Shroud of Fog: (A Cape Trouble Romantic Suspense Novel)

by Johnson, Janice Kay

  How many women had died at Benjamin Billington’s hands? It was worse, now that she knew exactly how it happened. How each of those women had felt.

  Run, Sophie. Run. There’s nothing better than a good chase.

  And then the high-pitched, excited way he’d called her name as he pursued her through the fog.

  Another shiver rattled her.

  “Damn,” Daniel said roughly. He tugged the thin blanket up to swaddle her. “Is this all they’ve got?” he said in frustration. “You’re freezing.”

  “No.” She freed her hand from the cocoon to lay it over his. “I’m not that cold. It’s thinking about him.”

  “Don’t.”

  “I need to. Otherwise, I just wonder.”

  Showing reluctant understanding, he sat on the edge of the bed, his hip pressing hers, his gaze never leaving his face. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is he really married?”

  “Yeah. His wife is in shock.”

  “How could she not know?”

  Daniel shook his head. “Hard to imagine, but it’s not uncommon for a really organized serial killer to present a fairly normal façade. They can be married, hold a job or own a business, have friends or at least friendly acquaintances.”

  “Be a nice, quiet neighbor who takes good care of his yard,” she said softly.

  “Yeah.” He picked up the wet ice pack from where she’d set it next to her on the bed and stretched his arm to deposit it on a metal, rolling table. “You said the doctor’s done with you. Can we go home?”

  “I’m just waiting for a prescription—” At the sound of the door, she peeked around him.

  In no time, she was ready to go, all the belongings she had arrived with in a drawstring-closed plastic bag. Aghast, Sophie remembered her messenger bag and laptop, but Daniel assured her both were locked in the trunk of his car. What’s more, since she’d left her keys in the ignition, he’d had her Prius driven to his house, too.

  “The laptop is what really matters,” she told him. “I do have a flashdrive, so I wouldn’t have had to quite start over, but I haven’t backed up my work in days.”

  Daniel gave a short, astonished laugh. “Nothing stops you. You’re a stubborn woman, aren’t you?”

  She tried to make a face at him, then made an involuntary sound at the jab of pain. “You’re just noticing?”

  His smile was astonishingly tender. “No, it’s come to my attention before. Here.” He helped her slide off the bed, supporting her weight until she sat in the wheelchair an orderly had rolled into the room. Her friendly nurse draped the white cotton blanket loosely around her, Daniel carried her crutches and the bag with her clothes, and they were able to leave.

  Of course it had become night while she was at the hospital, but she was somehow startled anyway. Stranger yet, the fog was gone, leaving a clear, velvet black sky with the stars bright overhead.

  When Daniel said ‘home’, he meant his house, not her rental cottage. Would he want her to stay here until she finished work on the auction, or would he hint she return to the cottage?

  Would there be an auction?

  “He still owns the resort,” she blurted, as Daniel pulled into his garage.

  He turned off the engine and looked at her. “It might get complicated,” he conceded.

  “He’ll need money to defend himself. And…and he’s lost the motivation to take less. If he wanted the land preserved because that’s where he buried the women.”

  “I think that’s a given.” Daniel sounded grim. “We’ll start searching tomorrow.”

  “While I was trying to bury myself in the dunes, I thought—”

  “That’s where they were?” He shook his head. “Winter storms wash waves up that high, you know that. Probably re-shape the dunes. My guess is the edge of the woods. We’ll bring in ground-penetrating radar.”

  “Would any resort still want to build there?”

  “I can’t imagine. Not in the foreseeable future, anyway. I suspect, if you can raise a decent amount of money, you’ll be able to buy the land. Given the fact that the property is tied to his crime, if he’s convicted I doubt he’ll be allowed to make decisions regarding it. I can’t promise, but…”

  She nodded, thinking about it. How could the forest and dunes and falling-down cabins across Mist River not be haunted? She couldn’t imagine resort hotels going up there, a parking lot being paved atop ground that had once been the site of burials. No. Let nature take back what was hers and heal it.

