Lorraine set their hot beverages on the table. “Wil, honey, the only Shakespeare you understand is the rod-and-reel variety.” She cackled at her joke as she whipped out her order pad.
Elizabeth grinned. “She has your number, Sheriff.”
“You bet I do, sugar. Why, shoot, I’ve known Wil since his mama carted him around on her hip.”
“I’ll have two eggs over medium with a biscuit and sausage patty.” He didn’t want to listen to stories about his mother, especially in front of Elizabeth.
“Me, too.” Elizabeth lifted her cup of tea. “And I’ll need a refill of tea in just a minute.”
“Sure thing.”
Elizabeth stared at her tea bag, giving it an occasional dunking. “So what’s on tap for you today?”
“I’m still working the homicide with Ronda Lou. Unfortunately, other crimes and emergencies haven’t stopped, and I have other irons in the fire. Literally. The smoke is really bad at Drake Oaks.”
“Is your property threatened?”
“Not at the moment, but we’re watching it. I may have to move Dad to Sam’s if they don’t get the fires under control. Without rain, I doubt they can extinguish the flames.”
“I always thought Florida was rainy.”
He snorted. “Sometimes it is. If that hurricane hits, we could have a flood.”
“But it would put out the Sticky Swamp fire. I guess it’s a double-edged sword.”
“I watched the tropical update with Dad last night. Even if the forecast models are correct and it hits inland at St. Mary’s, it won’t be here for five or six more days. I don’t want to think about what six days without rain will do to that fire.”
Elizabeth frowned, then took a cautious drink of her tea. “Other than stocking up on drinking water and stuff, what else should I be doing?”
“If ordered to evacuate, you leave. Do not pass go; do not collect two hundred dollars.”
She took another sip of her tea. “Evacuate where?”
“There’ll be public shelters, or you can stay in a hotel outside of the danger zone.”
“Well, as Grandma used to say, don’t borrow trouble. I’ll worry about it if it happens.”
Wil nodded. He wasn’t one to borrow trouble, either. Except concerning Elizabeth. She’d be worth any trouble if he could get close to her. Last night she’d let him get close. Very close. He’d had to flee before he lost his head and pushed his advantage. As skittish as she’d been the past few months, he surely didn’t want to spook her now, when he’d made considerable progress. But he wanted more than physical closeness. He wanted her to share her secrets with him.
“Here you go,” Lorraine said, handing Elizabeth a metal teapot.
“Thanks.” Elizabeth shook her head when Lorraine offered her a teabag. “This one’s still good.”
“Boyd won’t charge you for an extra tea bag, darlin’.”
She looked at him with the cockeyed smile again. “I don’t believe in wastefulness.”
“Good to know, Sophie.” He slipped the name in, watching her for any reaction.
She stopped dunking her tea bag for just a second, but long enough for his trained eye to register. “Your dog is thrifty, too?” she asked.
Quick-minded, he’d hand her that. “Sorry, I meant to say Elizabeth.”
She frowned. “So you’re confusing me with your dog? Thanks a lot.”
“Hey, she’s a gorgeous blonde, too.”
“Yeah, but hers is natural—” She clamped her mouth shut. Oops. Judging from her reddening face, Elizabeth hadn’t intended to reveal that fact.
“So what color do you hide beneath that shade?”
She smiled at him, too brightly and too cheerfully. “Mostly gray. Now you know. Please don’t hold it against me.”
Liar, liar. Lots of women tinted their hair. But Elizabeth was hiding more than her roots, he’d bet his next election on it.
Lorraine served their breakfasts, and their eating prevented further talk. He’d rattled Elizabeth by calling her Sophie. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have slipped up about the hair. With any other woman, he’d blame pride for the dye job. Not Elizabeth. She rarely wore makeup and dressed like a monk. She colored her hair, but not out of vanity. He’d bet his next election on that, too.
Wil finished eating and declined a coffee refill. He really needed to get to his office. “I’ll see you tonight. What kind of pizza?”
“Surprise me.”
