Pride of a Hunter

by Sylvie Kurtz

  “I understand her husband was killed on duty.”

  “Tough way to lose a loved one.”

  Swanson sprayed the pan on the grill with nonstick spray. “Jill has a generosity of spirit that sparkles, considering how her husband left her. I admire her resiliency.”

  “Looks like these women get their strength from their family ties. There’s a lot of love between all these people. Makes a man want to settle down.” Using a taste of his beer as cover, Dom pivoted his body to eyeball his target. I’m not going to let your evil tear apart this family. “Have you tried it before?”

  “What?” Swanson speared a salmon steak with a long-handled fork and placed it on the grill where it sizzled and smoked.

  “Marriage.”

  Swanson’s eyes shifted to construct mode, down and right—a lie was coming. About what Dom had expected, along with the jerkiness of movement as Swanson plunked another steak on the grill.

  “Never found the right person. Takes someone special. You? You tried it?”

  “Yeah, once.” Dom had tried to go through the motions after Luci pushed him away. Tammy had wanted marriage, and he’d liked her well enough to give it a shot. But a year into it, he’d realized that he craved the physical closeness, and every time he closed his eyes, it was Luci he took into his arms. Tammy deserved better than that. Fortunately, she’d agreed and they’d parted ways amicably. “I really miss having someone waiting at home.”

  “What happened?”

  “The mostly nights and weekends of work didn’t go over too well when she worked days. And when I couldn’t give her kids.” He shrugged. An outright lie, but he wanted to get Swanson’s take on Jill’s son.

  “Yeah, I know how that goes.”

  Interesting that he’d skipped right over the kid. “That Jeff, he’s a pistol.”

  Swanson switched to a spatula and concentrated on getting the salmon steaks just right on the grill. His eyes flinched as if someone had pinched him. The recovery was quick, but a touch of sadness lingered. Was Luci right? Was the kid the smoking gun? If, so, then how? And how could he possibly trace back this man’s childhood when he couldn’t make a proper identification?

  “I understand you’re a private investigator,” Dom tried again. “Regular hours probably don’t work too well there, either.”

  “Most of my cases are locates for insurance companies and lawyers. It’s mostly computer work, so I set my own hours.”

  “That’s what I’m aiming for, too. Setting my own hours.” They both sipped their beers. “Hey, I’ve just hired on with Holliday & Houghlin. Are they one of your clients?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, if you’re looking for more work, I’ll pass your name on. Do you have a card?”

  Swanson placed the spatula on the small granite counter on the side of the grill, pulled a wallet out of his back pocket and handed him a card. Rich vanilla with raised embossing in brown. Quality, heavy feel to it. Snappy, old-time design. Gate City Investigative Services, Inc. Generic enough. Swanson couldn’t help wanting to get noticed, but didn’t want to make too much of a splash.

  “How long have you been doing this kind of work?” Dom asked, slipping the card into his back pocket.

  “About ten years.”

  “After you retired?”

  Swanson frowned at him. “Retired?”

  Dom nodded toward the honking diamond on Swanson’s right hand. Bought on eBay? “I see that Super Bowl ring on your finger. Who’d you play for?”

  “The 49ers.”

  “Great team. Their last Super Bowl win was one of the most exciting games I’ve seen. Three plays and less than two minutes into the game and they’d already scored. What position d’you play?”

  “Special teams.”

  Figured he’d pick that. Most special teams players could play ten years in the NFL in virtual anonymity. “What was your specialty?”

  “Covered punts and kickoffs.”

  Why didn’t that surprise Dom? Swanson was plain telling him he was aggressive, fast and reckless in his pursuit. A warning that he didn’t care what happened to Jill? That he’d get what he wanted no matter who came after him? Kick him down, he’ll just get back up again? “What’s your last name again?”

  “Swanson.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember you. They called you Suicide Swanson.” Convenient that the real Swanson—Brent, not Warren—had died not long after that Super Bowl win.

  Swanson’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You know your football.”

