Violets Are Blue

by Velvet Vaughn

  Violet hated disappointing Todd, and knowing how he felt about her and that she didn’t return the feelings made the situation awkward and uncomfortable. Added to the fact that he saw firsthand the effort she had put into making dinner for Jake and the encounter turned positively unpleasant.

  "It’s not really a date," something compelled her to explain, although she wanted it to be more than anything.

  Todd marched out of the kitchen and stopped directly in front of her. "It’s the Fed, isn’t it?"

  She didn’t need to explain anything to him, yet she had nothing to hide. "He’s a former special agent."

  Todd laughed condescendingly. "Special. Right. They're all special with the Federal Bumbling Idiots."

  "Todd." Her tone held a note of warning. She didn’t like to argue, detested confrontation, but she would not stand by and let him malign Jake or his former job.

  He sighed deeply and tossed his arms up in surrender. "Fine." He scrubbed a hand through his shaggy hair. "I just wanted to make sure if anyone asks, you say we were together on the night of January fifth."

  Violet mentally rewound to that date. It was the first day of classes. She, Chris and Todd had celebrated with dinner after work, but had gone their separate ways early in the evening. Why would that matter…realization dawned. It was the night of the first murder.

  "Todd, the paper said Denise Tennison’s time of death was between ten and eleven p.m. We weren’t together then."

  "The police don’t know that. Besides, we were earlier in the evening."

  "I’m not going to lie for you." A disturbing thought struck. Why was he even asking her to lie? "Why do you need an alibi?"

  "Two cops grilled me for over an hour today, treated me like I was a damn criminal." His eyes narrowed. "I guess I should try dating a cop to take myself off the suspect list."

  Violet inhaled sharply, hurt by his insinuation. "The killer is a male who rapes the women. And in case you’ve forgotten," she said, her tone low but lethal. "I found the third victim."

  Todd’s shoulders slumped. "I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s just…the police, they harassed me. I’m still on their list. They told me not to leave town!" His voice rose with each sentence. "My nerves are ragged." His tone turned pleading. "You know I would never hurt a woman."

  She nodded grudgingly.

  "You don’t know how much it means to me that you believe in me." He drew her into a hug. "With your support, I can get through anything."

  Pulling back, he ran his hand down her cheek and murmured, "So beautiful," before leaning over and kissing her on the lips. He pulled away before she had time to protest. "Good night, Violet. I hope you enjoy your…dinner."

  Zeus let out a rumbling bark and darted for the door as she freed him from the mud room. She felt miserable. She could tell she really hurt Todd’s feelings. But the worst part was the uncontrollable urge to take the sleeve of her shirt and wipe his presence from her mouth. The texture of his lips resembled a cold fish—not that she ever had the opportunity nor desire to kiss a cold fish - and even the fingers he trailed down her face were icy. She kissed him before without this negative reaction. Hadn’t she?

  For the second time in twenty minutes, the buzz of the chime caused her to jump and Zeus to bark. She glanced at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief. Time for Jake. All thoughts of Todd disappeared when she saw his handsome face through the peephole.

  A check of the alarm confirmed she forgot to reset it after Todd’s visit. She’d have to remember from now on. Stepping back, she ran her hands down her shirt to smooth any wrinkles and inhaled deeply before opening the door. The sight that greeted her took that breath away. Dressed in a charcoal sweater and perfect-fitting jeans, Jake looked incredible. The jeans gloved a nice, healthy bulge between his legs. He must be well-blessed in that department, she thought. Mortified, her eyes zipped to his face to find him staring intently, his eyebrows bunching angrily.

  "Why the hell wasn’t the alarm set?"

  Taken aback by his tone, she scrambled for a response. "I saw you drive up," she lied, not wanting to reveal Todd’s visit.

  He studied her closer and then nodded. "Make sure you set it always from now on. Who came by to see you?"

  How could he have known Todd was here? Enough time had passed for him to be safely out of the neighborhood. "What makes you think someone came by?"