The short drive past the County Courthouse to the sheriff’s office building took longer than usual because of school traffic. With cooler temperatures, Wil could go back to parking behind the courthouse and walking to the diner—assuming either fire or hurricane didn’t force the town to evacuate. He finally parked and entered his office, expecting to find Ronda Lou waiting at his desk. She wasn’t, thankfully, so he had a bit of breathing room to attend to other departmental business.
He headed toward the dispatch room, finding Rebecca Gibbons on duty. “Good morning, Becky. Find me Fred Fischer, please.”
“Will do. You want to see him?”
“Yeah, have him come in to my office.”
She handed him the call log, then radioed Chief Deputy Fischer. Scanning the list, Wil found nothing that required his attention. Property crimes, drunk and disorderly, and one Peeping Tom that turned out to be a fraternity prank. Lots of calls reporting smoke. He returned the log, then went to the locker room in search of more coffee.
His mind on Elizabeth, he yo-yoed between daydreaming about her kiss and worrying about her trustworthiness. His mind and his heart were convinced that she was the woman for him, everything he could ask for. But his reliable detective instincts warned him that maybe she was too good to be true.
Holding a cup of hot coffee, he rounded the corner and nearly collided with Fred, his sixty-year-old chief deputy, a guy with the most seniority in the department. “That was quick.”
“I was on my way in, anyhow. So what’s up?”
Wil ushered him into his office and offered him a seat. “You picked up Ralph Sapp the other night for trying to break into the Dairy Queen, right?”
Fred snorted. “That’s a regular occurrence. He’s not a good burglar, you know.”
Wil told him about Elizabeth’s concerns. “Do you think he’s capable of violence?”
“I have a hard time picturing anybody being afraid of Ralph. I’ve known him since he was born. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Not intentionally, maybe, but he doesn’t know his own strength.”
Fred held up his hands. “Now, wait a minute. You can’t be suggesting that Ralph has the cunning to put a gun to a woman’s head and fire, then dump her body and hide her minivan. Not to mention, wiping it clean of prints. Besides, Ralph can’t drive. He rides his beach cruiser all over the north end of town. You know that.”
“You’re right. Ralph could fit the profile except for one thing—his mental disability. But keep an eye on him, will you? His single-mindedness seems to frighten some people.”
“I’ve always kept an eye on him. His mama depends on me to keep him from getting locked up.”
Fred knew most of the people in Foster County. He’d been considered heir apparent for the job of county sheriff, but he’d declined efforts to put him on the ballot. After the death of his wife, he’d seemed to lose his ambition. Or maybe he preferred to stay second-in-command. Whatever his story, Fred was the best lawman around. He was also the closest thing to a mentor Wil had.
“Didn’t you go to school with his mother?”
“Libby graduated a year ahead of me. Married some loser who ran out on her as soon as he realized Ralph wasn’t right. The bastard.”
Wil let the subject drop. “You said you were on the way in.”
“Yep. We found something dragging the Suwannee. May not be important but…” He shrugged.
“What, for God’s sake?”
“Pieces of a twenty-two caliber pistol. And it ain’t been in
the water very long.”
CHAPTER NINE
Wil’s pulse quickened. This could be the break in the case they needed. “Could you make out the serial number?”
Fred’s smile widened. “Oh yeah, loud and clear. That woman from FDLE said we should turn it over to the FBI to trace.”
“By that woman, you mean Special Agent Buckner? Where is she?”
“She’s out at Reesor’s dock. Said she wanted to look at the scene where the body was found.”
Damn, did the woman ever sleep? When she’d said she wanted to look at the scene where the body was recovered, she must have intended for Wil to meet her at Reesor’s dock. “I better get out there.”
An hour later, Wil followed Ronda Lou’s Crown Victoria back to the station. He’d promised her lunch at Boyd’s, but all he wanted was for the workday to end so he could share a pizza with Elizabeth. She had something to tell him, she’d said. Was she finally ready to confide in him?
