“Please just put it away.” She turned toward the window where two moths were banging against the glass in a desperate effort to get in. The spider waited in the shadows, hoping one of them would catch the sticky web.
Ben came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She could feel his warm, moist breath as he spoke against her neck. His voice had tones of incredulity when he said, “You called me when I was in Atlanta. That meant a lot to me, that you called me. I’m always the one who calls.”
Even though he was saying something nice, his words grated like a fork across her skin. “You know I always want to be there for you, don’t you, Katie?”
This time he waited for her answer. She caught him watching their reflection in the window. She eased the edge from her expression. “You are…always there for me, Ben.”
“Am I still your hero, Katie?”
She swallowed hard. For years she’d pushed out the words he wanted to hear. This time she said, “Heroes don’t poison raccoons.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulders. She saw his gaze harden in the reflection. “I did it for you. You didn’t like hearing them out there at night, and you were always mad when you picked up the mess they left behind. I was trying to make things all right for you. That was the only way I knew how; we’d tried everything else. That’s all I ever think about, Katie, is making things better for you.”
It felt as though someone were tightening a clamp inside her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut. How could he make her feel responsible for the raccoon’s death? He did it a lot, she realized, made her feel low and undeserving. Then he’d say something to smooth it over and the hurt would go away.
But the hurt never really went away. She’d just shoved it under the carpet of his kindness. Like dirt, it only accumulated unseen. “You don’t have to make things better.”
“Yes, I do. I never feel like I’m doing enough to make you happy. It’s like I’m not quite good enough to be your husband. I try to make everything good for you, but it’s never enough, is it?” He turned her around to face him.
“Yes, it is,” she forced out. “It’s me. Maybe I’m too selfish. Maybe I don’t deserve you.”
His expression eased, and he bracketed her face with his hands. “Of course you deserve me. We belong together, Katie. Always and forever. I can’t help it if I made you my world. Can you forgive me?”
For what? she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Of course.”
He walked over to the counter and handed her a pink bag. “I brought you something from Atlanta.”
Not chocolates, thank goodness. She pulled out a white dress with a black ribbon circling the empire waistline. It looked like something a little girl would wear. She’d look terrible in it.
She tucked it back into the bag. “Thanks, Ben. That was sweet.”
“Katie, I want to have a baby with you.”
She drooped against the stove in shock. “Wha…what?”
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Your moods, your unhappiness. You’ve talked about having a baby, and I kind of dismissed it. I didn’t want to go through the embarrassment of tests and procedures. But I see how selfish I was. I just want you to be happy, Katie. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t want to lose you.”
For years she’d longed to have someone who belonged to her wholly, who would love her unconditionally. Now that he was offering her that baby, she was all tangled up inside. “I’m not sure I’m ready now.”
He pulled her against him and said in a thick voice, “Don’t tell me it’s too late. That I’ve lost you.”
“I’m just not sure I’m good mother material.” What kind of role model did she have? A mother who professed her love and then killed herself? Mrs. Emerson, who treated her children like employees? Maybe she was too cold to be a good mother. And the thing that scared her most: what if her own child didn’t love her?
“You’d make a great mother,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “What do you say?”
“I don’t feel right talking about a baby with those girls gone.” Still, the longing pulled inside her. “Maybe later.”
He tipped her chin up. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said, though she didn’t sound the least bit convincing.
Apparently Ben bought it, because he kissed her. “Why don’t you treat yourself to a bubble bath, ease some of your tension? I’ll fix dinner.”
“You will?”
“Between the girls’ disappearance, Silas creeping around, and the fact that you’ve been off-balance since your birthday, I think you’re over the edge. You’re taking everything
so seriously these days. So personally. Relax.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll take care of everything tonight, even cleaning up.”
Was she over the edge? Could she be blowing everything out of proportion? It was likely, what with her mother’s suicide haunting her and Silas taunting her. Fear and guilt could mess with a woman’s mind and make things seems worse than they were.
She kissed Ben back. “Thanks, honey.”
When she came into the kitchen forty minutes later, Ben had set the table with candles and wine. Something was sizzling in the pan on the stove. She was wrapped in her robe, her hair still damp.
“This is lovely,” she said, taking in the marigold he’d snagged from her garden and placed in a vase.
That’s when she saw the poison still sitting on the counter. And in the pan were two large hamburger patties spitting grease into the light above. Her stomach clenched. It was crazy to think he’d put something in the hamburgers. She knew it made no sense. She wasn’t a pesky rodent. Still, that paranoia shuddered through her and brought fresh images of that raccoon in pain and the hatred she’d felt for Ben.
He set a hamburger on each plate, sans bun, next to a pile of rice. Then he placed the plates on the table and took his seat. “What’s wrong?”
“I…I don’t feel well all of a sudden. Maybe I sat in the hot water too long.”
“You’re probably just hungry. Sit down.”
She glanced at the yellow box with the dead rat on it. Had it been moved since she’d gone into the bathroom? She could already feel the pain searing through her insides, as though she’d ingested the poison. He looked impatiently at her, and she sat down.
