“And you need prescription-strength pills to knock them out?” he asked, his brow furrowing in his disapproval.
“Matthew, I’m not asking for your permission to take a prescription. So drop it.”
That must’ve been the clue for everyone to clear out, for Dillon made a show of checking his watch. “I say it’s time we call it a night. We’re spinning our wheels at this point. We’ll come back tomorrow with fresh eyes. What say you?” He looked to Kara for agreement but he didn’t exactly find it. She wasn’t ready to stop. But one look at the weary and red-rimmed eyes of her team made her scale back the sharp retort that would’ve followed and she simply nodded. “All right then,” Dillon said, gathering his notes as Tana, D’Marcus and Zane did the same. He looked to Kara. “Bright and early?”
“Is there any other way?” Kara asked with a fatigued smile, which he returned.
“Nope. Bright and early it is.”
They all filed out of the room, Kara carrying an armful of case files to take back to her room, while Matthew carried another armful for her. They walked in silence until they reached her room.
She opened the door and flipped the light before depositing her files on the small table, directing Matthew to do the same. Her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and sheer fatigue was beginning to make her thoughts slow. Matthew leaned casually against the door frame.
“Why the pills, Kara?”
“Why do you have a soft spot for Bernie Poff?”
A tiny smile tugged at his lips but he didn’t answer. Stubborn man. Finally, she sighed. “I get tension headaches and regular-strength Tylenol doesn’t do the trick any longer. So I take prescription-strength ibuprofen. You can stop looking at me like I’m some kind of closet drug addict.” She crossed her arms across her chest and gestured. “Your turn.”
Instead of answering, he moved toward her and slowly closed the door. Her heart rate kicked up a beat but she kept her face neutral, even mildly amused, at his actions. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“There are better ways to take care of a headache,” he said, his tone deceptively mild, yet it sent a riot of goose bumps cascading down her back. In her mind she retorted with all sorts of witty comebacks but her mouth never actually moved. In fact, she’d become rather mute at the moment as the moisture left her mouth and fled south, slicking her with heat in seconds. She gave a mild shake of her head. Matthew smiled, slow and wicked, and then just as she was sure he was going to bend down and kiss her, he spun her around and slipped a chair under her butt.
“What are you doing?” she asked again, this time stunned and a little disappointed.
“Helping with your headache,” he answered as his hands, big and sure, heavy and firm, started kneading the flesh between her shoulders. “The best way to get rid of a tension headache is to get rid of the tension, right?”
She gasped as he hit a tender spot. The pain mingled with the intense pleasure and she could barely get the words out as she answered between moans. “Yeah, I guess so. Oh, yeah, right there. Ummm.” Her head lolled forward and he went to the column of her neck, gently massaging the tight, tense muscles cording her spinal column. Then he moved to the base of her skull and as he palmed her head with firm pressure, she nearly melted into a boneless heap. “When did you learn how to do this?” she asked when she could speak again.
He continued to lightly massage her shoulders again and if she’d been able she might have started to purr. She sensed him shrug as he answered. “One of Mari’s talents other than singing was massage. She called it her backup plan. She taught me a few tricks of the trade.”
“Way to go, Mari,” Kara said dreamily, not caring in the least that another woman had instructed Matthew’s hands. She just didn’t want him to stop. “She sounds like a peach of a woman,” she added.
“She had her good points,” he agreed mildly, moving to her lower back, causing her to lean forward to give him better access. She heard him suck in a sharp breath as her jeans gaped a little and her cheeks actually colored. She’d forgotten about the low-rise waistband and the fact that she’d gone commando this morning. Not because she particularly liked going without underwear—frankly, she found that it made everything chafe—but she’d been in a hurry that morning and hadn’t wanted to waste time rummaging through her bags to find her chones. She straightened slowly and looked back at him with embarrassment as she stood. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to flash you or anything,” she said.
His blue eyes channeled a coastal storm, deepening as stark need sparkled from the depths to drown her. “I don’t recall complaining,” he said, his voice soft and dangerous as he slowly stalked toward her.