He couldn’t help feeling encouraged about his prospects with her, as if they’d moved up another step on the relationship ladder. Sure, he’d kissed her, but more was at stake than getting to first base with her. He wanted to know all about her. Elizabeth remained an enigma to him, though. His detective skills and contacts had failed him in finding any trace of her before she’d moved to Drake Springs from Athens, Georgia. Until he solved the mystery of her past, he couldn’t feel close to her.
As he’d expected, Ronda Lou wore comfortable shoes and her tan uniform, so he suggested they walk to the diner. On the way, they speculated on the possibility that the pieces of the pistol found in the Suwannee belonged to Cathleen’s killer. By the time they reached Boyd’s, Wil had moved onto the subject of Kris Knight’s disappearance.
“Sheriff, I’m afraid you aren’t looking for a missing person. You and your department need to consider the possibility of a second homicide victim.”
He ushered her inside Boyd’s and to the only vacant table, situated in the center of the diner. He didn’t think it wise to continue that line of talk in public. “Let’s talk more about that after lunch.”
Ronda Lou lowered her voice. “Are you looking for a body?”
“If it’s in the river, we would’ve seen it. We’ve had a team out every day, at least until they fished out the twenty-two.”
She nodded. “All right. We’ll talk more later.”
They each ordered a sandwich, which they ate under the curious eye of Lorraine. He figured Lorraine wanted to see if theirs was a working lunch or something else. Lorraine had been playing matchmaker between him and Elizabeth for weeks. Subtlety wasn’t her strong suit. But she didn’t need to worry about the blonde competing for his attention. Ronda Lou wasn’t his type.
They paid and walked back. Wil’s eyes burned from the smoke that darkened the sky. “That fire’s either getting worse or the winds have shifted.”
“The wind did shift. I checked with the fire and rescue captain on my way into town. Actually, the fire is almost contained. The crews finished digging the fire trench, so it just has to burn itself out.”
“I hadn’t heard that update. Thanks.”
“Do you have property in the evacuation zone?”
“No, but close to the eastern side of Sticky Swamp. My dad is in a wheelchair. I’ll need to move him if the flames jump the fire line.”
“Between the firestorm and the hurricane, I’m eager to head back to Tallahassee, out of harm’s way.”
“I don’t blame you. But you’ve been a big help, and I appreciate your insights.”
“Call if a second victim turns up, okay?”
“You bet. You think it’s a repeat offender?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s nothing scientific, just a gut feeling.”
They’d reached the corner of Court and Main. “Here we are. Let me ask you one more question about the profile. Could the offender be mentally challenged?”
She glanced at him and frowned. “Why? Do you have a person in mind?”
“We have a man in town who seems harmless. He has the body of a forty-year-old and the mind of a six-year-old, tops. But he’s very demanding at times. He makes people who don’t know him uncomfortable.”
“I don’t think you can move him to the top of your suspect list. Remember that we’re looking for an offender with forensic knowledge, someone savvy enough to submerge a body to accelerate decomposition. Mentally handicapped doesn’t fit the profile.”
“I didn’t think so but thought I’d ask.”
“You have to explore other possibilities. Remember, the profile is a tool. I’m not always right.”
“You usually are. I’ve seen your page on the Web site.”
“I’m flattered. You checked me out.” Instead of heading inside the building, she walked toward her car.
“Are you leaving now?”
“I’ve done all I can until we get ballistics tests and a trace from the FBI. But call me if anything new turns up.” She held out her hand to shake his. Again, she held on longer than he expected, and her gaze held interest. Her smile broadened. “Or just call if you want to talk.”
Talk about what? He wasn’t mistaking her behavior as overly friendly. Charming, too, but not tempting. Nope. When he thought about temptation, he saw an image of a curvy English professor who hid behind glasses and drab clothing.
Releasing Ronda Lou’s hand, he opened the car door for her. “Thanks again for your help.”
