He set his coffee down, slid off of the barstool, came around the island, and stood in front of me. Lifting his hands, he ran fingers down both sides of my face, brushing hair off my cheeks and tucking it behind my ears. “Go out with me tonight.”
“Coop… I…”
He stepped back. “It’s the boyfriend, isn’t it?”
Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed his hand. “No! It’s not that.”
He stopped and leaned forward again. “What is it then?”
I kept my eyes on his. “There’s just… there’s just so much going on in my life right now. And once I’ve helped Grammy move, I’m heading back to New York.”
“Well you’re here now, aren’t you? And you can’t pack twenty-four hours a day. Go to dinner with me. Give me one evening. If what was once between us is truly dead, we’ll know. And if that’s the case, we can at least clear the air enough to be friends. We go way too far back to not at least repair our friendship.”
He had a point. But I didn’t need an evening to know that there was still very much something between us.
He stepped closer, slid a hand to the back of my neck, and echoed my exact thoughts. “For the record, I don’t think the thing between us is anywhere close to dead.”
He was leaning in, his lips close to mine, when Bryn’s doorbell chimed.
Coop touched his forehead to mine and sighed. “I’m going to kill whoever that is.” Then he withdrew his hand from my neck and walked over to the intercom. “What?” he barked, and I chuckled.
“It’s Jake.”
“Come on up so I can kill you.”
A moment later, Jake climbed the steps. “Well good morning to you, too! Is Bryn already gone?”
“Yeah.” Coop put his hands on Jake’s shoulders and turned him back to the stairs. “She’s long gone. You can find her at the diner.”
Jake ducked away from Coop’s touch. “No, she’ll already be working. I’ll just have a cup of coffee here.” He headed for the coffee pot.
Coop’s face softened when he saw me grinning. This isn’t over, he mouthed.
“What were the two of you up to before I barged in?” Jake asked, pulling a mug from the cabinet. Before either of us could answer, he turned with his coffee and spotted the box on the island. “Oh! Did someone bring breakfast?”
“You’re an ass. You know that, right?” Coop said.
“Why? Did I interrupt something?”
I laughed. “No, you didn’t. In fact, I’m just leaving. I have to get to the sheriff’s office to make a statement.”
I went to the bedroom to retrieve my purse. When I returned, Coop was standing by the stairs.
“You ready?” he asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going with you to the sheriff’s office.”
“Why?”
“If you have to ask, then you’re not taking this stalker thing very seriously. We’ll talk about it on the way.”
Eighteen
Coop
“Let’s start with who all knew you were coming to town,” Sheriff Daniels said.
Lil was sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair in the interview room, and I was sitting beside her, hoping to put her at ease.
“Well, not many people,” she said. “Grammy, of course. Bryn. Drew. My agent. My ex-boyfriend, Winn—”
“Ex-boyfriend?” I blurted.
Lil slid a glance my way. “Yes.”
“What about the current boyfriend?”
“There is no current boyfriend.”
“But you said—”
“You made assumptions. I didn’t correct you.” Her eyes widened as if to say, Are you sure you want to question me about my love life in front of the sheriff? “Winn is also my publicist and works closely with me in my business.”
“Anyone else?” the sheriff asked.
“That’s it.”
“What about friends in New York?”
“No. Honestly I didn’t feel the need to tell anyone.”
“You put it on social media?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“What about Coop?” asked Sheriff Daniels. “Did he know?”
“No,” Lil said. “I didn’t even know he was in Paynes Creek, so…”
Ouch.
“She’s right,” I agreed. “I had no idea.”
Sheriff Daniels made a note on his legal pad. “Tell me more about the stalker in New York.”
“It started out with small notes online—a private message on social media, a personal note through my website contact form, those sorts of things. They seemed harmless at first. Like ‘I saw a video of you. You’re so pretty.’ Or ‘I hope to see you at your next signing. Would it be possible to take you to dinner after?’”
“Did anyone ever reveal themselves at a signing?”
“No.”
“I’ve been to one of Lil’s signings,” I said. “Security is shit at those things. If someone had wanted to hurt her, they could easily have done so.”
Lil shifted in her chair. “There shouldn’t be any reason to need security at a children’s book signing.”
“What happened next?” Sheriff Daniels asked. “After the online notes.”
“Then I started getting anonymous letters in the mail, and gifts delivered to my building. Candles, bath salts, lingerie…”
“Some creeper was sending you lingerie?” I said. I couldn’t stop my voice from climbing. “Did you call the police?”
“Oh yes. Sending things to my address was definitely crossing a line. Especially since a note with the lingerie asked me to please post pictures while wearing it.”
I fumed. “What did the police say?”
Lil angled her head toward me. “That New York is a huge city with murders, rapes, and muggings happening every hour. That when someone actually shows up and threatens me, then I should let them know.”
“You’re kidding. They did nothing?”
“Not nothing. They took my statement and started a file. I gave them everything—the gifts, the notes, screenshots of everything I’d gotten online.”
