by Rachel Lee
“There’s a concern here,” Gage said after waiting a moment. “Why do you two want to know if there are other cases?”
Roger looked at Haley, wondering how much she wanted him to say and how much she wanted to say for herself.
Strain showed around her eyes and she didn’t immediately speak, so he plunged in.
“Gage, maybe you remember hearing about the case in Gillette some twenty-five years ago? A little girl kidnapped out her bedroom window?”
Gage leaned forward, wincing a bit as he did so. He reached for a pencil and began to tap the eraser on his desk. “I heard something about it. That was before I signed on with this department.” Again he looked at Haley. “I didn’t live here until around that time. So I heard only a bit and I was kind of preoccupied with my own problems. So that happened to you?”
She nodded jerkily.
Gage swore quietly. “I am so sorry for you. Sorry that happened. Can I ask details?”
She began to speak hesitantly. “I don’t remember a lot of detail.”
“Hardly surprising, given you must have been traumatized.” Gage waited patiently, allowing Haley to speak as much or little as she wanted.
Presently, she spoke again. “He always wore a ski mask. I think I glimpsed his face only once. I’m not even sure about that now. Anyway, I wasn’t able to describe him in any useful way to the authorities or a sketch artist who tried so hard to drag any little detail out of me.”
“That would be difficult for anyone,” Gage remarked. “Not only a little kid.”
“What I do remember was waking up to find a man standing beside my bed. It was dark, so at first I thought it was my dad. Then he grabbed me, slapped tape over my mouth and pulled me through the open window with him. That sticks in my mind. Then there was a car trunk. I remember that because I could smell the fumes. I was terrified out of my mind. After that, very little... I believe he touched me once or twice, but I can’t say he was a sexual predator. For some reason, I’ve always had the impression that he wanted to try more, but it either didn’t thrill him or he was too scared. It’s all a blur anyway.”
She closed her eyes and the room remained silent except for some voices from the front office. Velma’s, roughened from all her smoking, and possibly a deputy or two.
Haley opened her eyes. “Next thing I remember clearly was standing by a roadside all alone. I didn’t know which way to go, or where I was, or if I was far from home. It was early morning. I was cold. And I just stood there, stunned or lost. I couldn’t tell you. But still very, very frightened.”
“I should think so,” Gage remarked.
She nodded. “Yeah. After a while—it seemed like a century to me—a car came down the road. I started to run. I’d never actually seen his car, and that might have been him coming back for me. I stumbled into a ditch and got caught up in tumbleweed, then I heard this very nice lady say, ‘Are you lost, sweetie?’ She helped me out of the tumbleweed and into her car. I curled up in a tight ball, I was so afraid she was related in some way with my kidnapper. I didn’t unfreeze again until we pulled up to the police station and a female officer came to get me out of the car and carry me inside.”
Roger’s chest had grown so tight with pain for her that he had trouble drawing breath. Her briefer explanations before hadn’t prepared him for this look into the wounded soul of a five-year-old. Sure, he’d known it had terrified her, but something about the image of her standing alongside a road all alone, then running from help because she was so frightened... Yeah, that was vivid and disturbing at a deep level.
Haley had lowered her head as she’d spoken. Now Gage dropped his pencil and leaned back in his chair as if he had taken a blow. Roger felt pretty much the same way. A solid punch to the middle of his chest.
And none of it compared to what Haley must have felt, must be feeling right now.
Gage whispered something, probably a string of curse words he didn’t want to say aloud. Roger had more than a few he’d have liked to use to turn the air blue. Because what could anyone do at this late date except cuss and call the guy who’d taken her all kinds of names?
“Pervert,” Gage said finally. Anger sparked in his eyes.
Roger nodded agreement. “Pervert,” he repeated.
Haley quickly wiped at her eyes. “Sorry,” she said. “I thought I’d gotten past most of it through all the therapy I had afterward. Maybe not.”