Elizabeth’s foolishness had hit an all time high. After calling her handler that morning and explaining about her missing friend, she’d told him she would tell the sheriff her true identity. Wilson had the right to know. Special Agent Cory admonished her for making his job more difficult and told her to be ready to relocate. He doubted that the two disappearances related to her case, but at the first indication that her location was compromised he would come get her.
She left the campus as soon as she dismissed her last class, and stopped by Fox’s Apothecary on her way home. She needed to buy hair color to touch up her dark roots. The small store offered a limited number of shades, so she had to settle for a dark ash blond instead of medium ash blond. Before checking out, she grabbed a box of condoms, the only brand Fox’s carried, and added it to her purchase. Tonight she intended to bare her soul to Wilson, not her body. But still. After that one hot kiss last night, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. Or did buying rubbers further prove her a fool?
She had time for a color job and shower before Wilson arrived with their pizza. Her severely short haircut dried in a couple minutes. She checked out the new shade in the mirror and gasped. Dark ash blond did not lighten as much as she’d hoped. She looked too much like her old self, especially with the shaped eyebrows. Quickly, she grabbed her glasses and put them on, which helped with her disguise. Thirty-plus pounds also filled out her face as well as her body, changing her appearance a lot. Enough, she hoped.
She dressed in a tan T-shirt and khaki shorts then slipped on a pair of white exercise sandals, showing off the bright red pedicure she’d forgotten. In sharp contrast with the neutral colors she wore, the crimson toes stood out like a Christmas tree at a bar mitzvah. Would Wilson notice?
As if her thoughts conjured up the man, he called on the phone. “It’s going to be a tad later than I thought,” he said. “Is that okay?”
“Not a problem. I have some work I need to do on the computer, anyway.”
“I’ll call you when I leave Vinnie’s.”
She tidied up the dining room and set out plates and napkins for the pizza. Would she be leaving her furniture behind? Until that moment, she’d given little thought to what she’d abandon when she relocated. A year’s worth of shopping, painting, refinishing, and decorating would be left behind. Somewhere else she’d start again. At what point had she formed attachments and started to think of Drake Springs as her home?
No, this wouldn’t do. She needed to prioritize herself. Number one: stay safe. Furniture, clothes,
and DVDs could be replaced. Friends? Well, she’d make new friends. She’d already lost Cathleen. Had she lost Kris, too? She’d really miss Sunny when she left. And Wilson. Leaving Wilson, not knowing if or when she’d see him again, left a hole in her heart as large as the one she’d suffered from leaving her family.
Damn. What did that mean? Had she begun to think of him as family? Did she love him? If so, she really was a glutton for punishment.
She booted up her computer on the desk in her spare bedroom, the one filled with books and plants but no furniture for visitors. What need did she have for a guest room? No one in her family knew where she was.
She browsed a few newspaper sites, then returned to her hometown newspaper. The Mustang Sally’s Garage ad in the sidebar proved irresistible, and she clicked on it. No updates since her last visit, but rereading the Web pages comforted her, as if she’d had a visit with Joe and Sally. The ringing of her telephone brought an abrupt end to her sentimental side trip.
“I’m turning onto your street, darlin’.”
“I’ll meet you at the front door.” Ending the call, she hurried to the door, calling herself seven kinds of fool for her eagerness. She had to tell Wilson the truth tonight and face the consequences, but that didn’t burst the bubble of excitement that buoyed her spirits.
Wilson arrived carrying an extra large pizza with a tantalizing aroma. “I got the works. Everything but anchovies.”
“You don’t eat anchovies?” She locked the door, then followed him to the dining table.
“Vinnie was out of anchovies.” He opened the box, treating her to a view of a supreme pizza covered in extra cheese.
“That’s just as well.” Anchovies weren’t a favorite topping. “Let me grab our drinks.”
“Coke’s fine with me. My mouth thinks I’ve swallowed a gallon of smoke from that Sticky Swamp fire out there.”
“Is there any progress on it?” She grabbed two cans from the refrigerator and brought them into the dining room.
“It’s finally contained, thank God. But the smoke is with us for a while.”
Reclaim My Life Page 15