“Good. Now eat.”
The grease oozed from beneath the burger and pooled blood red on her plate. The rice started to absorb it. He was already eating, but he paused when he saw her studying her burger. “Is it too rare? I know you like it more cooked.”
“I’ve gotten used to eating it rare.” Because he always forgot to cook hers the way she liked, and she never wanted to bother him to cook it more. But eating an undercooked steak or burger was different than eating something she suspected was poisoned.
She glanced at his burger. “How does yours look? Maybe it’s more cooked.”
“It’s even rarer,” he said without looking.
He was waiting for her to take a bite. “Go ahead and try it. If it’s too raw, I’ll throw it back in the pan for a few minutes.”
“It’s fine.” She bought time by salting and peppering the burger. She cut into it with her fork. More blood oozed out and infected her pure white rice. This was Silas’s doing, making her doubt her husband. Ben wasn’t a serial killer, and he wasn’t a wife killer, either. She raised the fork to her mouth.
He stuck another chunk of burger into his mouth and talked around it. “I was thinking maybe I should cancel my farm calls this weekend. You know, with all the stuff going on, the girls being missing…and Silas hanging around.”
She set the fork down. “Silas isn’t hanging around here.”
“I know that.” He smiled. “I mean, hanging around town.”
“But Tate said that this guy, whoever he is, only hits a town once. He won’t take another woman from Flatlands. Serial killers have methods. They don’t change them.”
“How do you kn
ow about serial killers?”
She thought of the books tucked beneath her side of the bed. “Just hearing everyone talk about them.”
“Silas writes about them. Tate bought five books to read up on. He said Silas is a good writer—too good. He knows the minds of killers well. Like his own, I’d bet.” He glanced down at her plate. “Katie, you haven’t touched your burger. I made dinner so you could relax. And this is how you say thanks, by not eating it?”
Her stomach lurched then. He had a way of making her feel so…obligated. Not with harsh words, but with sweetness. She scooped up a forkful of rice and stuck it in her mouth. In the end, it wasn’t her choice to make whether to eat the hamburger or not. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up.
There were nights when Katie slipped into a deep sleep instantaneously. Tonight should have been one of them. Ben had seen her to bed, laid a cool washcloth over her forehead, and turned off the lights. But hours later, she lay there looking up at the fan that resembled a huge spider ready to descend on her.
She didn’t think Ben had really tried to poison her. The panic, well, that was a reaction to everything that had been going on lately. For the third time in her life, her world was folding in upon itself. The first time had been when Gary threw the kitten. Silas had been there for her then. When her mother died, Ben had been there.
Who was there for her now? No one. Even with Ben snoring softly beside her, she was beginning to think he was no longer on her side. Not emotionally anyway. She couldn’t trust Gary, couldn’t trust Silas, and apparently, she couldn’t even trust Ben, though that wasn’t his fault. Bertrice was too young to understand any of this, and she had her own problems to deal with, namely her friends’ disappearance. So Katie was alone, really alone.
She turned over on her side. Silas still had a lot of questions to answer. Mostly, why he was so sure she was in danger. The killer had struck here in Flatlands and would move on.
It’s someone you know.
She automatically touched her collarbone, but the cross was sitting in her jewelry box. She wanted to wear it in the worst way. To remember her mother, not Silas. It seemed that Silas haunted her every thought lately. Those smoky blue eyes floated through her mind constantly. The way he looked at her… wanted her. That guilty admission had turned her inside out. She wanted him, too. She’d never felt this way, even with her husband. Even when they had had a sex life, Ben never stirred this hunger inside her.
She quietly pushed back the covers and sat up.
“What’s wrong?” Ben said in a sleepy voice.
“Can’t sleep. I’m going to fix some warm milk.”
“Want a pill?”
“No, I’m fine. Just restless.”
She padded into the kitchen and turned on the stove, then poured milk into a pan. She sat down at the table to wait a few minutes. That’s when she noticed the whisper of light beneath the office door.
This time she didn’t grab the gun. If it were Gary, she’d scream. If it was Silas…
Her heart picked up another notch at that thought. She turned off the heat and opened the door. Only the desk lamp was on, casting an eerie glow across the desk and floor. The room was empty, but she again felt a presence. Whoever was in here had probably heard her walk into the kitchen. She walked in and looked where Silas had hidden before. Nothing. The bi-fold doors were slightly ajar. She pushed them open. Even though she’d known someone was in there, the sight of Silas in the shadows still startled her. She swallowed back the gasp.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he whispered as though she were a recalcitrant child.
“And you’re not supposed to be breaking into my home.”
“Touché.” He was dressed in black from his jeans to his T-shirt. Stripes of light crossed his face, making him look like a wolf waiting for his prey. Are you doing all right? I’ve been getting some pretty strong feelings lately.”
“I’ve been better.” She didn’t want to talk about the raccoon. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to verify some information.”
She closed the office door as he set an old metal box on the desk. “Ever seen this before?”