“Therapy,” said Gage, “doesn’t erase the scars. It helps us handle them. God knows, I had enough therapy myself after I lost my first family... Okay, thanks for filling me in. And don’t feel bad because the peeper has stirred your memories. He has, hasn’t he?”
Haley nodded.
But ask the important question, Roger urged her silently. Gage had just said there were no other reports. Was she going to walk around feeling as if she had been targeted? Could Gage say anything that would make her feel better? Or safer?
“You didn’t come here to tell me about your kidnapping,” Gage said with certainty.
“No,” Haley answered in a smothered voice. “It occurred to me... Oh, it’s crazy.”
“I hear crazy in this office all the time. Shoot. I won’t think any less of you.”
She managed a wan smile. “If I’m the only one he’s looked in on...what if I was his chosen target?”
Gage rocked, his eyes narrowing, his chair creaking beneath his movements. “Gotta oil this thing,” he said almost absently. “I hadn’t thought about that, Haley.”
“I shouldn’t have, either,” she replied, her voice growing stronger. “It’s been a long time. What’s the likelihood this guy would be in this town, or that I’d even be a threat to him if he is? Zip.”
Gage thought a moment, still rocking back and forth in his chair and occasionally shifting his weight as if his back hurt. “Okay, you want my assessment?”
“Please.”
“Very unlikely the guy who kidnapped you would know you’re here, or that he’d be here. I agree with that. But chance being what it is, I can’t quite agree with zip. However remote, there’s always a chance. But even so, I don’t know why he should be worried even if he’s living right next door to you. It’s been so long, he probably looks nothing like he did back then and, anyway, I imagine he thought he’d gotten off scot-free when no descriptions or artists’ renderings were ever in the media.”
She nodded, relaxing visibly. “You’re right. I’m worrying about nothing. I thought so, but I couldn’t shake it.”
Gage held up a hand. “Not so quick. While I doubt it’s your kidnapper from so long ago, this perv might indeed have his sights on you. It’s strange that we haven’t had other reports, but it’s possible he’s been peeping without being seen. So that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”
“Aw heck, Gage,” Roger said.
Gage gave his crooked smile. “I have to be honest.” Now he leaned forward, once again wincing. “Okay, patrols have been looking out for anyone lurking around at odd hours, but I’ll tell them to pay better attention. Dismount and walk around if need be. Budget crunch means I haven’t got anyone to spare to put on your house—”
Haley quickly interrupted him. “I wouldn’t want that. It’s bad enough like this without thinking I might deprive someone else of police support.” She shifted on the chair and looked to the side. “Okay, I agree it’s likely not my kidnapper. That would be too weird after all this time. But...let me know if anyone else reports this guy. I’d feel better, strange as that sounds.”
“I understand.” Gage nodded. “Yes, I do. But my folks can certainly be more alert. I have to admit, it’s odd not to have a Peeping Tom turn up more than once. And sometimes they fixate on one person, but if they can no longer peek in, they move on to someone else. He may have moved on and his new victim might not have realized he’s looking in on her. But if she becomes aware,
I’ll make sure you hear about it, okay?”
“Thank you. I’d really appreciate that.”
After a little more casual conversation, Roger took her back out onto the street. He was surprised to see that the sky had grayed over. “Maybe we’ll get some rain. It’d be welcome.” Rare at this time of year, but he didn’t know a soul who’d complain. “I suggest we go to Maude’s and get a latte. Sound good?”
“Sounds wonderful.” She actually smiled at him and he felt some of the tension in his chest let go.
Reaching out, he took her hand casually. He liked it when he felt her squeeze back. Man, it had been a long time since holding a woman’s hand had felt so special.
“Maybe a little chocolate of some kind, too,” he suggested. “Always good for the mood.”
“My mood’s improved since talking with the sheriff.” They paused to cross a street. A one-traffic-light town, as it had been during her childhood. Traffic was light enough that they didn’t have to wait long. “What happened to Gage? What he said about his family.”