  He turned around and pointed to the sidewalk. "Fresh footprints. Not very big, but obviously from a man’s shoe."

  "Mailman?" she tried.

  He shook his head and stepped inside so she could close the door. Zeus darted between his legs, jumping and barking, his tail wagging furiously, threatening to trip him at any moment. He petted him without breaking stride. "Your mail is delivered at approximately eleven a.m."

  "How did you—"

  "I was here yesterday when she delivered your mail," he interrupted as he crouched down to rub Zeus’s belly. "She wears winter boots, approximately a woman’s size six, while those prints are from a man’s boot, size eight, eight and a half."

  "But how—" She sighed and closed her mouth when he interrupted again.

  "The mail carrier," he emphasized, using the politically correct term, "Lynda I believe her name is, uses the sidewalk leading to the street while these prints are from the walkway connecting to the driveway."

  She opened her mouth and then wondered why she bothered.

  "It started snowing around three this afternoon and stopped roughly thirty minutes ago, a little less than an inch." She could see how he was so successful at his job. Nothing got by him. "The prints are fresh in the new layer without any additional snow filling them in. Therefore, they are ten, maybe fifteen minutes old. These are for you." He handed her a bouquet of wildflowers.

  She blinked at his quick change of topic. "They're lovely. Thank you." She sniffed the colorful blooms. "They smell wonderful."

  Zeus let out a playful yelp. "Zeus, leave Jake alone." He ignored her to continue frolicking with his new friend.

  "He’s okay, really. I love dogs." He rubbed Zeus and lifted his eyes to hers. "The visitor?"

  Darn, she hoped he'd forgotten. Well, she wasn’t a very good liar so might as well stick with the truth. "Todd Timms stopped by for a few minutes."

  Jake’s gaze was direct, unflinching. "Did he ask you to be his alibi for the evening of January fifth?"

  "What makes you think that?" She loosened her grip on the blooms before she crushed the stems.

  "Because that’s the one he gave when questioned today."

  "The three of us, including Chris, celebrated the first day of classes that night with dinner." Not a lie. Not the entire truth, either.

  "How late were you together?"

  "I don’t know for sure, but it was dark when we split up to go home." That left a wide range of time since it got dark at about four in Vermont in January.

  "It gets dark early in the winter," he said, obviously reading her mind. "Can you narrow the time frame down?"

  "I’m not really sure," she said, not completely lying. She didn’t know exactly how late it was, just that it had been long before the approximate time of the murder.

  He stood, stretching out to his intimidating height, his hands fisted on his lean hips. Zeus howled his displeasure at losing his playmate. "So you are willing to testify under oath that you were with Timms when Denise Tennison was murdered?"

  Violet rubbed at a sudden sharp pain in her temple. "I would be willing to swear I was with him on that evening." She dropped her hand and met his gaze. "But not to the time frame."

  She hoped that she conveyed her feelings that Todd wasn’t guilty, but she wasn’t willing to perjure herself on his behalf.

  Jake studied her for a moment and then nodded.

  "Is he a suspect?"

  "Sweetheart, at this point, everyone is a suspect."

  She understood that. Everything she read on serial killers since they discovered one pro
wling the campus was that they were usually the person no one expected.

  Sensing her need to change the subject, Jake’s brows dipped and he sniffed the air. "Something smells wonderful."

  You, she wanted to say. The intriguing mix of subtle aftershave and soap and male had her wanting to bury her face in his neck. "I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we could eat here instead of going out."

  Jake's smile was slow and sexy. "I haven’t had a home-cooked meal in ages. That sounds great."

  Violet was frozen in place. The smile transformed his face, especially the lone dimple bracketing one side of his mouth. She forced herself to look away. "Here, let me take your coat." Violet waited while he removed his heavy parka.

  "Would you like a glass of wine?" she asked over her shoulder as she hung the coat in the hall closet.

  "I’d love one. I’ll pour."

  He trailed her into the kitchen, Zeus dogging his every step. While she found a vase and situated the bouquet of wildflowers inside, he stabbed the pointed edge of the corkscrew into the bottle and began twisting. "Nice artwork." He inclined his head in the direction of the fridge.