Lil seemed to be taking this all in stride. I guess that was the result of living in New York City, where a little harassment wasn’t a big news story. But I knew shit like this could escalate too quickly. I’d seen what could happen—firsthand.
Sheriff Daniels leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “There’s quite a difference between sending flirty gifts… and throwing animal blood all over your grandmother’s house. Do you have reason to believe these acts are all by the same person?”
Lil shrugged. “I can’t say for certain, but the day before I flew to Paynes Creek, I got a letter from my stalker telling me that I should change my books so that the main characters were a lamb and a wolf instead of a rabbit and a fox. And now I’ve been sent a dead rabbit and a dead fox. Seems to me like that’s a clear connection.”
“When was the last time you spoke with…” Sheriff Daniels looked down at his notes. “Winn?”
“The morning I left. I talked to him on the phone to tell him I was going to Kentucky.”
“Was this a friendly conversation?”
Lil smiled uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I’d received notice that my publisher was dropping my series.” She looked down at her hands. “Winn thought I should stay and take meetings with other publishers who might be interested in picking up the series. When I told him that I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep it going, he got angry. He’s my publicist—he’s partly responsible for the books taking off the way they did. He’s invested.”
I cut in. “When you say, ‘He got angry,’ how exactly did he react?”
Lil’s brows pointed inward as she gave me a hard stare. “He berated me, basically. At one point, he hung up on me. But he immediately called me back and apologized.”
“Is there any reason he would want you to change your animal characters?” I asked.
&nb
sp; “No.”
“Any reason he would paint the word ‘slut’ on your suitcase?”
“If you’re asking if I cheated on Winn, the answer is no. Winn and I disagreed about the direction of our future together. He wanted to get married, I didn’t.” She looked from the sheriff to me and back again. “I assure you both, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Winn is not the person harassing me.”
I felt like someone had taken a knife, stabbed it through my heart, and twisted it forty-five degrees for good measure. Some big-city asshole had tried to marry my Lil? I knew I had no right to be this upset, but I was all the same. And I found myself wondering just how long it had taken her to turn him down.
Sheriff Daniels made another note, then stood and reached a hand out to Lil. “I think we have enough to chew on for now. But listen to me: while you’re in Paynes Creek, your welfare is my responsibility. So I want you to call me or Coop or the station if you see anything out of the ordinary. Got that?”
Lil shook his hand. “I will, Sheriff. Thank you.”
As she left the room, I hung back for a moment to speak to the sheriff alone. “What are you thinking?” I asked.
“I think we’ve got a very short list of people who knew Lil was coming to town.“
I nodded. “I agree, we start there, rule these people out one by one. I also want to head back out to Otis Jett’s, see if any big spenders have come by his place lately looking to purchase rabbits or foxes.”
“That’s a good idea.” The sheriff tapped his pen against his pad, then looked up at me. “Tell me, you know anything about Drew getting all riled up over Barb selling the house?”
“I haven’t heard anything.”
“Don’t go spreading this around, but someone heard Drew mouthing off late last night up at Boone’s Tap House. Seems he’s not all that happy that his grandmother’s selling before he’s had a chance to purchase it himself.”
“I got the impression that Barb offered to sell it to him, but they both agreed that it just wasn’t the best idea for him.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But if that’s not the case… well, suppose the buyer hears that someone has been throwing blood around the house and leaving dead animals everywhere?”
I followed his thinking. “Buyers have walked away from home sales for much less.”
“It’s a stretch, but… I’m just trying to see all the possible angles.”
“I understand. I’ll have a talk with Drew. See what I can find out.”
After leaving the sheriff’s office, I drove Lil out to Barb’s.
“You aren’t saying much,” Lil said beside me.
I shot her a casual grin—or at least, the best I could muster under the circumstances. I didn’t want her to know that my gut was telling me this was way more than some overenthusiastic fan trying to scare her.
“I was thinking about where we’re going to have our second date,” I said.
“You still sticking to the claim that last night was our first?” She returned the smile, though I could tell it took considerable effort.
“If you have some stupid rule that you’re not going to kiss me until the second date, then absolutely.”
“I seem to remember that we’ve already kissed.”
“Good point. Then you can number it however you’d like.”
As I pulled into Barb’s driveway, she was outside throwing some things into the back of a pickup truck.
“Is that Drew’s truck?” I asked.
“Looks like it.”
“Hey, y’all,” Barb said when we got out. Drew came out behind her. “Drew and I are about to take a load of trash to the dump. It’s amazing how much junk an old woman accumulates over the years.”
“You are not old, Grammy,” Lil declared, wrapping an arm around her grandmother.
“How long will you be?” I asked.
Barb gave her granddaughter a kiss, then looked at me. “Twenty minutes. Why?”
A couple of beats passed as I searched for the right way to phrase what I wanted to say.
“He’s scared to leave me alone,” Lil said before I could answer.
“That’s not—”
Lil held up a hand. “It’s okay. It’s fine.” She turned back to Barb. “You two go ahead. I’ll fix Coop a sandwich.”