  Sophie lifted her chin. “There’ll be an auction. We’ll raise that money. I swear we will.”

  One side of Daniel’s mouth tilted up. She’d never seen his eyes so blue as now, when they searched her face. “You’re really something, Sophie Thomsen,” he murmured. “And I want to kiss you, but it would hurt you if I did, so let’s go in and get you comfortable.”

  Realizing how many aches and pains she had, Sophie said simply, “Please.”

  *****

  Letting an aide car take Sophie away while he remained at the scene had been one of the hardest things Daniel had ever done.

  By that time, other cops, city and county, swarmed the resort, but it was his arrest, his jurisdiction. He’d seen for himself that Sophie’s injuries were relatively minor, although he had a bad feeling it was going to be a long time before he was really convinced. The hour or two after he found out she’d been abducted had been hell on earth, as far as he was concerned.

  And now she was talking about going ahead with the auction in a way that struck him as brisk and no-nonsense. It was enough to bemuse him. He couldn’t decide if she really was that strong and determined, or whether she was practicing avoidance.

  Maybe a combination.

  If she didn’t have nightmares tonight, he’d be astonished. One good thing - since she’d be in his bed, he would know if she had them and be there to hold her.

  Sometime in the last week, a whole lot of what he’d thought he knew about himself and his future had shifted. He wasn’t even surprised. The first time he set eyes on Sophie Thomsen, he’d felt something unfamiliar and suspected she could endanger his certainties. Turned out he’d never been so right in his life.

  What he wished he knew was whether her wariness with him had evolved into emotions anywhere close to this powerful and important.

  “Can you eat?” he asked, once he’d helped her change to her own pajamas and had her settled on the sofa, cuddled under an afghan.

  “Eating is going to hurt, isn’t it? But I have to admit I’m starved,” she admitted.

  “Soup it is.” He bent and kissed the top of her head. “You can drink it.”

  He left her watching a mindless sitcom, but when he returned with a tray, she used the remote to turn the TV off.

  “Oh, that smells good,” she said eagerly, sitting up and laboriously shifting her foot to the floor.

  He set up a pair of folding wooden TV trays he’d almost forgotten he had in a closet, and they ate side by side. She drank two mugs of the cream of tomato soup and savored a bowl of blueberry cheesecake ice cream. Her occasional hum of pleasure strained his self-control. She made the same sound in bed. To hell with the ice cream, he thought, but knew he wouldn’t be doing anything but holding her tonight, and maybe for several nights to come. Aside from her ankle and the original blow to her cheek, hard enough to knock her out, she’d bumped her head and severely bruised her shoulder when Billington dumped her out of the back of his Durango. Then there were all those other scrapes and bruises from crashing through the woods. She didn’t need his hands all over her. It was too bad he’d never wanted so desperately to put them on a woman as he did now.

  “You’re quiet,” she said suddenly, and he turned his head to see that she was watching him.

  “It’s been a hell of a day.”

  “There was the bank robbery, too,” she remembered.

  He had trouble believing that had happened today. It was on the other side of a Grand Canyon
– before he’d almost lost Sophie.

  “I fired an officer this morning, too.”

  She encouraged him, and he told her about it, then more about the bank robbery. “We were lucky to skate out of it with no one hurt. The idiot with the gun was nineteen and strung out. He and a buddy were camping on the beach a couple of miles south when he got this great idea. The buddy was hung over and not so enthusiastic, so our guy set off on his own figuring, hey, small town bank, they’ll hand over a bag of money no problem, only next thing he knew a law enforcement officer was walking in, right in the middle of the stick-up.”

  “I was scared,” she said quietly. “For you, I mean. I knew if it looked like he was going to hurt the hostages, you might have to go in.”

  He set his TV tray aside and reached for her. She came into his arms with a rush, as if she’d wanted the contact as much as he did.