“Briefly? He used to be an undercover agent with the DEA. Somehow his cover got blown and his family was killed by a car bomb. To look at him, I would guess he wasn’t far away when it happened.”
“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “Oh, my God.”
“When he first arrived here, he looked...well, like murder. Folks called him Hell’s Own Archangel.”
“I can’t imagine. God, the poor man. But he seems to have moved past it?”
“As much as anyone can.” There was nothing else he could say.
The bell over the diner’s door rang as he opened it and waved her to enter first. She always seemed a bit surprised by the courtesy. Maybe she didn’t like it. He’d have to ask when the opportunity provided itself.
Inside they got a table at the window in the sunlight, away from the few people who were diving into their lunches. Maude made her usual stomp-and-demand appearance, wearing a white bibbed apron over her plain green dress.
“Lattes for two,” Roger said. “Hey, Maude?”
“Yeah?”
“What have you got that’s chocolate?”
For the first time in his life, Roger saw Maude smile. It wasn’t much of one, but still recognizable. Was the battle-ax softening with age? Hard to believe.
“You reading my mind or something, Roger McLeod?” It sounded like a demand. “Would you believe I made some chocolate pudding pies this morning? With graham-cracker crust.”
“Oh, my,” said Haley, resting her chin in her hand and looking almost dreamy.
“Sugar-free one, too, for them that’s worried about that stuff. The old sheriff, Nate Tate? He likes his piece of pie but he’s become downright ornery about calories. I’m making all kinds of sugar-free pies now.” She glared at Roger. “As you’d know if you ever ordered pie.”
Roger grinned. “It seems I need to do more of that.”
“You work hard enough you shouldn’t have to be worrying about it,” Maude grumped. “So two pieces, sugar-free?”
Once she had their agreement, she stomped off to make the lattes and get the pie.
Roger leaned across the table and covered Haley’s hand with his. “You feel a little better?”
“I guess so. He’s a nice man, your sheriff. He didn’t make me feel silly.”
“I’d have been astonished if he had. That man’s seen a lot in his time. What’s more, I don’t think you’re silly, either. I wouldn’t have suggested we visit him otherwise.”
She moved her hand, twining her fingers with his. “You know, Roger, over the time I’ve been here, I’ve come to realize how much I missed you over the years. You were second only to Grandma in the reasons I loved to come here to visit.”
He felt warmth flood him all the way to his toes. “I’m no big deal.”
“Just a very nice guy who made my summers more fun. You never treated me like a brat who was in your way.”
He had to grin. “Funny thing about that. I never thought you were in the way. We always had a pretty good time.”
She smiled, and with the easing of her tension since she’d talked to Gage, it was the most relaxed expression he’d seen from her yet.
There was no clatter as Maude set the lattes in front of them. After all these years, Roger was used to the sound of coffee mugs slamming down, but for reasons known only to her, Maude served lattes in big paper cups.
The beverages, however, were followed by two slams as the clear-glass pie plates hit the table. Forks wrapped in napkins followed them.
“Oh, that looks good,” Haley said, looking up at Maude.
“I made it, didn’t I? And by the way, folks are hoping you plan to stay here in town.” With that, Maude stomped away.
“Man,” muttered Roger, “she’s getting to be unpredictable. Is the sky falling?”
A lovely laugh escaped Haley, and Roger gazed into her beautiful blue eyes. Yeah, he’d been missing her for years, too. He just hadn’t realized it.
* * *
Across the street, unseen by either of them, a man paused and stared through the window. He didn’t like what he saw. Not at all. If the two of them were holding hands, it only increased the likelihood that Haley would hang around.
“Well, good afternoon, Mr. Metzger.”
The sound of a woman’s voice startled Edgar into turning sharply. He saw Edith Jasper with her Great Dane, Bailey. “Ms. Jasper,” he answered almost sullenly. Man, he had to watch it before the whole town was talking about him and his sour mood.
