by Debra Webb
Nick tamped down the response that immediately came to mind. “Which way did she go?” he said instead.
“She jumped into that car of yours and took off toward town.” He frowned. “I figured something was up so I followed her. She drove straight to Doc Holland’s office. Didn’t appear to be nobody there though, but she went on around back like she knowed what she was about. Then I got to thinking that maybe I should come back and get you. Seeing as you’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her and all.”
Nick jerked the door open and climbed in. “Thanks,” he snapped. The fact that the man was right didn’t help Nick’s disposition.
Rutherford pulled back out onto the highway. He cast Nick a conspiratorial wink. “You have to watch those angels, young fella, they got themselves wings. They can fly away before you know they’re gone.”
Nick manufactured a caustic smile. “Thanks, I’ll remember that.” When he caught up with Laura, he fully intended to clip those wings.
In no time at all Mr. Rutherford chugged into the driveway leading to Doc Holland’s place. Nick’s black rental car was parked at an odd angle next to the porch. He opened his door before Rutherford braked to a full stop. Nick slid out and closed the door behind him.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, taking another look at the old man behind the wheel. “And thanks for your help with Laura’s situation,” he added contritely. Hell, the man had done him a favor. Nick should be considerably more grateful.
Carl Rutherford’s expression turned serious. “You just make sure that little girl don’t do no permanent disappearing act.”
Nick nodded and backed up a step as the old truck lurched forward. When Mr. Rutherford had exited the other end of the horseshoe-shaped drive, Nick turned his attention to the house-cum-clinic before him. What the hell was she doing here? Nick shook his head. Looking for more evidence to support her case, he felt sure. Or for the Doc, whichever she could find. Nick frowned. The place was awfully quiet for there to be anyone home—he glanced around the property—and no other vehicles besides his rental car were in the vicinity. Nick trudged slowly toward the house, the wet leaves made little sound beneath his feet as he crossed the tree-lined yard.
Not taking any chances on the possibility of anyone else having followed her, Nick withdrew his weapon. If “Pinkie” showed his ghostly mug, Nick would give him something to remember him by. The thought that the bastard had hurt Laura again and maybe taken her son burned in Nick’s gut.
Nick moved cautiously across the porch to the front door. It was locked. The sign officially proclaiming the doctor’s absence still hung in a nearby window. He obviously hadn’t returned. Surveying the quiet street, Nick moved down the side of the house. A couple of blocks off the small town square and lined by trees and shrubbery, the place was fairly secluded. The back of the house looked much like the front with a wide porch spanning the length of it. The back door stood open. Good. Nick preferred an avenue of access that didn’t require breaking a window. An open door was invitation enough to skirt the boundaries of breaking and entering.
Not that a minor technicality would have kept him from going in, Nick mused. Upon reaching the door, he saw that Laura had beat him to it anyway. One glass pane in the door had been shattered. A handy rock lay on the painted porch floor. Nick swore under his breath. What the hell was she thinking? The police surely patrolled the area. Nick eased inside, scanning left to right as his eyes adjusted to the natural early morning interior light. The large old-fashioned kitchen looked homey and quite empty. Silently, Nick weaved between the massive oak furnishings and made his way to the dimly lit hall.
A sound reached him. He frowned in concentration. Crying. Laura! Hard as it proved, Nick remained absolutely still until he got a fix on the direction of the heartrending weeping. Farther down the hall and to the right. Nick moved soundlessly toward the door he had estimated would lead him to Laura. The soft sound of her tears echoed in the silent house. If anyone had hurt her…
Rage twisting inside him, Nick paused next to the open doorway and listened for any other sound coming from the room. Nothing. Taking a deep breath and firming his grip on his weapon, Nick swung into position in front of the door. He scanned what appeared to be an office for any threat. The place had been tossed. It looked as if a tornado had ripped through it. Maintaining his fire-ready stance, Nick dropped his gaze to the floor where Laura huddled…
…over what was obviously a very dead man.
BLOOD.
