He zipped up his son’s jacket, and they walked the short distance to the sheriff’s office. Harley gave Zack a packet of crayons and a wanted poster to color, and then stepped outside with Dillon. The day was overcast. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“Any news?”
Harley shook his head. “We sent everything from the crime scene to the lab this morning, and the coroner scheduled Cybil’s autopsy for Monday.” He ran his hand through his short hair. “The state police are coordinating with the Hollywood cops, looking for possible suspects in her pool of acquaintances. Cybil hadn’t reported any problems with a stalker, but you never know with cases involving a celebrity. The police are questioning her friends and relatives. Maybe one of them will have something useful for us.”
Dillon stared down at the cracked sidewalk. “It doesn’t seem real.”
“I wish it weren’t. Cybil’s parents are flying into Crescent City today to officially identify her body.”
He kicked a rock, sending it skittering across the street. “I talked to Irene at the diner. Has Marnie turned up yet?”
“No, she hasn’t.” Harley’s brows lowered. “It’s not like her to miss an appointment with a client.”
“No, it’s not. I’ll drop Zack off at June’s and make a few phone calls, see if any of her friends know where she went.” His gaze met Harley’s. The sheriff’s lips were drawn in a tight line. “I’m sure she’ll show up.”
He nodded. “I’ll check her house. After what happened to Cybil, I’m not in the mood to wait twenty-four hours to start an official investigation.”
“Marnie keeps a key under the planter box to the right of the front door.”
“Thanks. Let me know what you hear.”
Dillon admired Zack’s wanted poster before hustling him down the street to his truck. He turned up the heater and headed toward home.
“Can I go over to Grandma June’s?” Zack asked as they pulled into the driveway.
“Sure.” He slammed the pickup door and followed his son across the lawn. Otis bounded around the corner of the house to greet them.
Brooke stepped out onto the front porch. She wore a pair of faded jeans and an old U.C. Berkeley sweatshirt. Her blue eyes lacked their usual sparkle. “Do the police have any new information?”
“I’m afraid not.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and ushered her into the warm house. The air was fragrant with the scent of cinnamon and ginger.
She headed toward the kitchen. “I promised Zack he could frost cookies this afternoon.”
“He was talking about it earlier.” He leaned against the refrigerator and smiled at June. “Do you mind if I leave him here for a while? I have a few phone calls to make.”
June dried her hands on a dish towel and smiled back. “Of course I don’t mind.”
Zack burst through the kitchen door with Otis at his heels. Dillon gave his son a hug and turned to leave. Brooke followed him into the other room.
“What’s wrong?”
“Probably nothing.” He rubbed his hand across his prickly jaw. “Marnie seems to be missing.”
Her eyes widened, and her color receded. “Someone didn’t—take her, did they?”
He stepped forward and pulled her against his chest. “There’s no reason to believe anything happened to Marnie. She missed an appointment this morning, so I’m going to call a few of her friends to check on her.”
Brooke looked up at him. “Go make the calls.”
He cupped her face in his hands and bent to brush his lips across hers. “Thanks for staying with me last night.”
Her smile didn’t dispel the worry in her eyes. “I was glad to, though it wasn’t exactly the way I envisioned our evening ending.”
He let out a breath. “No, it wasn’t.” He kissed her again, pulling away when his body responded in a predictable fashion. He rested his forehead against hers. “I have to go. I’ll stop by for Zack later.”
“Take all the time you need. He’ll be fine.”
An hour later, Dillon hung up the phone and rubbed his throbbing temples. While he dialed the number to the sheriff’s office, he pulled a bottle of pain-reliever out of the kitchen cabinet, shook two tablets into his palm, and swallowed them dry. The dispatcher answered the phone.
“Hi, Fran. It’s Dillon. I need to talk to Harley.”
“He’s out right now. You might try his cell.”
“Will do. Thanks.” He hung up and dialed again. Leaning against the kitchen wall, he closed his eyes and waited for Harley to pick up.