  “Played three years for Texas A&M,” Dom said. “Running back.” Right back at you. I’m just as tough and determined as you are. “You had a pretty good record at stopping the return man inside his own twenty-yard line.”

  Swanson shifted his stance. “What happened to the fourth?”

  “Fourth what?”

  “Year.”

  “Tore both medial collateral ligaments and had to have three operations on my knees.”

  “Ouch. Still bother you?”

  Couldn’t have made the Hostage Rescue Team if it did. I’ll get you, don’t you worry your rotten little head about that. “Right as rain.”

  The boys came charging out the deck door. Brendan kicked at a soccer ball. Jeff tripped over the toe of his shoe and accidentally clipped Swanson’s elbow as he tried to catch himself, sending the salmon steak Swanson was flipping flying off the monster grill.

  His congenial face slid and was replaced with a mask of rage that slit his eyes and trembled through his jaw. But he regained control so fast, Dom had to wonder if he’d actually seen what he thought he’d seen.

  “Hey, slow down, Jeffery,” Swanson said, all warm and friendly again.

  “Sorry.” Jeff backed away from the grill, index finger pushing his glasses back up his nose.

  “Just be more careful next time.”

  “Okay.” Jeff nodded, seemingly frozen to the spot.

  Time to let Swanson think he’d gotten one over on the redneck. Dom hadn’t gotten much out of him, but he really hadn’t expected to this early in the game. Good old Warren probably hadn’t counted on all this family bonding time.

  “Come on, sport,” Dom said, ambling onto the lawn. “Let’s see if we can get that soccer ball away from Brendan.”

  Jeff’s nose wrinkled and he stifled a smile with one hand. “Brendan’s good.”

  “Okay, then, two on one. You and me against Brendan.”

  Jeff laughed and tugged at Dom’s hand. “This way.”

  Dom glanced over his shoulder, at Luci staring at him, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Her bone-deep weariness echoed in his own body. He hadn’t been sleeping well either, lately. August did that to him, as he suspected it did to her. Cole charging into action one minute, dead the next. Both their lives ripped apart, the ghost of Cole still there between them, haunting.

  “I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT to make.” Jill stood up as dinner mercifully drew at an end. The boys had left long ago and were playing in Jeff’s room.

  Luci tensed. This couldn’t be good.

  Jill held up her glass of wine. Her face flushed with happiness and her smile glittered more brilliantly than Warren’s pseudo-diamond at her neck.

  Luci’s heart sank and her hands gripped the tablecloth tail under the table. Oh, no, Jilly, you didn’t.

  “I’m engaged! Warren asked me to marry him.” Jill looked like a kid on Christmas day as she stuck out her left hand and displayed the emerald-and-diamond square-cut engagement ring that had not been on her finger five minutes ago.

  A shocked silence froze everyone at the table. Warren was moving fast. Way too fast. Luci caught Dom’s attention and tried to read his thoughts, but he played his part right. As if nothing were wrong and tension weren’t as jagged as ice, he got up, raised his glass and toasted the couple. “Congratulations, you two. When’s the big date?”

  Jill hooked her fiancé’s arm with one of her own and beamed up at him. Her ring caught the chandel
ier light and seemed to mock everyone at the table. “Two weeks from today.”

  Luci’s dinner twisted itself in her stomach. Two weeks. Jill’s birthday. Jill was still a kid when it came to birthdays. She needed cake and candles and wanted presents and balloons. Warren was going to not only steal her inheritance, but her joy, too. Luci couldn’t let that happen.

  Congratulate her. Play the part until you can prove Warren’s rotten core. Luci fumbled for her glass and stood. Dom’s hand flattened against the small of her back and steadied her. The words worked themselves up Luci’s throat with false enthusiasm as she pinned on a smile. “Congratulations. When did Warren pop the question?”

  Jill looked up at Warren, completely blinded by love. “A couple of days ago. He was so romantic. He got down on one knee right in the middle of the restaurant and said the most beautiful things.” Tears of joy slid down her face. Luci prayed she could save Jill before they turned to tears of sorrow.