“Where is Puddles?” the woman asked pleasantly. “Not sick, I hope.”
“No, no. Just a little cut between her toes. Vet gave me some ointment and said not to take her on long walks for a day or two.”
“What a shame! I hope the little dear is better soon.”
“I hope so, too. She doesn’t like it when I don’t take her on long walks.”
“If I didn’t take Bailey with me, he’d probably dive through a window to follow. He’s big enough to do it, too.”
“I’m glad Puddles isn’t.”
“You have a nice day, Mr. Metzger.”
He watched her stroll away, then shook himself and moved in the other direction. He didn’t want to be caught gawking through the window of Maude’s. Since everybody could just walk in, there was no reason to stare, was there? No, he didn’t want to be remarkable in any way.
But the two had gone to the sheriff. And now they were holding hands.
The combination made him nearly ill. Had he done something to give himself away? No, he couldn’t have. But now with that hand-holding...
Hell, Edgar thought as he stormed away. He had to figure out how to get rid of that woman before much longer. One flicker, one half-formed accusation, and he’d be ruined. Even if they didn’t get enough to send him to jail for life, in this town suspicion could kill you. People talked. A lot.
And now that someone had noticed he was walking around without his dog, it could be seen as unusual. He guessed he couldn’t take Puddles out much for the next couple of days to uphold his lousy story.
Damn, he wasn’t good at this. He ought to know by now. After he went to Alberta, far out of range, in a different country, and had managed to mostly stay out of trouble ever since. Well, except for occasional drunk and disorderly stuff, and a few brawls that were pretty much inevitable among oil rig workers. Tough men, they didn’t take much lying down.
He’d cleaned up his act until Haley McKinsey showed up in his private little hidey-hole. She could cost him everything. Everything.
Yet he still hadn’t figured out a way to deal with her. Or with Roger McLeod, as was becoming clear.
He cussed again, under his breath, and kept stomping his way home. He was afraid and he knew it. Maybe he wasn’t thinking as smartly as he should. Maybe his head w
as as screwed up as when he’d stolen first the money, then the child.
That memory didn’t give him a lot of confidence. And maybe that was what was stalling him, keeping him from devising a plan.
He headed home, determined to clean out mental cobwebs somehow. Either the woman or the saddler. He figured if he wiped out Roger McLeod, Haley McKinsey wouldn’t want to stay in this town, house or no house. Especially since the two were starting to act like lovebirds.
Either way, he had to succeed or lose everything he’d worked for.
Chapter 7
Haley decided to let the sorting and packing go for the afternoon. The day had turned perfect, skipping the earlier promise of rain, and a gentle breeze blew, lightly ruffling her short hair. When she told Roger she wanted to spend some time on the porch swing, he nodded.
“Go for it. You’ve probably breathed enough dust since you got here to give you asthma.”
“Not likely. Flora may have collected but she didn’t let the dirt settle.”
“Wait until autumn when some of the hayfields are turned under. The wind can carry enough dirt to make the sky go dark. Cleaning’s a pain then. But, listen, I need to get back to the shop and take care of a few things. Will you be okay?”
She knew she’d been acting like a scared rabbit since that awful night, but to have him ask if she’d be okay sitting on a porch swing in the bright afternoon sunlight embarrassed her.
“Of course I will,” she said firmly. “This amount of sunlight should be a disinfectant for any creeps around.”
He laughed then hopped in his truck, promising to be back in a couple of hours. “I’ll bring dinner, so don’t cook,” he admonished her.
Well, that sounded nice, even with a chest freezer full of lasagna and goulash and casseroles. She settled on the swing and began pushing it gently with one foot, listening to the familiar creak.
Taking the afternoon off felt like a great idea. She’d been driven since she’d arrived and hadn’t let up even when she’d decided she might well stay. There was still a lot to do, of course, but the pressure to deal with it had lessened.