Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She GoesA Promise for the BabyThat Summer at the Shore
Page 16
“Do not move,” she ordered. How quick could she grab her phone? Maybe not quick enough. “Did you call in the bomb threat?”
“I just wanted to get you alone,” he mumbled. “And you...you hurt me.”
“Now you know what it feels like.” Her vision was still strange, sharpened and almost but not quite distorted at the edges. “Is there a bomb?”
“No! I wouldn’t do that.”
“But you made the call.”
He made a blubbery noise of acquiescence, blood and snot pooling beneath his face. Ick, she thought dispassionately; he was making a mess on the shiny wood floor.
She turned and walked away, going into her bedroom for her phone, left in her messenger bag. She had it in her hand when she heard the click of the front door closing. Cait went back to the living room and looked out to see him scuttling across the yard, bent over.
She almost stepped out on the porch to remind him that she’d better never see him again, but really, why bother?
The sense of release made her light-headed until a sick rolling in her stomach wiped out any triumph.
Someone else is trying to kill me.
Blake, she thought, had been all about threats and impulse and temper. Whoever had pulled the trigger out on Bond Road that day had been entirely cool—and therefore far more dangerous.
She scrolled for Colin’s last message and touched Send.
“Cait?” he answered. There were urgent male voices in the background.
“There’s no bomb,” she told him.
* * *
SHE’D TAKEN CARE of him? What did that mean?
Noah drove with his grip so tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles ached.
He had barely arrived at the library, already in the midst of an orderly evacuation made disturbing by the frightened faces and the children with their piercing voices saying things like, “Mommy? You said we could check out books. Why can’t we stay? Why are the policemen here?”
He’d gotten out of his SUV and was staring, thinking, My town is going to hell in a handbasket, and I don’t even know why. And then he saw McAllister, who had also obviously just arrived. As he got out of his SUV, he was talking on his phone; then he put it away and spoke intensely to his officers. From halfway across the parking lot, he spotted Noah. Leaving off whatever he was saying, he strode toward Noah. The people he’d been talking to all gaped at his back, as if he’d walked away midspeech.
“Chandler,” he said, “Cait just called. She says there’s no bomb. It was that son of a bitch Ralston. He wanted to get her alone.”
Fear crested and broke in Noah like some killer wave. His whole body went rigid. “He’s got her?”
“She says she took care of him. She sounded...calm.”
“Calm.”
“Told me to do what I had to do, not to worry.”
Somehow he kept from repeating dumbly, Not to worry? “Where is she?” he managed instead.
“Still at the house.” His jaw tightened. “She says.”
He pulled his car keys from his pocket. “I’ll go.”
“I can send a unit.”
“If he’s hurt her, I’ll kill him.”
No caution to remember the law. Instead, “You’ll call me?” her brother asked.
Noah nodded and was gone.
A five-minute drive took two. Plus side, he didn’t have to worry about getting a ticket; he knew where every cop in town was. The tires squealed on pavement when he turned into McAllister’s driveway. Hearing that, he made himself lift his foot from the pedal so he didn’t skid on the gravel.
No other vehicle was in sight. Lights were on in the house. He leaped out and ran for the porch, taking the stairs two at a time. Then he hammered on the door.
“Cait!” he bellowed.
When she opened the door, he almost fell in.
“Noah?”
Despite her bemused expression, he snatched her into his arms. He could hear his own heartbeat, and his lungs were working like old-fashioned bellows. He swore, viciously, nonstop. All he could think was, She’s all right. Not hurt. Nothing like he’d imagined had happened.
Her arms had locked around him, and he realized she was soothing him by stroking his back. Finally he was able to groan and loosen his hold on her.
“Where is he?”
Her lip curled. “He took off.”
His heartbeat was starting to slow. “What happened?”
“Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“I want,” he said from between clenched teeth, “for you to tell me what happened.”
She blinked. “Blake used the phone call to the library as a diversion. He came, and I kicked his ass.” She sounded so satisfied, Noah’s relief turned into a choked laugh.
“Okay. Now I’ll take the coffee.”
Watching her sashay into the kitchen, her butt swinging, he shook his head and took out his phone.
It rang once.
“She’s fine,” he told Colin. “Ralston is gone. She says she kicked his ass.”
Silence.
“I haven’t gotten the details yet, but she’s unscathed and she sounds pretty pleased with herself.”
Her brother uttered an obscenity. “Ask her if she knows where his car was.”
Noah relayed question and then answer. “No. Says he scuttled away—her words—into the woods to the north.”
“People that own it are never there. He could have parked in their driveway.” Voices were talking to him, and Colin had apparently muffled the phone. After a minute he came back. “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Okay.” Noah was the bemused one now, going into the kitchen, where Cait leaned against the counter edge.
“What’d he say?”
He told her.
“What a mess. I suppose they’ll have to search the library anyway.”
“Probably.” He shook his head. “I assume someone will be waiting for Ralston at his campsite.”
“Which he doesn’t know has been found.” Her eyes sharpened on him. “How did you know it was found?”
All Noah did was cock an eyebrow.