I smiled. “That’s all I wanted anyway.”
“I’ll make sure we don’t take long,” Drew said. “I need to get back to the job site anyway.”
When they drove off, Lil turned to me. “Do I have to worry about you hovering?”
“Do you have to worry? No. But you’re going to have to understand that until we figure out what’s happening, I plan to be overprotective.”
“Just as long as you don’t mistake what’s happening now for what happened all those years ago.”
The truth was, I couldn’t promise that, since I hadn’t ruled out the idea that the two were connected. How could I, when she was being harassed in the very town where the man who had kidnapped her had frequently been seen?
“Come on,” I said. “We can plan out our date over that sandwich you just promised.”
Nineteen
Coop
I should have gone straight home and taken a long nap. I could really have used some sleep before Lil and I went on our date thanks to a long night of drinking with Luke. But I really wanted to stop by the taxidermist’s farm.
As I drove along the long gravel lane leading to Otis Jett’s house, I had to be careful to miss the potholes formed during the long winter. At the house, two pit bulls and a Great Dane the size of a small horse came flying out of a barn in the back to greet me—or devour me, I wasn’t sure. Only when I saw Otis following behind, ready to stop any canine assault, did I step out of my vehicle.
“Well, if it isn’t the prodigal son,” Otis said. He wore a khaki apron with pockets and a pair of dirty jeans. No shirt. Dark chest hair peeked out above the apron, and his balding head glistened with sweat. “What the fuck you want, man?” His smile revealed a single lower front tooth missing.
Otis Jett and I went all the way back to grade school. Back then he spent most of his time picking fights and, frankly, trying to get expelled. But although we never had much in common, we always got along well enough.
“Hey, Otis. What the hell have you been up to?”
He put his hands on his hips and looked around. “You’re looking at it.” His stomach stuck out like someone who’d drunk way too many beers in the last ten years.
I noticed grass growing tall around several old, rusted pieces of machinery in the yard. He’d mowed, but apparently never followed up with a weed trimmer. A huge brush pile was stacked up to the left of the barn—it appeared that he was planning an enormous bonfire—and beyond that was still more rusted-out equipment and junk, including an old car that didn’t look like it had run since the fifties.
“I was wondering if I could ask you some questions,” I said.
“Sounds serious. Is this part of an official investigation?” Otis was no stranger to the law—he had a record. Mostly misdemeanors, plus one DUI, and he’d seen the inside of a jail cell a time or two. So he was no idiot; he knew to be cautious in his dealings with a police officer.
“Afraid so.”
“You gonna read me my rights?”
“Do I need to?” Why did everything have to be so hard with some people? “Look, we can do this here or down at the station. It’s your choice. But at this time, I’m just looking for information. Hoping you can help me.”
“Look, dude. You can start with telling me what this is all about, but you’ll have to do it in the workshop. I’m behind on a project.”
I followed him into the building I had mistaken for a barn. As we stepped inside, I saw that it was more of a shed-slash-workshop. And not the kind of workshop I was used to. I had to hold back a gasp at the sight of all the dead animals on display. There were heads of deer, elk, and other large animals hanging on the walls, and smal
ler animals—foxes, turkeys, a bobcat—were displayed in their entirety on shelves. I didn’t fail to take note of a rabbit that was quite similar to the one Lil received.
“How’s business?” I asked, taking it all in.
“You in the market?” He smiled, larger this time, further revealing crooked teeth stained with tobacco.
“For a stuffed animal? No.”
“‘Stuffed animals’ are for little kids. This here is art, man. And they’re called mounts.” He chuckled as he tossed things into a garbage can lined with a plastic bag.
‘Art’ is certainly subjective, I thought.
I decided to get right to the point. “Have you sold any ‘mounted’ rabbits recently?”
“Of course. Easter was a few weeks ago.”
“What did you do with all the blood from the rabbits?”
His eyebrows pointed inward. “Why the hell would you ask that?”
“Just answer the question, please.”
“I don’t know. It was months ago when I mounted them. It’s not small-game season now. But usually I just throw it out.”
“Small game—that category would include foxes?”
“Yeah.” He now stood with his arms crossed. “Why don’t you tell me what this is about? Seeing as your questions are kinda fucked up and all. Though based on your questions, you’re sure as shit not after me.”
“Okay, here’s the deal. Someone splashed rabbit blood all over the back of Barb Kaufman’s house. Later, someone sent one of her granddaughters a stuffed rabbit, mounted on wood.” I deliberately left out the detail about the knife stuck in the rabbit’s chest.
“And you think I’d pull some crazy shit like that? That kind of advertising wouldn’t exactly be good for business.”
I looked around his shop again. “Like I said, I’m just looking for information. Have you handled the body of a fox recently?”
“I’d have to check my records, but I can’t recall anyone ordering a fox.”
“This one wasn’t stuffed. It was just drained of its blood. The fox, and the blood, were used to decorate one of Barb’s bedrooms.”
Truth is in the Darkness (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 2) Page 11