Laura stared at her hands. The warm, sticky red stuff oozed between her fingers. She had tried to help Doc but it was too late.
Too late.
Dizziness washed over her, making her want to give in to the darkness that threatened her consciousness. Who would do this to Doc? Laura’s gaze riveted once more to the large kitchen knife protruding from his chest. She swallowed back the bitter bile rising in her throat.
She had done this. Laura moaned a sob. She had come back to Bay Break and brought nothing but pain, loss and death to those she loved most.
Robby…
Doc…
And Nick.
Laura closed her eyes and surrendered to the flood of emotion pressing against the back of her throat. She was responsible for this senseless violence.
“Oh, God,” she murmured as she rocked back and forth. “I killed him. I killed him,” she chanted.
“Laura.”
Slowly, Laura looked up into the stony features of Nick’s grim face. “Doc’s dead,” she told him weakly.
Nick knelt next to her then and checked Doc’s pulse.
“It’s too late,” she whispered. “He’s gone. Robby’s gone, too.” A heart-wrenching sob tore from her lips. Laura slumped in defeat. Too late. Too late. Too late, her mind screamed.
“Come on, Laura, we have to get you out of here.”
Nick was moving her. She could feel his strong arms around her as he lifted her. Laura’s head dropped onto his shoulder.
Doc was dead.
Robby was lost.
And it was all her fault.
Laura’s stomach churned violently. The room spun wildly when Nick settled her back onto her feet near the kitchen sink. Laura moaned a protest when he began washing the blood from her hands. No, no, no, her mind chanted.
“Oh, God.” Laura dropped her head into the sink and vomited violently. The image of Doc’s blood pooling around his dead body was forever imprinted in her memory. The sound of Robby’s cries for mommy rang in her ears.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay,” Nick murmured softly as he held her hair back from her face. He turned on the tap to wash away the pungent bile.
When the urge to heave passed, Laura cupped her hand and cooled her mouth and throat with as much water as she dared drink with her stomach still quivering inside her. She splashed the liquid relief on her face, then swiped the excess moisture away with her hand. Doc was dead.
Nick lifted her onto the counter and inspected her closely, a mixture of fear and concern etched on his face. “You’re not hurt?” He brushed the damp hair back from her face.
Laura shook her head. Nausea threatened at even that simple movement. Doc was dead.
She squeezed her eyes shut to block the horrifying images. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“You have to tell me what happened,” Nick urged gently. “Why did you run away from me?”
She swallowed, then shuddered, more from grief than the bitter taste still clinging to the back of her throat. “I didn’t run away,” she told him. “I thought if I could find my file, that maybe Doc had made some sort of notations regarding Robby. Then James Ed couldn’t pretend my son doesn’t exist.” Laura closed her eyes and suppressed the mental replay of the scene she had found. She opened her eyes to him then. “I want to do this alone, Nick. I don’t want you to help me anymore. It’s not safe. I won’t risk you getting hurt again.”
“There was no one else here when you arrived?” Nic
k seemed to ignore all that she had just said.
Laura shook her head. “Just…just…” She gestured vaguely toward the hall. “Doc,” she finished weakly.
“Laura, I need you to think very carefully. Was the door open when you arrived?”
“I…I broke the glass and unlocked the door,” she told him. Laura allowed her frantic gaze to meet his now unreadable one. Those piercing green eyes bored into hers, searching, analyzing.
“Did you touch anything besides the door?”
“What?”
“Did you touch anything at all, Laura, anything besides the door?” he demanded impatiently.
She thought hard. What did she touch? Nothing…everything, maybe. “I can’t remember.” What was he thinking?
His fingers, like steel bands, curled around her arms, he gave her a little shake. “Listen to me,” he ground out. “The blood hasn’t congealed yet. Do you know what that means?”
Laura’s stomach roiled at the mental picture Nick’s words evoked. “I don’t want to hear this….” She tried to escape his firm hold. “Just let me go, Nick.”