“Hey, Dillon, any luck?” the sheriff asked.
“No. No one I spoke to has any idea where Marnie went. Lisa Stevens said she isn’t dating anyone right now, and the day before yesterday, Marnie told her all about the hot prospect she had for the Winston house.”
Harley swore. “It doesn’t seem like she would’ve willingly missed her appointment.”
He stared down at the breakfast dishes still sitting in the sink. “I’m worried about her. Did you check her house?”
“I’m there now. I didn’t have to use the spare key. The door was unlocked. The bedroom and entry lights are on, but nothing seems to be out of place. I checked her closet, and there aren’t a lot of empty hangers. Her suitcases are still here, though I suppose she could have a few things in an overnight bag.”
“Marnie wouldn’t go off and leave her front door unlocked. She’s too meticulous about things like that.”
“Her car is in the garage, so unless someone picked her up, she didn’t go far.”
“What should we do?”
“Search the woods. I’m going to round up a few of the local men to help.”
Dillon let out a deep breath as his heart thumped painfully in his chest. “God, you’re not thinking we’ll find her the same way we did Cybil.”
“I don’t know what to think. I’ll meet you at your house in a half-hour.”
“Meet me at Jesse’s cabin instead. He’ll want to join the search, and we can spread out from there.”
Dillon dropped the phone into its cradle. With jerky movements, he stuffed a few energy bars, a bottle of water, a flashlight, and a first aid kit into a backpack. He left the house and crossed the yard, knocking softly on June’s kitchen door. Zack opened it holding a spatula covered in orange frosting. Several streaks of orange decorated the front of his T-shirt.
“Hi, Dad. I’m not done frosting cookies yet.”
“You can stay a while longer if Brooke doesn’t mind.” His gaze met hers over Zack’s head. Her blue eyes were full of questions.
“Did you find Marnie?”
“Not yet. A few of us are going out to look for her.”
Her lips tightened, and she nodded. “Zack and I have plenty to do. I’m going to start painting the house this afternoon, and he can help.”
He pictured his son with a paint brush and shuddered. “I owe you.”
“We’ll talk about that after Marnie shows up safe and sound.”
“Thanks, Brooke.” He ruffled Zack’s hair and left. Hurrying through the forest, he looked for bent or broken branches in the undergrowth and saw nothing. No one had left the trail in this section of the forest. When he reached his grandfather’s cabin, he rapped sharply on the door and pushed it open. Jesse was sitting at the table eating a sandwich.
He shut the door. “Late lunch?”
“Damned police spent half the morning asking me the same questions Harley asked last night.”
“Did you remember anything else?”
“Nothing to remember.” Jesse frowned. “You don’t look so good.”
“I didn’t sleep much.” Dillon pulled out a chair. “Marnie Palmer is missing. A few of us are going out to search for her in the woods.”
Jesse laid his sandwich on his plate and stared at him. “What the hell is going on around here?”
“I don’t know, Grandpa. We don’t have any reason to think we’ll find Marnie in the woods, but we need to make a
bsolutely certain she isn’t out there somewhere.”
He pushed back his chair. “I’ll get my coat and my gun.”
Dillon stood and rested his hand on his grandfather’s shoulder. “Eat your sandwich first. It’ll be a few minutes before Harley gets here.”
Jesse finished his lunch and was waiting with his shotgun when Harley arrived with a couple of deputies and several local men. He split them into groups and assigned search areas.
Dillon crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his grandfather. “Leave your gun. We aren’t going to find anything more dangerous than a rabid squirrel.”
His bushy white brows lowered. “You don’t know that.”
“I feel pretty confident I’m right.” He held out his hand for the gun.
Grumbling beneath his breath, Jesse stalked back to the cabin and returned a minute later without the gun. Carter Shaw grinned. “Let’s go, Jesse. We’ve got the southeast quadrant. You can stick with me.”