Cait made a face at him. “I can’t believe my brother is reporting to you. You know he wouldn’t if he knew.”
“That I’m doing his sister?”
“Doing?” She sounded outraged.
“I can think of cruder ways to put it.” He grinned at her. He felt euphoric. She was all right! Not hurt! Damn. “You know, your brother is smart enough to suspect.”
“He thinks he’s hardly taken his eyes off me.”
“He knows we’ve spent a couple of evenings together.”
She was silent for a moment. “He might have a suspicion.”
“Suspicious is his middle name.”
Not denying it, Cait sighed and turned to get mugs out of the cupboard.
Noah didn’t want coffee and conversation; he wanted her. “Where’s Nell?” he asked.
“Work.” She saw his expression and backed away. “No way! Nell will be home in less than an hour, and who knows about Colin?”
“Come home with me for the night.” Voice gravelly, he caught her by the upper arms, squeezing gently.
“Oh, God.” Cait leaned into him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“You’re an adult,” he said with sudden frustration. “Big girls can have sleepovers.”
She straightened, and he saw her resolve. “Colin would flip. He’s going to want to hear every detail. And...I want to know when they’ve arrested Blake.”
A part of him knew she was right. The timing stank. But reason didn’t quell his desperate need for her. Ridiculous, when he hadn’t ev
en known she was in danger until it was over. This wasn’t like last time, when he’d seen her car with the door standing open and the bullet holes and believed for a world-altering moment that she was dead.
“Let me hold you for a minute,” he whispered, and she melted against him, her arms wrapping him, too.
He was still aroused, but it helped, just feeling her, full body contact, the rise and fall of breath, the tickle of her hair. He consoled himself with the thought that at least she’d be able to go back to her town house now. Not that they wanted their relationship to be public knowledge, but at least it wouldn’t be so teenage with her having to sneak away from her stern guardian’s eye. He could park unobtrusively in the alley....
“No.”
He pulled back a little. “What?”
“You said at least I can go home tomorrow.” She lifted a face to him that was drawn, even haunted. “I can’t.”
His muscles went into lockdown. “Why not?”
“Noah, it wasn’t Blake. He had no idea what I was talking about.”
“You asked him about the shooting.”
Her head bobbed.
“You believe him.”
“I wish I didn’t,” she said miserably.
Noah swore and pulled her close again. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “I’ll stay until Colin gets home.”
He almost missed the tiny sniffle. But not the whispered, “Thank you.”
* * *
COLIN PERSONALLY GRILLED that bastard two ways from Sunday and became reluctantly convinced that Cait was right—he was telling the truth. He’d been stalking Cait, but he hadn’t tried to gun her down in cold blood.
The bomb threat had been the most stupid-ass thing he could have done. Unfortunately, the most they could do was charge him with first-degree disorderly conduct, a misdemeanor that with luck would earn him a year in jail. For terrorizing Cait, Colin wanted to throw away the key.
But the flood of fear he felt had nothing to do with Blake Ralston. Colin left the interview room and Cait’s former boyfriend slumped behind the table, eyes vacant as he groped toward a realization of how badly he’d screwed up his life.
Colin had known Noah was standing on the other side of the one-way glass, but he hadn’t tried to deny him the right to hear what Ralston had to say. He didn’t like thinking Cait was getting involved with Chandler—but he wouldn’t have stopped it if he could. Not now. Chandler would do anything to protect her, and that made two of them instead of only one.
He was surprised to find that the mayor wasn’t alone. Lieutenant Jane Vahalik had joined him.
“Captain,” Vahalik said, some urgency underlying her tone.
God help them, what now? He raised his eyebrows.
She glanced at Noah, then back at Colin, her hesitation obvious. He gave a brief nod of permission that had Noah’s eyes narrowing.
“You know the rounds that killed Hegland were nine millimeter.”
He tensed.
“Ballistics report says the same gun was used in the attack on your sister.”
“What?” burst out of Noah. Colin was frozen silent.
“I didn’t say it made sense,” Jane said. “But given the way Hegland was killed, it’s not good news.”
Gut churning, Colin remembered Cait’s description of the SUV sitting on the road, the silence. If her subconscious hadn’t kicked in, she’d be dead. Maybe sun had glinted off the barrel as it was raised. Maybe something else. The enemy was faceless, deliberate. Colin couldn’t believe they’d ever kidded themselves that Ralston was the gunman.
His eyes met Noah’s, and he saw an echo of his fear.
“I’ll need to interview her again,” Vahalik said. “Is she in her office this afternoon? Do you know?”
“She’s there,” Noah said, voice sounding raw.
“In the meantime, do you know if she’s been involved in anything to do with the airport?”
Noah shook his head. “I’m almost positive she hasn’t.”
Colin squeezed the back of his neck. “She knew Hegland.”
Now they both stared at him. “How?” Jane asked.
“He was...a friend of our mother’s. Cait ran into him briefly her first week in town. They chatted for about one minute. She mentioned it to me. As far as I know, she hadn’t seen him or heard from him again.”
