“As for Harold, I’ve had my police contacts in Atlanta checking on him. He’s another one to stay clear of. If Ben knew his past, he sure wouldn’t be asking him to take you to work.”
“Why?”
“Back in 1980, he was charged with raping his girlfriend. He served time and got out on good behavior. Soon after, he moved here. He hasn’t been into any trouble since, at least not that he’s been caught at. I’ve checked his house—nothing there. But I can’t get into the barn with the pit bull he keeps as a guard.”
She’d wrapped her arms defensively around herself when he’d mentioned the rape. “I was so unnerved by Tate, I forgot to tell you about Harold’s visit.”
“What visit?”
“He stopped by ostensibly to show me some paintings. Wanted to come inside, in fact, insisted on it. Then he called me a snob. He got pretty angry with me, said I’d better start respecting him as an equal. That’s when Tate showed up.”
“Did you mention it to him?”
“I didn’t think there was much point to it. Harold was as nice as pie when Tate showed up, like he was doing me some favor by bringing those ugly paintings over. No way would Tate believe he’d just been threatening me.”
Silas nodded at the truth of that. Tate wanted to believe what Tate wanted to believe.
“When you talk about trusting my instincts—God, I feel so paranoid even saying this, first the sheriff…”
“I’m not going to judge you, Katie.”
The tension eased from her face. “I get a weird feeling about Sam Savino, too. He stares at me wherever I see him. Just stares. It’s creepy.”
“He hasn’t tried anything?”
“Hasn’t said a word to me. But Gary said Sam used to hit him, that that’s where he gets his rage problem from. I don’t know whether to believe him or not, but…”
“Your instincts say he’s telling the truth?”
“Yes. I can see that anger in Sam’s eyes, as though he hates everyone. As though he hates himself.”
“I haven’t actively considered Savino a suspect, but I’ll check him out. That’s going to be tougher with his wife at home all the time. I’ll find a way in.”
She looked worried. “Just don’t get caught.”
“You’re the only one who seems adept at catching me.” His smile faded as he turned back to the suspects. He nodded toward her backpack. “Is that gun loaded yet?”
She shook her head. “I hate weapons.”
“Katie, you better learn to love that gun. It may save your life. And you have to be willing to use it on someone you know.”
He’d meant to tell her everything, including his own doubts, but he couldn’t, not when she was looking at him like she wanted to save him from his own demons.
“Do you mean Ben?”
“I’m not ruling out anybody.”
She looked at the box of folders. “The man doing all this…he rapes the women, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.” He tried to keep the pain out of that one word, but it seeped in anyway. “The sex isn’t why he takes the women. He goes for the power and surprise elements, and that fuels his sex drive.”
“It’s not Ben.” The words came out in a clipped rush.
“How do you know for sure?”
“He can’t…” She turned away from him, twisting her hands. “He can’t stay hard. There was an accident.”
Silas felt a strange mixture of outrage and relief. He’d always hated the image of Katie and Ben making love that sometimes haunted him.
She still hadn’t met his eyes. “It’s not his fault. I think…it’s me.”
“What do you mean, it’s you? Do you dunk him in ice water?”
She nearly laughed, but the shame was clear on her face. “The doctor said he should have been able to…you know. Obviously I’m not…sexy enough to excite him.” Those last words came out as a whisper.
He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that. Especially taking her in wearing those deliciously tight purple pants, the top that molded her curves and branded her breasts with peace signs. Thankfully he held it in, because she looked so very serious about it.
Now he understood why she’d looked so touched when he said she was a nine. She believed, really believed, she was unattractive. “Did Ben tell you that’s why he’s impotent? Because you’re not pretty enough?”
“No, he would never say something like. He’s much too kind.”
But he let her think it. Silas wanted to kill him for it. She was looking at him for confirmation—or denial—of that. If he said one word, one complimentary thing to her, it would be all over. Because it wouldn’t be with words that he’d prove the point, but actions. Actions that would lead them down a road better off not explored.
Silas’s cell phone chirped from the makeshift desk and identified himself. “This is Reverend Maplethorpe returning your call. You wanted to ask about Ben Ferguson?”
“Yes, sir, I understand he lived there during his youth.”
“He died here, too.”
“Actually, it’s his son I’m interested in.”
That got Katie’s attention.
“Ben didn’t have any children. You must have the wrong Ben Ferguson.”
“It’s possible, but I’d like to meet with you and make sure. Are you available today?”
“I’ve got men’s fellowship until two. I’ll be at the church until six tonight.”
“I’ll come at two. Thanks, Reverend.”
She was now standing in front of him, suspicion in her eyes. She probably didn’t realize that by crossing her arms in front of her, she pushed up her breasts. The shirt had a v-neck that showed a tantalizing bit of cleavage. He quickly averted his gaze to her face. He wasn’t supposed to be admiring her cleavage, or her slender shoulders, or anything else about her. He was here to make sure she was safe, nothing more.
“Silas, what’s going on? I heard Ben’s name on the other end.”
He tucked the phone into his pocket, then grabbed his car keys and the box of files. “Just some research.”