  Face buried in her hair, he said, “I had no idea it was possible to be so scared.” His voice was raw.

  “You saved me.”

  He had to swallow a huge lump in his throat. “You did your part. We were stuck in a stand-off until you let him have it.”

  Her arms gripped him so tightly, he knew she was remembering the terror, but there was also satisfaction in her voice when she said, “He loosened his hand just enough. And then— I don’t know what he was doing, but he twisted a little and that gave me enough room to use my elbow.”

  “He was reaching for his gun,” Daniel said flatly.

  “Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “I guess I saw that, after. It’s all kind of mixed up in my mind.”

  “With what happened to your mother?”

  “A little.” Tension seemed to shimmer through her body, and he sensed she was thinking. “Fog has given me the willies for years. Ever since.” Her arms loosened and she sat back enough to tilt her face up. “You know.”

  He nodded. Bruises and swelling and all, she was beautiful to him. His gaze drank in that porcelain fine skin and her green eyes with enough gold to make him think of sunshine through leafy branches.

  “He might not have been able to grab me if it weren’t for the fog.” Her eyes were slightly unfocused as she pursued her thought. “I had to drive really slow, and suddenly he was just there, in front of me. If it had been clear, I’d have seen him blocking the road and used my phone, or done a U-turn and gone back, or something.”

  “He’d been waiting his chance for a while.” Daniel’s jaw clenched. “We assume he’s responsible for the call that held Slawinski up at the facility.”

  “Oh. I wondered why he wasn’t there.”

  He told her what happened and she nodded.

  “The thing is, once I was able to break away from him and run, the fog was my salvation. It was frightening not being able to see ahead or behind, but I knew he couldn’t see me either.”

  Daniel didn’t know what to say. What she was looking for. Maybe she was only processing.

  She gave herself a little shake. “And then you were there, right when I needed you.”

  “Because you screamed.”

  Her expression was grave as her eyes searched his. “I thought I was alone.”

  So much could have gone wrong that would have left her truly alone. The awareness was going to torture him for a long time.

  “Sophie.” He let her go and saw her surprise. “This has been really fast. I didn’t know you...what? Two weeks ago?”

  “It doesn’t seem possible,” she whispered.

  For a man who’d never laid himself on the line like this, never been sure he wanted to, this wasn’t easy to say. He drew in a deep breath and said it fast. “I’m in love with you.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, then she launched herself at him again. His arms closed automatically around her.

  “I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance,” he said roughly. “I’ve promised them two years here, but I can drive over to see you on my days off, and then look for a new job.” Something else that was hard to say. “If you want me, Sophie.”

  She lifted a tear-drenched face to him. “This isn’t just because of today? Because you felt responsible for keeping me safe and because you were afraid for me?”

  With his thumbs he gently rubbed the tears from below her eyes, then kissed more away. “No. God. It’s been coming on since I set eyes on you. I wanted to make a move on you, but I didn’t dare. You were going to be in town too long. I knew even then that I’d go down for the count if we were involved for more than a weekend.”

  She sniffled and finally retreated to mop her face and blow her nose. Now her good eye was a little puffy, too, and her nose was pink. He waited, discovering there were different kinds of fear.

  “Why didn’t you want to get involved?”

  Until her, Daniel couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked about his feelings. He moved his shoulders in discomfort, but made himself say what he’d figured out long ago. “It was losing Dad the way I did. Maybe I was at a vulnerable age. I don’t know. Or it might have been Mom, mourning him as if she intended to spend the rest of her life alone because he was gone. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have an unhappy childhood, but…” He hesitated.

  “You decided the risk of loss was too high.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah. Love hurt. That’s what I grew up believing.”

  “Do you still think that?”

  Man. He wanted to be pacing instead of sitting here with her gaze slicing deep to the unprotected places inside him.

  “I know it can,” he said carefully. “I had another lesson in that today.” He looked a challenge at her. “You can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes filled with sorrow. “I…I think my parents’ marriage wasn’t very good before Mom died. I suppose…well, that I’ve been running scared, too.” She winced. “Don’t ever let me say that again.”