Noah watched him. How he knew there was more to the story, Colin had no idea, but at least he kept his mouth shut.
There wasn’t a good reason to keep their mother’s transgressions secret, but he wanted to think about this before he told anyone. Talk to Cait about it. He couldn’t imagine what an illicit affair that had been broken off damn near twenty years ago could possibly have to do with murder now. It made no sense.
“We need to find out where she was when Hegland was killed. She might have seen something without knowing she did.”
“She was living with me.”
“But surely not home every evening.”
He shook his head numbly. “No. Damn. She’ll be able to tell you when she looks at her calendar.”
“I’ll head over there now, then.” She glanced through the glass at Blake Ralston, who stared down at the tabletop as if the fake wood grain held the answers to his own craziness. “Idiot,” she muttered, and left.
Noah waited until the door closed behind her. “You going to tell me what this is about?”
Colin could play dumb. “What? Ralston?”
“Hegland.”
He shook his head. “Ask Cait. It’s—” Family? His mother was a stranger to him. “Private,” he settled on. “And can’t have anything to do with someone trying to kill her now. For God’s sake, she was ten years old the last time she saw the man!”
“I will ask.” Noah, too, glanced again at Ralston. “Speaking of, you didn’t ask what he’s so goddamn sorry for.”
“You have no idea how much I wanted to.” Then he gave a sort of laugh. “What am I saying? Of course you do. But you know I have to stay out of it if we go after him for stalking. Cait’s my sister. I can talk to him about making a false threat. Beyond that, I’d have to step back.”
Noah surprised him by nodding his acceptance.
“Anyway, I wasn’t sure Cait would ever forgive me,” he admitted. “She’s feeling vulnerable enough right now—”
“Feeling? She is vulnerable,” Noah grumbled.
Colin continued doggedly. “She’s entitled to some privacy.”
A moment of silence as the other man conducted an inner battle. He rubbed a hand over his jaw in what Colin had learned was a characteristic gesture, as if he thought he could physically wipe expression from his face. “You’re right,” he said abruptly. “Okay. I’m going back to city hall. I’ll look in on Cait.”
“Thank you.” Two words that almost stuck in his throat but had to be said.
A smile flickered on that ugly face, and Mayor Chandler departed, leaving Colin looking through the glass at Mr. I Really Am Sorry Now.
* * *
CAIT HAD MET Lieutenant Vahalik in passing. She was surprised to have her appear in her office.
Jane Vahalik didn’t meet Cait’s perception of how a woman in law enforcement ought to look, which she knew perfectly well was stereotypical. Colin had said that the lieutenant was thirty-four and unmarried. She was shorter than Cait, maybe five foot five or six, and curvaceous. She must wear at least a C-cup bra, which had to be a major inconvenience, both given the physical requirements of her job and the perception of the men she worked with and the ones she arrested. She was one of those women who could be described as quietly pretty—hazel eyes, curly reddish-brown hair, round, gentle face. Subtle makeup or none, Cait couldn’t tell.
And I’m trying to distract myself, she realized, fightin
g the fear that she didn’t want to know why the lieutenant was there, in her office.
“Blake didn’t...get away or something, did he?” she asked.
“Mr. Ralston?” She looked surprised. “We’re not usually that careless. No, Captain McAllister just finished interviewing him.”
“Did he learn anything?”
“You’ll have to ask him. I only saw the tail end.”
Cait nodded. “Please. Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
She listened in shock as the lieutenant explained to her how they could tell bullets had been fired by the same gun, and how Jerry Hegland’s killer was also the individual who had attempted to murder her.
“But...why?” she managed to beg.
“That’s what we have to figure out. The captain said you’d run into Mr. Hegland when you first arrived in Angel Butte.”
She gave her head a dazed shake. “Yes. It was...really nothing. Nell and I had lunch together. We were leaving and I literally bumped into him. I recognized him—he recognized me. We exchanged a few words, but he was supposed to meet someone, and that was that.”
Jane Vahalik’s expression had gotten more intent. “Did you see who was he meeting?”
It had been so long since that day, Cait could only shake her head. “I didn’t even look. I was too taken aback to see Jerry.”
“Why do you say ‘taken aback’?”
“Frankly, I wouldn’t have expected to recognize anyone,” she explained. “You know I haven’t been back in Angel Butte at all, don’t you? Colin and I got together wherever I lived. Kids don’t pay that much attention to adults, and after twenty years? Maybe a teacher. Even my friends from back then would have changed so much.”
The lieutenant leaned forward. “Then why is it that you recognized Mr. Hegland right away?”
Cait hesitated. “I don’t know how comfortable Colin would be with me telling you this.”
“Whatever the connection is between you and Mr. Hegland, we have to find it,” the other woman said gently.
“Yes, but this—” Oh, what difference did it make? If her mother lived there in town and had a reputation to protect, it might be different, but as it was, her secret wasn’t that important, not to anyone. Not even me, she realized in surprise. Sixteen-year-old Cait had cared a whole lot, but now? Maybe after her own relationship with Blake, she’d gained some perspective. Who was she to sit in judgment of Mom?