  Violet followed his gaze to the colorful crayon sketch. It was a sunny picture of a little girl and a long-haired woman playing with a dog. "Yes, it is." She didn’t volunteer information on the artist, eight year old Melissa Walters. It was something she considered private. She volunteered as a big sister after Daisy died, hoping to ease some of the pain and guilt of losing her only sister. It wasn’t much at first, just a few hours once a week. But those visits meant the world to Melissa. They had fallen in love with each other. Melissa begged to stay with Violet but she had a mother who loved her the best way she knew how. Having never known a mother’s love, she would not take that from the girl.

  Jake moved closer to study the picture. "Is this the artist?"

  Violet forgot all about the snapshot of her and Zeus with Melissa tacked above the drawing. "Yes."

  "Niece?" He looked like he regretted the word as soon as it left his mouth. "I’m sorry," he said softly.

  Violet shook her head, determined not to let thoughts of Daisy dampen her evening. "I volunteer as a big sister. Melissa is my appointed charge."

  "I admire you for doing that. It’s a great organization and I’d like to help out, but I never have the time."

  Violet waved away his compliment. "It’s not much, really." Time to change the subject, lest he try digging for more information. "I’d better get this cooking." Sliding the lasagna into the oven, she watched the muscles bunch under Jake’s sweater as he twisted and then popped the cork. Zeus sat patiently at his feet, staring up adoringly at his tall friend. "Zeus has never acted this way around strangers before…or even people he knows."

  Jake glanced down at the panting dog and scratched the pooch’s head, causing a low purr to rumble from his throat. "That makes him a good safety measure."

  He poured wine into the two goblets and then handed one to her.

  "To a dinner that if it tastes half as good as it smells, will be amazing," he toasted.

  Violet tapped his glass, murmured a thanks and took a sip, studying him over the rim of the glass. His large presence filled her small kitchen. She realized how safe she felt with him here. It was comforting.

  "Do you cook often?"

  "Not as much as I would like," Violet admitted. It didn't seem to make sense to cook for just one person.

  "I'm serious—it smells delicious."

  "Thanks, it’s an old friend’s recipe. I hope I did it justice."

  "Lasagna is my favorite," Jake admitted. "By the smell of it, you did one hell of a job."

  Violet led him into the living room where flames danced merrily against the manufactured logs, emitting a soft glowing warmth. Zeus trotting happily at his feet. They each took a seat on the sofa and Zeus leapt up between them. They both laughed as he flopped over and presented his belly. She could sense Jake starting to ask questions, probably about her past. She beat him to the punch, hoping she could keep him talking long enough for dinner to cook.

  "Tell me about Jake Kincaid."

  He looked surprised at her question. "Where do I start?" he asked ruefully.

  "How about the beginning?"

  He shrugged a shoulder, one arm draping over the back of the sofa. "I had a great childhood. I have a sister who is married with one kid and another on the way. She and her husband live in Phoenix. My parents are retired and spend several weeks a year traveling around in a motor home."

  "Are you close with them?"

  He fingered a lock of her hair. She shivered at the contact. "Yeah, as close as anyone who only sees their family a few times a year can be," he replied. "Mom calls religiously every week," he added. "But I’m usually on some case and don’t have time to chit chat." After a thoughtful pause, he added, "She worries about me."

  "You should be thankful she cares," she murmured, thinking of her own mother who never called, who didn’t give a damn if Violet lived or died. That was something else she and Chris shared. Chris’s mother had been ill and died when she was young. She hadn’t known a mother’s love growing up either.

  He nodded. "She’s great."

  "You're lucky."

  Jake opened his mouth to say something and she just knew he was about to ask about her family. Thankfully the oven timer dinged. Saved by the bell.

  #

  "I hope you're hungry."