She had to walk close to hear his soft words. “No. Where was it?”
“Buried in the back of the closet beneath some other boxes. It was locked.”
“I don’t mess with the stuff back there. Most of it belongs to Ben. The rest is old paperwork.”
He opened the lid on the box. He’d obviously already picked the lock, just as he had to get in here.
“Ben’s not sound asleep,” she said. “You have to get out of here. If he catches you, he’ll probably shoot you.”
He didn’t look too concerned about his own safety. “Would he hurt you?”
“No, never.” She didn’t want to tell him about her paranoia, either.
He started pulling out papers, but stilled when she touched his hand. “Silas, tell me what’s going on. What happened to Dana and Geraldine? You knew, didn’t you? Knew they’d be taken.”
“I knew someone would be taken. I had no idea who or where it would happen.” His gaze took in her hand still closed over the top of his. “Until he stopped to give them a ride. Then I recognized Geraldine.”
“You were there?”
“In a way. I’ll explain it later, when the time is right. I don’t want to get you in trouble with Ben if he finds me here.”
Always he was concerned for her. He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of her fingers. That’s when she noticed the gauze bandage peering out from beneath one of his sleeves.
“What happened to your arm?”
“It’s just a cut.” He squeezed her fingers. “Remember when I told you that The Ghost is someone you know?” She nodded. “Geraldine and Dana knew him, too. He was someone they trusted.”
It was someone who lived in Flatlands, then.
“How much do you know about Ben? About his past?” he asked.
“I thought we’d eliminated him when he called.”
“I never eliminate anyone until I’m sure. But it’s not a killing tendency I’m looking for.”
“What then?”
“I have a guy doing some background checks. I had him check Ben first, since he’s closest to you. Something didn’t add up. What do you know?”
“Not much. He never liked talking about his childhood. I know he was in foster care for a large part of it.”
He dug through the papers in the box and took out a yellowed piece of paper. A birth certificate, she saw when he held it under the light. Benjamin Arnold Ferguson the certificate read. Born in Milledgeville, not far from Flatlands. Ben had never once taken her there. He didn’t go there himself. Bad memories he said, and not much more.
Silas pointed to the birth date. She blinked, and then took the paper herself.
“He looks pretty good for an eighty-six year old man.”
“This can’t be right.”
He shuffled through some of the other papers in the box. “Diplomas, high school and college, all with corresponding dates to the birth certificate.”
“There must be some mistake.”
He took her chin and lifted her face to his. “Katie, be very careful. Remember what I said about not trusting anyone.”
“And here I am, harboring a criminal in my home.” His eyes were more shadowy than the room itself. “Silas, tell me what’s going on. You’re the one who seems most likely to be committing these crimes. You tell me I’m in danger, but won’t tell me how you know. And you warn me not to trust anyone, including you. Then I find you breaking into my home, not once but twice.”
He lowered his face to hers and whispered, “Then why haven’t you screamed your head off?”
“Because…” That womanly awareness trickled through her. “I’m crazy.”
While Silas’s thoughts were often a mystery to Katie, she could clearly see desire in his eyes. He was standing so close, she felt the heat of
his body. It didn’t seem to matter that she was standing in her own home with a man who shouldn’t be there, wanting him to kiss her when her husband was only two rooms away. He cupped her face with both his large hands, running both his thumbs over the corners of her mouth.
She found her voice, which sounded hoarse. “I’m not everything that’s good and pure with the world anymore. I haven’t fought for what’s right in longer than I can remember. I’m not that little girl. I haven’t been in a long, long time.”
She felt his fingers tighten. Then he leaned down and kissed her. She saw his eyes close before he’d even started the kiss, as though he’d given in after a fight. His mouth was warm and soft against hers. She couldn’t breathe, could do nothing more than lose herself in what she was feeling. An electrical charge sizzled through her chest and then down to her extremities.
She was kissing Silas. Or rather, he was kissing her, softly, slowly. She leaned closer, becoming a participant instead of just receiving. She captured his upper lip between hers and moved back and forth. His fingers slid up into her hair, and he opened her mouth and deepened the kiss. She sucked in a breath, but her own hunger kicked in. Her tongue danced with his, tasting him and making her feel as though she were spinning on a merry-go-round.
She became a woman right there without shedding a piece of clothing. Just kissing him took her from being a little girl to a woman with needs and desires long denied. She could feel her molecules changing. Her arms went around his waist, and she pulled him close enough to feel the evidence of his desire. He wanted her. It astounded her that she could produce that kind of reaction in him.
He was breathless when he pulled her against him and kissed her shoulder. He whispered her name, a plea maybe, though the hopelessness in his voice was unmistakable.
“Silas, stop living in the shadows,” she whispered into his ear. “Let me help you.”
He buried his face in her hair and squeezed her tight. “I can’t.”
He lifted his head at the sound. “Ben,” she whispered, hearing him call her name. Her heart raced for a different reason. Silas slipped into the closet at the same time that Ben opened the door.
Unforgivable (Romantic Suspense) Page 20