olympic diving, Teddy.” A tender, reluctant smile curved her lips. She was very glad she’d hired Teddy.
A flush suffused his face and he looked at the glossy sports magazine he held. “I saw it on television last time the Olympics were on,” he muttered.
A car pulled up to the front door, and they both raised their heads at the same time. Tory’s eyes flitted to the doorknob, assuring herself the front door was locked. The tension in the room rose as they waited for the knock, and she resisted the urge to run into her office and look out the window to see who was there. She didn’t want to scare Teddy.
“It’s me, Tory.” Holt’s voice was muffled by the door.
Teddy threw down the magazine and stood as Tory hurried to open the door. Holt stepped into the clinic in his uniform, and Tory sucked in her breath as she saw him.
His normally clean, pressed uniform was wrinkled and dirty. When he took off his hat his hair was rumpled, as if he’d run his hands through it more than once during the course of the day. His eyes were two cold, hard lumps of ice, and harsh lines scored his cheeks, making his face look as if it had been carved out of granite.
She imagined his eyes softened frictionally as they looked at her, then Holt turned to Teddy. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Teddy seemed to stand up straighter as an unspoken message passed between the two males. “I’ll be here, Chief.”
Holt nodded as he watched Teddy leave. Neither he nor Tory spoke until they heard Teddy’s old automobile sputtering as he left the parking area. Finally Holt turned to her.
“Was everything all right today?”
Everything was all wrong, she wanted to cry. The anonymous note sat in the briefcase clutched in her hand. The weight of it pulled on her heart and made the leather bag feel like it was filled with lead bricks.
“No problems. Just a routine day.” She managed to say it without flinching. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Are you?”
Nodding, she called for Spike and headed for the door. “I’m finished here.”
The dog scampered between them as they walked to her house. Tory kept her eyes on the gravel beneath her feet, unable to bear the sight of the trees around her. Their voices whispered to her on the wind, gloating about their triumph of the night before. Suddenly she saw Spike veering toward the woods and she called out sharply, “Spike! Come here!”
“He probably needs to relieve himself,” Holt said, laying his hand on her arm. “Why don’t you wait on the porch and I’ll go get him.”
She shifted the briefcase to her other hand as she watched Holt lope after the dog. The animal turned and wagged his entire body as Holt caught up with him. Watching them with suddenly blurry eyes, she felt the weight of the briefcase increase a hundredfold.
When they went into the house, Holt checked every room while she fed Spike. By the time he returned to the kitchen, she stood staring at the briefcase, wondering what she should do.
Raising her eyes to him, she said, “What happened today?”
His eyes went flat again. Turning away from her, he opened a cabinet, took down a glass and filled it with water. After he’d drained the glass, he looked at her again.
“Another woman was murdered. Same way as the other two.” His lips thinned. “We found a couple of clues this time, though. Maybe we can get the bastard.”
Terror wrapped its tentacles around her chest as she stared at him. “Where was she found?” she asked in a low voice.
“In the woods. Just like in your dream.”
“Where in the woods?”
His hand tightened around the water glass. For a long time she didn’t think he was going to answer. Finally he looked at her, and the expression in his eyes was as bleak and desolate as a desert wasteland.
“In a small clearing not too far from here. The place where I kissed you.”
The tentacles tightened another notch. “Why, Holt? Why was the body found there?”
“You tell me, Tory. You’re the one wired into this guy.”
She blanched and took a step backward as if he’d struck out at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Holt closed his eyes, and when he opened them again she saw weary contrition in their gray depths. “I’m sorry, Tory. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so damned frustrated that I can’t think straight.”
Tory realized she was shaking, and she lowered herself into a chair. “You’re right, though.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “It does look
like I saw what happened last night. Why, Holt? Why did I have that dream?”
“Hell if I know.” His voice was rough with fatigue. “Don’t you think I’ve been worrying at that all day, like a dog with a bone? I want to know what the hell is going on in Eagle Ridge.”
“A lot of things, apparently.” Fumbling in her briefcase, she took out the envelope and looked at it again. She had to show him. After this last murder, she had no choice. Someone in Eagle Ridge thought he was a murderer. And she needed him to tell her that the contents of that note were nothing but a lie.
“I got this in the mail today.” She extended the envelope in his direction, noting with detachment her shaking hand.
Holt unfolded it slowly. His face hardened as he read it, and he didn’t look up for a long time. Finally he raised his face to look at her, and she was shocked by the truth she saw there.
“It can’t be true,” she whispered. “Tell me it’s nothing more than a lie.”
“I can’t do that, Tory. It’s the truth.”
“I don’t believe it. You couldn’t kill anyone,” she cried.
“I killed her. Oh, I didn’t fire a gun at her or stab her with a knife. But I killed her, as surely as if I had.”
For the first time since she’d received the note, she felt the knot in her chest loosening. “What happened?”
He slowly crumbled the sheet of paper in his fist. He looked at the ball of white in his hand, then at her. His eyes were full of self-loathing. “My wife committed suicide.”
She sucked in her breath as she stared at him, aching for the pain in his eyes. “Oh, Holt, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for Barb. I wasn’t there when she needed me.”
“It’s not your fault she committed suicide, Holt.”
“Then whose fault is it?” he demanded. “I wasn’t there for her. It’s that simple. She needed me, and I wasn’t there.”
She couldn’t answer. There were no words that would erase the agony from his face. She longed to comfort him, to ease his pain, but she forced herself to stay in the chair. It was clear he wouldn’t accept comfort.
The Dark Side Of The Moon Page 15