“What are we doing, Matthew?” she asked, licking her lips, moving with him to the bed. Even as she shook her head, she was anticipating his lips on hers. “This isn’t a good idea,” she tried reminding him, yet desperately hoped he’d ignore her attempt at reason.
“I’m obligated to continue,” he said huskily, nuzzling her neck until her knees buckled from beneath her and she tumbled to the bed.
“Excuse me?” she asked, shaking the cobwebs from her brain. “What do you mean? Obligated?”
He cocked his head at her with a short grin that was alternately adorable and damn sexy, and answered, “It’s the second part of a surefire headache killer. The best part.”
He stripped her of her shirt and soon after her bra, then sucked her nipple straight into his hot, hungry mouth. “I like this remedy,” she gasped, arching against him to give him everything, offering her body as if he was a god and she was his sacrifice. She shuddered as he lavished attention on the other side, squeezing the flesh firmly, teasing the pebbled tip until she was drenched with desire and mindless with pleasure. “So much better than…than…pills.”
“I told you,” he murmured, nipping lightly at the puckered tips. “You should learn to trust me.”
She groaned and threaded her fingers through his thick hair. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He stripped and soon she had him in her hand, gripped tight and firm, the warm skin sliding like silk against her palm, and she wanted to taste him, to know him in every way. She took him into her mouth and his deep-throated, guttural moan sent tendrils of wanton need spiraling through her as she sucked, licked and tenderly caressed the thick, heavy sac. She worked him until a fine sheen of sweat coated his skin and his hands curled in the bedsheets. She knew he was close and a part of her wanted to push him over that edge but he didn’t let her. With a growl, he pulled her to him and planted a searing kiss on her mouth before pushing her down to the bed and spreading her to his hot gaze. She twisted, not liking how vulnerable she felt, but his grip clamped on her thighs and wouldn’t let her move. The loss of control made her buck to get loose but he roughly pulled her to him and buried his face into her hot, slick folds. He emulated the sexual dominance she’d exerted only moments before until the tables were turned and she was panting with every tongue thrust and wicked little tease against her clitoris. He took her to the brink then refused her, alternating the pressure and the tempo until she was practically begging—begging, damn it!—for that sweet, soul-shattering release.
Just when she thought she’d die from the exquisite torture, he flipped her over and covered her body with his own, cupping her shoulders with his forearms and sliding into her body with one hard, shudder-inducing thrust that sizzled every nerve ending and made her gasp with undisguised wanton pleasure. He whispered into her ear as he pumped into her, burying himself deeper so he hit that elusive, blood-engorged spot, causing stars to burst in her head as waves of pleasure rocked her body for an orgasm that seemed to go on forever. Dimly, from far off, she heard Matthew yell his release as he collapsed against her and they remained that way for a long moment until their heartbeats calmed and the sweat dried.
Finally, he moved and they faced each other on their sides. She was afraid to say anything for fear of ruining the fragile moment between them, so she remained sil
ent. Perhaps he felt the same for he merely watched her from behind hooded eyes. A man shouldn’t have such beautiful eyes, she thought. They were the eyes of a poet, someone who saw the world in brilliant hues and subtle shades. Funny, how she’d never really seen him in that way before. Neal had always been the dreamer, not Matthew. It made her wonder in what other ways she might have been blind. If only she had the guts to find out. That scared, silly part of her was in control again, and she made sure she kept her mouth shut until the coast was clear. Instead of asking something useful, she opted for conversational.
“You never answered my question,” she said softly.
“Which question?”
“The one about Bernie.”
“Ahh.” He sighed and rolled onto his back and she followed, settling comfortably into the crook of his arm. “Well, I guess you could say he saved my life.”
She raised her head to stare at him. “How’s that?”
“It was right after Mari and I split up. I was doing a lot of hiking back then to clear my head and I slipped and fell down a steep ravine, one a lot like Wolf’s Tooth, and it just happened to be on the fringe of Bernie’s property. Broke my ankle pretty bad. Bernie hauled me up out of that ravine and drove me to town so they could airlift me to Garberville. If he hadn’t come along…I’d probably have died down there.”