She followed him out onto the porch, where he called The Boss to attention. Slowly, he got to his big feet, and Silas wondered again how much pain the poor dog was in.
“I thought we eliminated him,” Katie said.
“It’s not his potential as a killer I’m interested in. There are some things that don’t add up. Hopefully it’s nothing. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.” He put the boxes in the back seat. “So no one goes through my files again.”
The Boss managed to climb up with Silas’s help and settled on his sheepskin bed. He waited until she got in on the passenger side before closing her door.
Once Silas slid in, she said, “I’m going with you.”
“You don’t even know where I’m going.”
“I don’t care, I’m going.” She crossed her arms and tried to look as stubborn as possible. “I’m not getting out of this car.”
He leaned back in his seat and sighed. Finally he started the engine and pulled away.
Gary was parked along the road; no surprise there. He’d probably been the one spying on them. He didn’t even pretend to be doing anything other than that. As soon as Silas passed him, Gary started his vehicle and turned around.
“Hold on.”
“What are you doing?” she said, grabbing onto the strap when he gunned the engine.
“Same thing I do whenever I want my privacy.”
Gary had just made the U-turn as Silas cut behind where the old convenience store used to be. He drove behind the pile of junk dumped there over the years and headed down the road that led to the old party spot for the local teens. That’s where he always lost Gary. He headed to the right, leaving the dirt road behind. The matt of pine needles didn’t give away his path, and the trees were spread just far apart enough to allow him to finagle the obstacle course with some amount of speed. A few minutes later, he emerged next to another road, and off they went—tailless.
�
�You’re good,” she said, glancing behind them.
“I wish I were,” he said, wishing he hadn’t said it aloud. Before she could comment, which he could tell she was going to, he said, “You were ashamed that you hadn’t fought for anything in a long time.”
She obviously saw the dodge for what it was, but gave into it. “I don’t like who I’ve become. I don’t even know who I’ve become. I’m Ben’s wife and his assistant and that’s about all. You made me realize how far I’ve wandered from that girl who used to fight the giants for what she believed in. The girl who felt so much, whether it was joy or anger. I can still feel the rage when Gary threw my kitten against the glass window. But I haven’t felt anything like that for a long time. I’ve been thinking about that girl lately.” She slid a look at him. “I miss her.”
“She’s coming back. In fact, I’ll wager she never really left. She was just buried under obligation and duty.”
She looked out the window. “I thought I loved Ben, I really did. He was everything in my life. Maybe that was the problem. He was all I had. What he offered, I took. I’d lost everything that mattered to me.” She slid her finger across the glass. “My mom, my home…you.”
That last word lodged in his heart and made him blink. “I…mattered to you?” He couldn’t resist asking, couldn’t stop himself even though he knew better.
“In a way I can’t explain, yes, you did. Maybe it’s this connection we have. Even though I can’t feel what you feel, maybe it bonded us somehow. Maybe I had a crush on you.”
He didn’t like the way her eyes sparkled at those words, and how that sparkle sent a charge of pure electricity through his body. He didn’t like the way she looked beautiful and vulnerable at the same time. “Do you love Ben?” he asked, wanting to get away from what she felt for him.
“What I feel for Ben is complicated. I feel something for him. I’d hoped it was the marrying kind of love or that it would turn into it. Maybe it was only gratitude. But I know it’s not the kind of love a wife and husband share. Not for me, anyway. Maybe not even for him, either. I feel more like a possession.” She glanced his way, then quickly looked away when she caught him watching her. “It’s not soul-shaking, knee-quaking, feel-it-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach love. It’s not a kiss that steals your breath away. It’s not exchanging a look that makes you quiver. Have you ever experienced that kind of love?”
His fingers tightened on the wheel. “No.” He kept his gaze straight ahead. He hated the silence that settled in the vehicle, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. He’d felt all of that with her, and yet, it was beyond that. It couldn’t be described.
“Do you think I’m still that girl?” she asked at last.
“Yeah, I do. I wasn’t sure at first. Whenever I saw you around town, I couldn’t see a trace of her. But she’s coming back.”
She smiled, and the light seemed to spread through his body. “Yeah, I think she is, too.”
He had to look away from that smile or he’d end up off the road. “I’m not sure I want to know why you don’t think yourself pure and good anymore.”
She pulled her knees up to her chin. He could feel her guilt more than anything else. “Kissing you puts me squarely out of either category.”
His mouth twisted in a wry grin. “I wonder where wanting to kiss you again puts me.”
Katie sat on those words for a long time, not sure how to respond to them. Silas obviously didn’t expect a response. He turned on the stereo and let rock and roll music fill the silence. She tried not to think about that kiss, focusing instead on the vehicle.
“I’ve never seen so many buttons, switches, and dials in a car before,” she said.
“I don’t even know what half of them do.”
The car smelled new and leathery. She’d never been in a new car before. Luxurious though it was, Silas went to no trouble to keep it clean. The Boss’s paw prints marked the beige leather seats. Leaves adorned the carpet. In the back, an Atlas and bowl of water for the dog was among some of the other stuff piled on either the seat or the floor.
A battered pewter cross hung from the rearview mirror from a cheap leather chain.