“Dammit, Laura,” he growled. “Whoever killed Doc hasn’t been gone long. Doc was out of town, remember? He probably arrived back in town and surprised someone in his office. Think! Think about what you saw first when you came inside. What did you hear?”
Laura concentrated hard. She heard…silence. Her gaze connected to Nick’s. “Nothing. There was silence.” She swallowed. “But I could smell the blood.” A sob snatched at Laura’s flimsy hold on composure. “The moment I walked in I could smell it.”
Nick swore under his breath. “You’re sure,” he repeated slowly, “that you didn’t touch anything.”
“I don’t think so.” Laura let go a shaky breath. “But I can’t be sure. I was…I was hysterical.” A kind of numbness had set in now, Laura realized. She didn’t really feel anything at all, just tired. So very tired.
“Don’t move,” Nick instructed harshly.
Laura nodded. She clamped her hand over her mouth and fought the urge to scream. She felt her eyes go round with remembered horror. Doc was dead. Robby was lost. Oh, God. Oh, God. She had to do something.
But what?
Minutes or hours passed before Nick came back. Laura couldn’t be sure which. He swiped the faucet and the area around the sink with a hand towel. Laura frowned. What was he doing?
“Can you stand?” he asked, his expression closed.
“Yes,” she murmured.
Nick lifted her off the counter and settled Laura on her feet. “Don’t move, don’t touch anything,” he ordered.
Laura blinked, confused. Nick swiped the counter, then ushered her toward the back door. Once they were on the porch, he gave the doorknob, the door, and its surrounding casing the same treatment. Still too dazed to marshal the strength to question his actions, Laura watched as he threw the rock she had used to break the glass deep into the woods at the back of the yard. She tried to think what all this meant, but her mind kept going back to the image of Doc lying dead on the floor. Laura shuddered and forced the images away.
Nick took her hand and led her back to the car. He pitched the towel he had used into the back seat. As if she were as fragile as glass, he settled Laura into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. Laura watched him move to the other side of the car and slide behind the wheel. Memories of their lovemaking suddenly filled her, warmed her. Laura closed her eyes and savored the remembered heat of Nick’s skin against hers. His lips on her body, his kiss. The last time they had made love Robby had been conceived.
And now he was lost. Laura’s heart shuddered in her chest. Her baby. She had to find her baby.
“Nick, we have to find my baby,” she urged. Laura shifted in the seat. “Don’t you see. They’re erasing every trace of my baby’s existence.” She shook her head. “It’s as if he has disappeared into thin air. Never existed.”
Nick cast her an understanding look as he pulled the car out onto the street. “I’m calling Ian when we get back to the house.” He glanced back at her then. “I’m making arrangements to take you some place safe. Too much I don’t understand is going on around here. I’m not taking any chances.”
Fear rolled over Laura in suffocating waves. “No! I can’t leave without Robby.”
“The point is not negotiable.”
Laura caught a glimpse of Vine Street as Nick crossed town. Desperation like she had never known before slammed into Laura. She had left Robby with Mrs. Leeton. She had to know where he was. She wasn’t the fragile old woman she pretended to be. She knew. She had to know.
“Take me to Mrs. Leeton’s house.” The quiet force in those few words surprised even Laura. She had to go back.
Nick cast a glance in her direction. “All right,” he agreed without hesitation and to her complete surprise.
Laura closed her eyes and prayed that Mrs. Leeton would tell the truth…and that it wouldn’t be too late.
NICK BANGED on the door again, louder this time. The old woman would have to be deaf not to hear him. Laura stood next to him, impatiently shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“She’s not going to answer because she knows you’re on to her now,” Laura insisted.
He glanced at his watch. “Give her a minute. It’s early and she’s old. Maybe she’s still in bed.”
Laura huffed a breath and crossed her arms over her chest.
Nick released a long, slow breath of his own. I killed him. I killed him, kept echoing in his brain. He passed a weary hand over his face. She couldn’t have, of course. But someone had intended to make it look as though she had. Her file had been lying right next to the Doc’s body, the contents missing.