She shuddered at the thought but said, “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t be a killer just because he succumbed to a moment of kindness.”
“He could’ve split as soon as he left me at the helicopter pad but he drove all the way to Garberville to make sure I was all right. He didn’t have to do that.”
“Maybe he was worried you were going to sue because you were injured on his property,” Kara suggested. Matthew immediately disagreed.
“I don’t buy that. He cares about people, he just doesn’t want anyone to know it.”
Kara digested the new information and shrugged. “Okay, maybe your instincts are correct but we still have to question him. The evidence demands it.”
“I know,” he acknowledged grimly. “Just do me a favor…don’t judge the man before you hear the facts.”
She started to protest but she was suddenly too tired to put up a front. She was so eager to find Briana and whoever was behind this nightmare she was ready to crucify the first suspect in her line of sight. “I’ll let the evidence point the way,” she said, knowing that was the best she could give at the moment. But she added with brutal honesty, “Just remember, if he’s guilty…I’m going to nail him to the wall.”
Matthew’s voice hardened. “Kara, if he’s guilty, I’m going to do worse than that.”
Chapter 14
Early next morning, Matthew zipped his wool coat and walked up to Bernal Poff’s front door. Kara followed a heartbeat behind, her gaze roaming the area for anything that might seem out of the ordinary.
Aside from the usual sounds of a redwood forest, it was devoid of human presence.
“Maybe he’s at the mine,” Kara suggested, glancing around. “Is it close by?”
“Not really. It’s a pretty good hike from here.”
“Well, let’s hit it then. I’m wearing my hiking boots.”
Matthew nodded. “Let’s head out. I don’t want to get caught outside when the next storm hits,” he said, glancing at the sky. “I say we have about two hours before the skies crack open and we’re soaked.”
Kara agreed. “I think you’re about right. Lead the way.”
They trudged east, deep into the mountain, winding their way down a narrow, barely there trail and concentrated on keeping their footing. Soon, Kara was breathing hard, in spite of being in pretty good shape. But, she realized, running on the treadmill was nothing in comparison to scaling uneven terrain, wearing heavy boots, a pack and a wool jacket.
Matthew glanced back at her, his skin ruddy from the brisk air and asked if she was all right.
“My lungs and thigh muscles are screaming but I’m not about to collapse. Don’t worry, I can keep up.”
He gave her a smile and she actually felt herself returning it, but that smile quickly faded as they came into view of the gaping maw stuck in the hillside that she surmised was Wilkin’s Mine. “Looks like something out of a Stephen King novel,” she said, shuddering. “Creepy. You couldn’t pay me to spend time down there recreationally.”
“Yeah, it’s not pretty but Bernie feels at home here. Stay put a minute. I don’t want you to lose a foot or something in one of his booby traps.”
Ugh. She was pretty attached to the idea of her limbs and appendages staying right where they were. “Good thinking.”
“Bernie…it’s Matthew Beauchamp.” Matthew cupped his hands and hollered down into the cavernous opening. “If you’re down there, I need to talk with you. It’s important.”
Silence met his request and Kara shifted with impatience. A fine layer of mist had started to settle from the top of the mountain like a thick foggy shawl that draped the trees until they disappeared beneath it. That mournful feeling returned, the same one she’d felt when they’d returned to Wolf’s Tooth to look for missing evidence. Shoving her gloved hands into her jacket, she tucked her chin into the collar and pushed the irrational thoughts out of her mind—they were giving her the heebie-jeebies. Lack of sleep was catching up to her. She turned away from Matthew to look the way they’d come and nearly swallowed her own tongue at what she saw—or thought she saw—for within a heartbeat it was gone.
A child. Tattered and bruised. Dead. Staring at her. Beseeching her with mournful eyes to help her, though help was clearly beyond Kara’s capabilities.