“Found it on the beach,” he said, noticing her gaze on the cross. “Thought it might be lucky.”
She reached into her backpack and pulled out the crystal. “To chase away the darkness.” She set it in one of the cubbyholes in front of the glove box.
“Katie, don’t give me that.”
“Why not? I told you, I don’t expect anything in return.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “It has nothing to do with that. It’s just that…”
“What? Every time I’ve tried to give you something, you turn it away. One time it was only food, for Pete’s sake!”
She could see his struggle in deciding to tell her. He loosened his shoulders by rolling them back.
“I have trouble…accepting things. It makes me feel funny.”
“Funny how?”
“Just funny. Inside, here.” He rubbed his knuckles against his stomach. “I’ve always been that way.”
“Didn’t you get gifts when you were a kid?”
“No. Not after my mom died, anyway. Maybe it’s because of the one gift I got at birth. My empathy,” he clarified. “Maybe I think all gifts are going to affect me weird. I don’t know, I’m guessing.” He glanced at the crystal in the ashtray. “I don’t have many friends, so I’m not used to getting gifts. It’s usually not an issue.”
“Uh, huh.” She didn’t get it at all. Except the part where he wasn’t used to getting gifts. “Surely you’ve had girlfriends through the years.”
“I’ve met women here and there, usually while I’m working on a book. I’m never in one place long enough to have a girlfriend.”
In the instant she felt that jealous spike over Celine, she realized that he could probably feel it, too. “I hate that you can feel what I feel.”
“That’s another reason I don’t date for long. Women say they want men to read their minds, but they don’t like when I read their feelings. I’ve learned to keep my thoughts to myself over the years, but they slip out. It’s easier to just stay on my own.”
Celine had hung around, though. Why had she wanted to see a photograph of her anyway? Now she could picture that pretty woman cuddling up with Silas.
They were heading east and were already long out of Flatlands. Since reading the files, she kept imagining those girls walking along these roads. Stopping to talk to a stranger who offered them a ride. Disappearing forever. Some of the signs they passed were for towns where a girl was taken.
“How can you stand to do what you do?” she asked. “Writing about murder, I mean. What’s it like?”
His fingers tightened on the wheel slightly, but he kept his gaze ahead. “I start to see everyone, particularly women, as potential victims. I imagine what their headline would be, how their life would be summed up. I did that with Geraldine, too.”
“Do you see me that way?”
“No. I won’t let myself.”
She tried to hold back the shudder. “What about talking to killers like Swenson? When I read about his life, in your book, he seemed so real, so normal otherwise.”
“That’s the scary part of what I do. I actually understand where they’re coming from. Not that I condone it, but I see that in some ways they’re just like us. They eat, sleep, dream, and fear. It’s what they dream and fear that separates us and them. I’ve looked evil in the face, and it’s human. He’s charming, handsome, rich, intelligent. He’s a police officer, the man next door, the guy at the deli. He could befriend any of us, any of our daughters. He could be any one of us.”
Those words chilled her, especially spoken in a low, thick voice. He spent way too much time in the dark. She picked up the crystal and dropped it into his shirt pocket. “It’s not a gift. It’s a loan.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “A loan, huh?”
“To chase away the shadows that
live inside you.”
He pulled out the crystal and set it back in the cubbyhole. His fingers lingered on it for a moment before he put his hand back on the wheel. Getting him to accept anything, even as a loan, seemed futile. She wondered if he had trouble accepting non-physical gifts…like love. Had he ever been offered it?
“What exactly are we investigating?” she asked, steering her thoughts away from that line of thinking.
“I don’t want to get into the details yet in case it’s a mistake.”
“Does this have to do with the birth certificate and diplomas?”
“Yeah,” he said. He clearly wasn’t convinced they were Ben’s father’s.
“Ben talks about his past very little. All he said was he’d been orphaned at a young age and lived in various foster homes. He never mentioned his father before. But he wasn’t lying. I mean, he didn’t look guilty at being caught.”
“Did he get mad at you for snooping?”
“Not at all. He said if I wanted to know anything, to ask.”
“People in town think he’s some kind of god, at least that’s the impression I get.”
She nodded. “He’s very kind and generous. Maybe too much. I don’t understand why they all seem to dislike me so much.” She hated the way her voice got thick when she admitted, “I offered to help out at the County Fair. They’ve had signs in the diner window for weeks now begging for help. Ben didn’t want me to, because he wants me with him at the fair. I offered to help anyway.”
“Good for you.”
Even his genuine pride didn’t lessen the disappointment. “They turned me down. Flat. I know they still need help; that sign is still in the window.”
“I’m sorry they treat you that way. I know how it feels to be an outcast. It hurts.”
She met his gaze then, feeling closer to him than she had to anyone since her mama. She felt other things, but she tamped them down before she could acknowledge them and before he could feel them. “Thanks, Silas,” was all she could manage to say.
Reverend Maplethorpe led them to a small room off the main sanctuary. He was stoop-backed, though he got around well enough for a man of his age. The room was crowded with children’s projects mid-completion. Globs of dried glue and glitter dotted the white table where they sat.
Unforgivable (Romantic Suspense) Page 24