  “Jillian, how could you?” Barbara wrung her napkin in her lap. “We can’t get the country club on such short notice. Why the hurry?”

  Jill’s smile fell, then rebounded. “It’s just going to be a small wedding. I thought we could have it here. We’re in love. We don’t want to wait. There’s no reason”

  Barbara threw her napkin onto the table. “No, that simply won’t do.”

  Neil, ever the peacemaker, chimed in. “We’ll work it out, poppet. Don’t you worry. The important thing is Jill’s happiness.”

  “Do you have any family, Warren?” Barbara asked. Luci could imagine the dozens of lists drawing themselves up in her mother’s mind.

  “No, ma’am,” Warren said, and for a second he looked as young and besotted as Jill. He deserved an Emmy, if not an Oscar, for his performance. “I’m on my own.”

  “Then we’ll have to take care of the rehearsal dinner, too.” Barbara gestured at her husband. “Neil, get me my purse.” She tapped a burgundy-polished fingernail against the tablecloth in Warren’s directions. “How about friends? I’ll need a list. Invitations have to go out on Monday.”

  For once, Luci was grateful for her mother’s hyper organizational skills. Barbara would ask all the questions Luci longed to ask. In no time flat, her mother would have a list of Warren’s business associates and friends. Luci would check out every name on Warren’s list.

  “We just want something small and intimate, Mom. Just you and Dad and Luci and Brendan.”

  “Surely Warren will want to invite at least some close friends,” Luci said, salivating at the potential clues on her mother’s list. “You’re going to be part of our family, Warren. We’d like to meet the people who are important to you.”

  Warren skewered her gaze. Was that a shard of ice in his eyes? But his genial smile never faltered. “Jill and Jeff and our lives together are important to me. If she wants a small and intimate wedding, then that’s what I want, too.”

  Jill wrinkled her nose and her eyes sparkled. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

  Fortunately, her mother didn’t do small and intimate.

  “That simply won’t do,” Barbara said. “Oh, Jillian, there’s too much to do to pull off a proper wedding in two weeks.”

  Neil returned and handed Barbara her purse. “Thank you, darling.” She dug out a small notebook and a pen. “What about a church?”

  “We were planning on a justice of the peace.”

  “I’ll see if Father Tim is free.”

  “That’s a beautiful ring, Jill,” Dom said. His hand stiffened at Luci’s back and telegraphed a hum of anxiety. What was wrong? Something about the ring? “The emerald’s green suits your eyes.”

  “That’s what Warren says, too.” Jill leaned her head against Warren’s shoulder and looked up at him in complete adoration. “My ring belonged to his mother. Isn’t that so sweet?”

  Luci’s heart ached for her sister. She wasn’t going to let him walk her sister up the aisle, then stomp on her heart while he hightailed it to his next victim. She’d stop him before it got that far. A trap, that’s what they had to do, set a trap. She’d have to think of something. Fast. Two weeks, that’s all she had to save Jill.

  Luci grasped Dom’s hand, wanting desperately to ask him about the new tension thrumming beneath his easy smile since Jill had shown off her ring. With a squeeze of his fingers, he acknowledged her worry. Then he reached for the bottle of wine and refilled glasses all around. “A toast to the happy couple. May happiness follow them to the end of their days.”

  Luci lifted her glass. May we stop this scam artist before he causes irreparable damage.

  Using her goats as an excuse to have to get home, Luci cut the evening short. As she and Dom followed Brendan to the van, she grabbed Dom’s arm and whispered, “What’s bothering you?”

  “The ring.” His voice was a low growl that reverberated with portent. “It belonged to Laynie McDaniels, his last victim.”

  WARREN WAS GLAD to get rid of the last of the unwanted guests. Keeping up appearances was getting harder with each sinner. Maybe it was time to hang it up and enjoy the spoils of his hunts. Jill’s million-dollar payday would complement the rest of her portfolio rather well, thank you. He could take some time off, winter in the Caribbean or wind his way through Europe. He deserved a vacation. Christmas in Vienna sounded good. Or maybe he’d finally make his dream of sailing around the world come true. There was no way he could get to all the sinners in his lifetime, anyway.