Shaking so hard she could’ve sworn her knees were knocking, she didn’t realize Matthew was behind her until he was at her side.
She jumped. “Don’t do that!”
“Don’t do what?” He frowned. “What’s wrong? You’re as white as a ghost.”
“Why’d you say ghost?” she queried sharply, knowing she was sounding like a lunatic, but that was okay because, frankly, she might truly be one. First she was sensing things that weren’t there in her motel room, then hearing voices that weren’t there and now…seeing dead kids that clearly weren’t there. Shit. She was losing her mind. Great timing. “We should go,” she said, unable to hide the quiver in her voice.
Matthew gripped her shoulders and peered into her eyes, searching for an answer that she wouldn’t give him. Couldn’t, actually because hell, she didn’t know what was going on, either. “What scared you? Did you see something? Or someone? Kara…what’s going on?”
Her eyes watered before she could stop them. She wanted to tell him so that he could give her a rational explanation and she could stop worrying about some kind of early-onset dementia crowding in but she couldn’t get her mouth to say it. “I…I’m not comfortable here. What if there are wild animals? I think we should leave and come back later. With backup.”
Matthew seemed dissatisfied with her answer but didn’t press. “It looks like he’s not here so I guess it wouldn’t hurt to leave and come back. I don’t really want to wait out the storm on this mountain, either. Let’s head out. Watch your step,” he instructed sternly, taking the lead.
It was hard not to cling to him as they passed the spot where the girl had been standing. Resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut just in case whatever she saw decided to make a second appearance, she forced herself to stay wide-eyed and alert.
In spite of her best efforts, her gaze was drawn to the spot. Something caught her eye. Only this time, it wasn’t otherwordly. It was very real. “Matthew, wait,” she called out, causing Matthew to turn.
“What’s the matter?”
She pulled a plastic evidence bag from her small pack and slid on a pair of gloves. A twisted strand of rope—hemp by the looks of it—lay almost hidden in the bracken, nearly lost on the forest floor. Her heart thundered in her chest. “Does this look out of place here?” she asked, her voice shaking.
He looked grim
but hopeful. “Yeah…it does. How soon can we get DNA results from the lab?”
“How fast can you drive?”
Matthew drove like the devil was on their heels. He spared a glance at Kara who still hadn’t lost the sickly pallor leaching the color from her cheeks. Something had spooked her out there. Something she didn’t want to admit.
“How’d you know that rope was there? It was barely visible. We obviously walked right past it the first time.”
“Luck,” she answered with a swallow and a shrug that couldn’t have been more fake. “Sometimes you get a break.”
“Bullshit, Kara.” He’d called her bluff and she shot him a dark look. “Just spit it out. What’s got you so freaked out?”
“Matthew, what difference does it make how I saw it? What matters is that I found it, right?”
“I suppose.”
She heaved a short, restrained breath and returned to staring out the window.
Dissatisfied and on edge, Matthew returned his attention to the road. The woman was impossible. But she had a point. If not luck, then what would have caused her to go to that very spot and find that damn piece of rope? His mind was blank. Kara was probably right. The how of it didn’t really matter as long as it got them closer to finding Briana—in time.
Briana’s captor had exchanged the gag in her mouth for a blindfold across her eyes so all she could see were shafts of light at the edge of the cloth and her own feet. Cold, runny oatmeal was shoveled into her mouth so hard that the spoon cut into her tender gums but she didn’t cry out in pain. Briana quickly learned that her captor enjoyed when she cried, so she made a point to hold back her tears and silence her cries. She strained her ears to listen for anything that might give away where she was at but so far she’d heard nothing. No cars. No people. Just the occasional airplane overhead. And birds. They reminded her of Gracie Isaac’s pigeons that she kept on her roof. Gracie had invited a few of their classmates over for a birthday party and had shown everyone her birds. They pooped a lot but the sound they made was sort of nice. Briana swallowed hard and lifted her chin against the fear trapped in her chest. Birdsong was the only nice thing at the moment.
To Catch a Killer Page 11