Nick shook his head at his own stupidity. In his irrational desire to protect Laura, he had tampered with evidence by wiping down the place, including any prints the real killer might have left behind. He was a bigger fool than even he had imagined.
“She isn’t coming to the door,” Laura prodded.
Nick cut her a look. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his all-purpose key. Laura watched in silent amazement as he quickly and efficiently “unlocked” the door.
Laura rushed past him before he could step aside. Nick surveyed the quiet parlor while Laura rushed from one room to the next calling the old woman’s name.
Mrs. Leeton was history.
Nick scanned the parlor.
She had either gotten out of Dodge or she was pushing up daisies somewhere like the Doc. Laura rushed back into the room.
“She’s not here,” she said wearily.
Nick picked up a picture frame and studied the smiling couple inside. “She’s gone.”
“But her things are still here,” Laura argued. “Her clothes, her pictures.” She gestured to the frame in his hand.
Nick turned the silver frame so that Laura could see it. “Lovely couple,” he noted. “But they came with the frame.”
Laura frowned, then quickly scanned the two frames hanging on the far wall. “Why would she take the pictures and leave the frames hanging?”
Nick placed the frame back on the table. “She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s gone.” He crossed the room, stared out the window at nothing in particular, then looked back to Laura. “Can you tell if any of her clothes are gone?”
Laura shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. There are clothes in the closets and in the dresser drawers, but I can’t be sure if they’re all there.”
“I’ll bet they’re not,” he assured her. “Where’s the kitchen?”
Laura led him to the small immaculate kitchen. The woman was definitely obsessive-compulsive about house-cleaning, he noted. He glanced at the shiny tile floors and sparkling white countertops. Nick walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. He leaned down and peered inside for a moment or two.
“She’s been gone at least three days,” he said when he had straightened and closed the door.
“How do you
know that?”
“The milk expired day before yesterday,” he explained. Nick nodded toward the calendar hanging from a magnet on the appliance door.
Laura stepped closer to see what had caught Nick’s eyes. Mrs. Leeton had meticulously marked off each day until day before yesterday. “Oh, God,” she murmured.
Laura swayed. Nick caught her. “Come on, Laura, there’s nothing else we can do here.”
Nick locked the door and led Laura to the car. He watched her for signs of shock or panic. She had seen too much today. He didn’t see how she could tolerate much more defeat. It was a miracle she hadn’t fallen completely apart.
Once they were back at the house, Nick would insist that Laura lie down. Then he would call Ian and set up a new location to take Laura. Things were definitely getting too hot around here. One way or another, he intended to get to the bottom of this mess. But first he had to make sure Laura was safe. It wouldn’t be long before Dr. Holland’s body was discovered. Time was running out for Laura’s freedom. If James Ed suspected Laura was in any way involved with Doc’s murder, he would insist that she be sent away now.
Maybe, Nick decided, he would tilt the odds in their favor. A quick call to his old friend Ray would set things in motion.
NICK PULLED the afghan over Laura. He hoped she would sleep for a while. She had been so despondent over the Doc’s death that Nick had been worried out of his mind. Shortly after finally lying down, she had fallen asleep on the couch and Nick was immensely thankful. He didn’t think he could bear one more moment of her self-deprecation. She blamed herself for Doc’s death. If she hadn’t come back here, she kept saying. But her baby had been sick. With no insurance and no money, she hadn’t known who else to turn to. Now Doc was dead.
Nick blew out a breath. He wished he could find one single shred of real proof that Laura did, in fact, have a child. The stretch marks indicated a pregnancy, but proved nothing as to her having had a live birth. He had to have solid evidence.
Shaking his head in disgust, Nick walked to the kitchen and numbly went through the motions of brewing coffee. Hell, he hadn’t even had a cup of coffee today. He glanced at the clock on the wall, two o’clock. He had a feeling that this was going to be one hell of a long day. He had busied himself earlier with cleaning up the water in the bathroom, but now he felt that old restless feeling. They were getting closer to the truth now. He could feel it.