Dillon and Elliot Locke fell in behind them.
“It’s awful about Cybil,” Elliot said after a short silence.
“Yeah.” Dillon pushed aside a huckleberry bush. “I don’t see how Cybil’s murder can be related to Marnie’s disappearance, but I guess we need to make sure.”
“Those two women don’t have anything in common other than the fact they both grew up in Woodvale.”
Dillon glanced over at him. “Marnie must have a new man in her life, someone she didn’t talk about to her friends. She’ll turn up shortly, embarrassed to have unintentionally set off such an alarm.”
Elliot pushed his wire rimmed glasses up his nose. “You’re probably right. Marnie never has a problem finding someone to date.”
The conversation lagged as they reached the search area assigned to them. The four men split up and went in opposite directions. After an hour of thrashing through the sword fern and tan oak, Dillon made his way back to their meeting spot. Carter was already there.
The doctor hopped down from his seat on a rotted stump. “Anything?”
“Not a sign of Marnie or anyone else for that matter. As far as I can tell, no one has been in this area in quite a while.”
Carter nodded. “We won’t find her. The sick pervert who killed Cybil can’t have anything to do with Marnie.”
“That’s what I told Elliot. She’s off somewhere with potential husband number three.”
Carter grinned. “Is that why you two split? Was Marnie hearing church bells?”
Dillon sighed. “Yeah. You know how she is, determined to get her way when she sets her mind to something. I didn’t want her imagining there was more to our relationship than having a good time.”
The smile disappeared. “I know how Marnie is. You and Cybil and Marnie and me, we had ourselves quite a time back in the day.” His penetrating blue gaze met Dillon’s. “I’m sorrier than I can say about Cybil.”
“Me, too.” He turned abruptly as a rustling in the underbrush drew his attention. Jesse stepped out of the lengthening shadows, and Elliot arrived a few minutes later.
“Any sign of her?” Carter asked.
Jesse shook his head. “No news is good news. Where do we head from here?”
Dillon pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and checked in with Harley before they moved on. It was getting almost too dark to see when they finished searching their last assigned section. Wearily, he led the way back to Jesse’s cabin.
The search parties were breaking up, the men heading home. Harley laid a hand on Dillon’s arm. “You look exhausted. Go home and get some sleep.”
His lips curved in a tired smile. “I will if you will. There’s nothing else we can do tonight.”
Not in the mood for company, he started down the trail alone. He shivered in the chilly evening air and shoved his hands more deeply into his pockets. Damp mist swirled around him. A light glowed ahead in the darkness. The thought of Brooke waiting behind that bright window quickened his step as he left the woods behind.
****
He shut the door to his home and leaned against it, exhaustion weighing on him like an anvil. He’d spent hours with the others, “searching” for the women. The fools didn’t have a clue. Blinking grainy eyes, he pulled off his boots, dropped them on the floor, and padded into the kitchen in his socks. After fishing a bottle of whiskey from the back of the cupboard, he poured a shot and gulped it down.
Fire burned a trail to his gut, and a shudder wracked his body. Cupping his hands under the running faucet, he splashed water on his face, then stood with his head hanging. After a moment, he reached for a towel.
No one understood why he had to do it. They thought he was some sort of freak, an amoral psychopath. Couldn’t all those righteous citizens see that the women had forced him to take action? Didn’t they know a man could only be teased and tempted so far before his defenses crumbled? As girls, they’d stolen his affection with no thought to the consequences, and now he had to take back the pieces of his heart, make it whole again.
He threw the towel, knocking over the shot glass. It shattered on the floor, sending shards of glass in every direction. Taking a deep breath, he bent to clean up the mess. He would pick up the broken pieces and move on.
****
Brooke heard Otis barking as she pulled the hot casserole dish from the oven. Steam rose, and she sniffed appreciatively. When the kitchen door opened, Dillon entered with the dog at his heels. She dropped the pot holders on the counter and smiled. “You’re just in time for dinner.”