  Jill deposited the last of the wine glasses on the counter. “It went well, don’t you think?”

  “Splendidly, sweetheart.” He sank a glass into the hot suds in the sink and sponged away the red stain at the bottom. Wiping away the stain on Jill’s soul would take more than a sinkful of dishwater.

  Jill fussed with the leftover rice pilaf. “Luci’s worried that you want me just for my money.”

  “Your sister seems to carry a rather large chip on her shoulder. Don’t listen to her. I’d love you even if you didn’t have a penny.”

  “That’s what I told her.”

  Warren swallowed his glee at having found such an easy mark. “You saw her tonight, sweetheart. Between her and your mother, you’ll be pulling your hair out by the end of the week. I think we should just go ahead and do things the way we’d planned. Sweet and simple.”

  Jill gave a mirthless chuckle. “You don’t know my mother.”

  The mother he could handle. She was just a manipulative old bat and he could make her come around to seeing his way. The sister, that was something else. She’d looked at him as if he were the devil himself.

  If she only knew.

  Not the devil, but a savior. He would show Jill the error of her ways. He would save her from her selfish goals. The same way he’d shown the other spoiled bitches. And if she was too stupid to learn, she’d suffer Laynie’s fate. At least Laynie’s melodramatic personality had given him the perfect alibi. Everyone, even the police, had believed she’d hanged herself.

  “Your mother is a sweetheart and wants to share in your happiness,” Warren said. He placed the last glass on the dish drain, dried his hands and wrapped them around Jill’s waist. “Your sister, on the other hand, is simply jealous of your good fortune.”

  Jill frowned and fingered the edge of his collar as if it were a security blanket. Her complete trust heightened his lust.

  “I don’t think she’s jealous,” Jill said, her voice wa vering with uncertainty. “Luci isn’t like that. She’s just afraid I’ll get hurt.”

  He had to use Jill’s uncertainty to gain what he wanted, a separation between the sisters. The less Luci could influence Jill, the better for him. “I guess you feel frustrated by Luci’s smothering.”

  “She means well.” Jill snuggled against his chest.

  “I know your ex-husband hurt you, but I’m not like him.” He patted her back, encouraging her dependency. “But you have me now. I’ll be a good role model for Jeff. I can take care of all those details a wonderfully alive woman
like you shouldn’t have to worry about. That squeaky garage door’ll be gone by tomorrow. Then I’ll talk to the club and see what they can do about fitting us in for a small, intimate ceremony. That should please your mother.”

  Jill peppered his cheek with kisses. “Oh, Warren, how did I get along without you?”

  “Hey, that’s what makes me such a great private detective, taking care of details. And I know what it’s like to be on your own.”

  She leaned back, the gleam in her eyes bringing out the green flecks in the brown irises. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, my heart.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I don’t want to see you frown before the wedding. It’s a happy time for both of us. Maybe you should give Luci some space until after the ceremony. She’ll come around when she sees how happy you are.”

  Jill’s lips curled in, the beginning of a pout. “Maybe you’re right, but it’s going to be hard. I wanted her to be my maid of honor.”

  He jostled Jill’s hips, his body reacting to her wel coming curves. “Why not ask another friend, one who’s as happy as you are, to support you on your special day? How about Amber? She seems nice.”

  “You’re right. I deserve to have someone who’s happy standing by my side.”

  “Looks much better in the photos.”

  “I wish Luci could see how good you are for me.”

  She does, you silly bitch. That’s why she’s so dangerous. “The sooner we’re married, the sooner our happiness starts.” He nuzzled Jill’s neck, then pulled her toward the bedroom. Sex would keep her distracted until the ink was dry on their marriage certificate.

  Chapter Six

  The goats were milked and chewing contently on hay in their pen. The chickens were bedded down in their coop. Brendan was bathed, tucked in bed and asleep. Luci had stretched the busywork as far as she could and the clock showed it was nearly midnight.