  He caught her hands in his. “Say what?”

  “He told me to run. He wanted me to run.”

  “God, Sophie.” His fingers tightened and he felt how slender her hands were. How fragile, compared to his. Her personality sometimes let him forget how fine-boned she was, how much smaller and more vulnerable.

  “The thing is,” her eyes met his, “I felt the same about you as soon as we met. Only I told myself I didn’t want to get involved with anyone who had ties to Cape Trouble. Both because it wasn’t practical, and because…” She paused.

  “Your memories of Cape Trouble were too painful.”

  “Yes.” Fresh tears welled in her eyes, making the greeny-gold shimmer. “I fell in love with you, too. And…and if you mean it…”

  He groaned and snatched her back into his arms, wanting to kiss her but instead pressing his mouth to her forehead. “I mean it. I’ll do anything I have to do to be with you.”

  Her lips touched his cheek awkwardly, but his heart cramped in his chest. The sensation was unexpectedly painful and yet pleasurable, too. He’d let himself see only the part of love that hurt, he realized at that moment. But there was the good side, too. The possibility of a lifetime spent with one person, these astonishing emotions only enriched by the years and by small troubles, shared decisions, passion and quiet times. All an adventure for someone like him who’d grown up essentially alone.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  And she whispered back, “I love you. Oh, Daniel. I wish…”

  Shit. His own cheeks were wet now. He used his shirtsleeve to wipe them. “You wish?”

  “I wasn’t such a mess!” she wailed. “I want you!”

  He began to laugh, all the tension wrought by the day leaving him, his body flooded by joy.

  “We have all the time in the world,” he said, and believed.

  *****

  “You know what’s at stake here,” the auctioneer told the crowd of elegantly dressed people seated at round tables in a ballroom at Portland’s Governor Hotel. Having worked with him before, Sophie had requested him from the auction company.
Along with being silver-haired, he was silver-tongued, and had had the crowd mesmerized from the beginning of the live auction as he prowled with his microphone, a spotlight following him.

  Elias Burton’s painting of the dunes and ocean had sold for an astonishing twenty-seven thousand dollars, for example, after the auctioneer had introduced the artist, who had attended with his mother, then cajoled three competing bidders, playing them against each other.

  Sophie already knew the silent auction had gone well. Once dinner was served and the live auction part of the evening began, volunteers had quietly begun packing the already-sold items back into bubble wrap and boxes to be picked up at the end. Express pay runners were even now delivering envelopes to bidders at their table, letting them know which items they’d won and giving them any gift certificates they’d purchased.

  She sat at a table in the back so that she was available to cashiers or volunteers if there were problems. Naomi had excused herself from attending, but Hannah sat at the same table, as did Elaine Terwilliger and several other auction committee members.

  Beside Sophie was Daniel, relaxed and handsome in a black suit, blue shirt and charcoal and blue striped tie. They were between dinner courses right now. When the auctioneer began the fund-a-need – the straight-out begging for monetary donations – Daniel had taken her hand beneath the table.

  She held on tight as she heard people giving beyond her wildest dreams. A couple pointed out to her as wealthy philanthropists especially interested in environmental causes started it out with a donation of fifty thousand dollars. Several people gave at the twenty-five thousand dollar level. Dazzled, she watched the bid cards raise when the auctioneer suggested ten thousand.

  Her lips moved and she realized Daniel had leaned toward her.

  “What?” he murmured.

  She squeezed his hand. “I wish Doreen could be here.”

  “Yeah.” He kissed her cheek then nuzzled just a little. “Maybe she knows.”

  Her smile trembled. “Maybe.”

  It was awful to think the publicity centering around a serial killer and his victims had helped contribute to the success of the evening, but she knew it had. She tried to convince herself that something had come of those deaths but knew the reward wasn’t worth the cost.