“I’m pretty hungry.” He set his backpack on the floor and crossed the kitchen, stopping directly in front of her.
Her breath caught when he reached out and touched her cheek.
“Paint,” he said, holding up a finger smudged white.”
“I must have missed a spot.” She studied his face, noting the deeply etched lines around his mouth and the creases in his forehead. “Did you find Marnie?”
He shook his head. “I spent the whole afternoon praying we wouldn’t.” He nodded toward the casserole. “That smells good.”
“It’ll taste even better. Grandma made it.”
He reached out again and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
Her stomach quivered at the casual touch.
“I don’t hear my son. Did you get tired of his help and lock him in a closet?”
“Zack is a very energetic painter. I think he wore himself out. He’s in the living room playing dominoes with Grandma.”
Dillon took a step forward and pulled her against his chest. “Then this seems like a golden opportunity.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “For what?”
“This.” He lowered his head and kissed her, his lips cool against hers. He tasted of the night air. Her hands crept up, touching the back of his neck, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue pushed into her mouth, stroking hers.
Brooke moaned low in her throat and pressed closer against him. Heat surged through her body as his hands clasped her bottom and kneaded the flesh beneath the denim of her jeans.
Running footsteps broke them apart. She took a step back as Zack burst into the room. With a hand that wasn’t quite steady, she touched her lips.
“Hi, Dad!”
“Hi, Son. Did you have fun this afternoon?”
“It was great. I painted and painted. Then Brooke got clean clothes for me from our house and made me take a bath.” He wrinkled his nose. “That part wasn’t so awesome.”
Dillon smiled. “I’m deeply in her debt.”
While the boy chattered to his father, Brooke and June brought the food to the table. The conversation during dinner revolved around the house painting project, and it wasn’t until Zack was busy eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream and a gingerbread cookie in front of the TV that Brooke was able to talk to Dillon alone.
She scraped the last dinner plate and loaded it into the dishwasher before turning to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“There isn’t much to say.” He rubbed his hand down the side of his face and sighed. “Marnie disappeared without leaving a clue to her whereabouts. Her house was unlocked, her car in the garage. There’s no sign of a struggle or any other reason to think she was taken against her will.”
“Is it like her to go off without telling anyone?”
“Maybe, but she missed an important appointment, and that definitely isn’t her style.”
She touched his sleeve. “After what happened to Cybil, I can understand why you’re worried.”
He reached for her hand. “Grab your jacket, and let’s go outside for a minute.”
Brooke took a fleece jacket off the hook by the door and followed him into the yard. He led her around the house to the front porch and pulled her down onto the swing. She shivered.
“Cold?”
“A little.”
Pulling her closer, he wrapped her in his arms. She leaned against his chest.
“Thanks for watching Zack this afternoon.”
“It wasn’t a problem. He’s a great kid, funny and smart.”
“Sometimes a little too smart.” His breath stirred her hair. “If he sees us together, he’ll start getting ideas.”
Brooke looked up at him. “Would that bother you?”
“I don’t want him to get hurt. The other day he talked about how his friend, Brad, has a new mom and wondered when he would get one. I don’t want him forming expectations.”
“You have no intention of marrying again?” she asked.
“I have enough on my plate with Zack and Jesse and Big Timber. Sometimes I feel like I’m spread too thin as it is.”
She pulled away slightly. “Is that how you see a relationship, as another demand on your time?”
“Quite frankly, yes.”
Brooke reared back. “Is this your subtle way of warning me not to have expectations either?”
“Ah, hell, now you’re mad.”
“What did you expect?” she demanded, her tone sharp. “I’m not thrilled to hear you consider spending time with me a burden.”
He closed his eyes briefly before meeting her gaze. “I didn’t mean anything of the sort. Being with you is great.”
“But?”
A Deadly Love Page 7