  "Starving," Jake said as he followed her into the kitchen. He grabbed two potholders to remove the lasagna from the oven while she slid a loaf of French bread in to brown, seamlessly working side by side. They moved with a comfortable familiarity, as if they had fixed dinner together dozens of times. They carried the food into the dining room and ate by the glow of the candles. The flowers he purchased in the hotel gift shop emitted a soft fragrance while music hummed lightly in the background. It was the most romantic meal he could ever remember eating.

  A strange sensation washed over him, a feeling of rightness, of belonging. He looked over at Violet and then down at Zeus, lying peacefully on the floor, having been taught not to beg for food at the table. He felt like he'd come home.

  Suddenly a steel band wrapped around his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He dropped his fork and knocked back a swig of wine. The same scenario, ten years from now, flashed through his brain. Violet older but still radiantly beautiful, children no longer infants gathered around the table. A tall boy with jet black hair stealthily fed the dog under the table. A little girl with long, flowing hair like her mother’s, jabbering about school.

  Jake banged his knee on the underside of the table as he bolted to his feet. Silverware rattled and liquid sloshed precariously in the glasses. "I need to uh, use the restroom."

  Violet eyed him suspiciously. "Down the hall on the left."

  He scurried inside and closed the bathroom door. He stood with his hands under the cold water, splashing his face, trying to control his ragged breathing. One minute, they were having a nice dinner and the next thing he knew, images of a future, kids, overwhelmed him. He felt lightheaded, his chest tight. Sweat even broke out on his forehead. For a moment, he feared he was having a heart attack.

  It took several minutes, but once his heart returned to a steady beat, he patted his face dry with a pink hand towel. It didn’t mean anything, he told himself. It was just the lure of a home-cooked meal and comfortable company that brought on those feelings of rightness, of…belonging. If he could really see the future, he’d make a hell of a lot more money as a psychic than a security specialist.

  He was just tired, that was all. He had practically slept at the station the last few nights pouring over the information they had gathered from each crime scene. Something was nagging at him, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  After giving himself a few more minutes to regain his composure, he flipped off the light and padded back to the dining room. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. He slid into his chair
and picked up his fork. He glanced up and noticed Violet staring at him intently, creases of worry cutting into the smooth skin of her forehead. "Do I have sauce on my chin?"

  She jumped. "What?" A slight flush crept up her neck. "No, nothing like that. It was just…I wanted to make sure I didn’t poison you." He watched her clandestinely stash the cordless phone under the table, the numbers nine and one clearly visible on the display.

  He fought a smile. "Poisoned me?"

  "Well, the way you bolted for the bathroom, I assumed I infected you with botulism or salmonella or, Heaven forbid, ptomaine."

  Jake chuckled and clasped her hand in his, stroking the base of her thumb. "I’m sorry. It was nothing like that." He didn’t explain and thankfully she didn’t probe for details.

  They finished dinner and Violet went to fetch the cheesecake. "Umm, you are really spoiling me," Jake praised. "Keep feeding me like this and I may never leave."

  #

  The car was there again. He was there again. Two nights in a row the car had been parked outside of Violet’s house. The cop was inside, doing God knows what with her. She was probably sleeping with him, letting him put his big hands all over her body. Kissing him and touching him…

  He clinched his eyes shut, a fierce erection straining his jeans when he pictured her under him, her eyes rounded in terror, her delicate body open to him, her pink-tipped breasts swollen and covered in small cuts. You always hurt the ones you love and he would have to hurt her, slowly painfully. He reached down and freed himself, stroking as he stared into the dim windows of her house. She should be with him, fondling him, tasting him, not that worthless cop.

  The man’s face burned with rage. Violet was his! His! Not some out-of-town Barney Fife who couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. He began pumping furiously, knowing he could find no release. Even the picture of Violet fighting against the restraints, her back bowing, screams muffled by the gag as he touched the scalding-hot brand against her soft belly wouldn’t be enough - it would never be enough until he had her in his arms. He roared with outrage.

  #

  It was getting late and Violet knew Jake would be leaving soon but she didn’t want him to go. They had just watched a movie and sitting tucked against his side, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm draped around her as the fireplace crackled in the background, was as close to Heaven as she had ever felt.