Joey licked her lips as Ash looked her over. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Is Bev Issacs a suspect, too?"
Ash shrugged and slipped an arm around her. "What, just because she hates men?"
He was being evasive. "What does the Chronicle plan to do with her cigarette butts?"
He sighed hard. "Rad's having them DNA tested at an independent lab...just to be on the safe side. Turns out Bev was working in Vegas when those other murders went down. I don't really believe she was involved, but—"
"Did you give him something of mine to have tested, as well?" He didn't answer. Joey stared up at his face, and he didn't have to. She closed her eyes. "God, you really do think it was me."
"Joey, that's not true and you know it. I'm hoping the test will clear you."
"Hoping. But you're not sure, are you?" She looked away, speaking before he could answer. "No, don't say anything. There are already too many lies between us, Ash."
"Maybe if there weren't, I could give you the answer you want to hear." He held her shoulders, staring down at her, searching her eyes. "Talk to me, Joey."
She felt tears burning her eyes and blinked to clear them away. Telling him would mean losing him, and maybe getting him killed. "I can't."
She pulled free of him, shaking her head sadly, and went into the bathroom. He didn't try to stop her.
#
She woke from her makeshift bed on the sofa to the smell of hot oil, and the sound of the shrilling telephone. She sat up, still groggy, feeling a dull ache of emptiness she knew was due to sleeping alone. She hadn't realized how comforting she found being wrapped in Ash's arms all night until she'd spent a night without it. But she'd been unable to sleep with him, knowing he could suspect her of something so heinous. It only brought home to her how little they really knew each other, and made her feel cheap and easy. So she'd told him she would be more comfortable on the sofa, where there'd be no chance of his rolling over and jarring her sore and tender leg. And he had gone along with it, knowing full well it was just an excuse.
He poked his head out of the kitchen, breaking into her thoughts. "Oh, you're awake." She heard sizzling, snapping sounds and then the phone jingled again. "You want to get that? My hands are kinda full."
She nodded as he ducked back into the kitchen. She reached for the phone. There was a lengthy silence after her hello, and she repeated it twice before she got a response.
"Sorry, Mrs. Coye. I'm...not used to calling Ash and having a woman answer. How are you?"
She recognized Radley's voice. "Fine." She was distinctly uncomfortable, knowing this man shared Ash's uncertainty about her, perhaps was even convinced of her guilt by now. "And you?"
"All right, I suppose."
"I'll get Ash. Just a—"
"Not just yet. I'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind."
She swallowed hard, tensing, wondering if he'd come right out and accuse her.
"I don't mind."
"It's...well, it's a strange question on the surface. But I'm aware of your...your gift"
She felt the blood drain from her face. "Ash told you?"
"No, I found out on my own. The point is, I need you to tell me if you...if you begin to, you know, sense anything about this case."
She cleared her throat. "I see."
"I don't think you do. I know you'll confide in Ash if anything...comes to you, so to speak. But you've probably guessed by now that Ash could be a target. He doesn't always know what's best for him, Mrs. Coye, and even when he does, he doesn't always do it. It would be just like him to ignore a serious personal risk to get a story. Especially this story. So if you come up with anything, it might be best if you tell me first."
She kept her voice low, so Ash wouldn't overhear. "You really think he's in danger?"
"I'm afraid so. I've worked with Ash for three years now, and to tell you the truth, I like the guy. I just don't want to see anything happen to him."
She closed her eyes. "Neither do I."
"Then I can count on you to keep me posted?"
She hesitated, then sighed. The more people working to protect Ash, the better. "Yes."
His relief was evident in his tone. "Thank you. Now can I talk to him?"
"Just a sec." She put the receiver on the end table, threw off her covers and walked barefoot to the kitchen, limping a little less than yesterday. Ash was just piling aromatic, golden brown fish onto a platter. She saw another dish, heaped with home fries on the table, beside a stack of pancakes and a bottle of blueberry syrup. She shook her head in awe.
"Peace offering," he said softly. "Forgive me?"
Forgive him? She was the one keeping the secrets, telling the lies. But she smiled at him. She hated the tension between them, wanted it to end, even though she knew it couldn't. Not entirely. Not until she told him everything. "Your boss is on the phone."
"I missed you last night, Joey." He came closer, ran one hand through her hair.
She lowered her head. "Radley's waiting, Ash." When she looked up he was still staring at her, waiting. She knew what he wanted. "I missed you, too."
He nodded, as if satisfied with her answer, and left the room, calling behind him, "Don't start without me."
#
"Where the hell were you all night?"
Ash shook his head, scowling at the mouthpiece before bringing it back to his ear. "Some greeting. What're you, my parole officer?"
"I won't go into the five calls I had from your lady cop friend, or the number of messages I left on your worthless machine, or the gray hairs I got wondering if the Slasher finally caught up with you."
"I think you just did."
"Hear this, Coye. From now on, you let me know where you are, when you're coming back and what the hell you're up to."
"Or what?"
"Or you're off the story."
Ash swore fluently into the receiver.
"Dammit, Ash, I want this scoop as badly as you do, but it isn't worth losing my best reporter. Keep me posted. That's an order. Understood?"
"Fine." Ash agreed, but he didn't like it
"Good, so the next time I can't reach you, I assume the worst and send in the police."
As threats went, it wasn't half bad. "Right."
"Okay. So what'd you find out from the shrink?"
"He's of the opinion that our killer is a man. Says it's rare to find a female serial killer."
"That's nuts."
"That's what I said, but he was adamant."
"What else?"
"Probably abused in childhood, maybe by a trusted adult male. Might be a cross-dresser, but just as likely might not be."
Rad cussed softly. "Sounds to me like you're more apt to learn who it is from your little wife than from this quack."
Ash glanced toward the kitchen. He could hear plates clacking together, silverware jangling. She must be setting the table. "Maybe."
"What's that mean? Has she said anything?"
"I just have a feeling she's close." Ash frowned. "And it scares the hell out of her."
Rad was quiet for a moment. "You think there's a chance she already knows and just isn't saying?"
"Why the hell would she keep it from me?"
"Why do women do anything?" Rad sighed. "Ah, hell, it was just a thought."
"It was a stupid thought. She'd tell me if she knew."
"Like she's been so honest up to now, right?"
"Dammit, Rad—"
"Okay. Don't call me out for insulting the lady's honor. I'm no good with pistols at twenty paces. I'm just trying to cover all the bases."
"Well, you're not even in the ballpark. And by the way, don't send Harris to do any more snooping. The guy's about as subtle as a sledgehammer."
"Bev saw him take the butts?"
"You got it. Maybe you'd better come up with some plausible explanation before you run into her again. Look, is there anything else? My breakfast is getting cold."
"Go eat But don't forget—
"
“Yeah, Rad. I'll fax you a written itinerary before I leave the apartment again, okay? You want it notarized?" He hung up while Rad was still swearing at him.
When he walked into the kitchen, Joey was pouring coffee. He stopped in the doorway, because the sight of her there slammed him in the chest. For a second, he just looked at her. She wore one of her own nightgowns. Not one of the slinky ones, just a plain white one with short, puffy sleeves and a hemline that hovered around her ankles. Her hair was loose, fluffing around her shoulders like a calico cloud.
He liked looking at her, fresh from sleep with her eyes still puffy and her hair unbrushed, standing barefoot in his kitchen, pouring his coffee. He'd like to look at her this way a lot.
She carried two cups to the table and sat down. "So how's the boss?"
"Like a mother hen. He was worried about me." Ash took a seat across from her and helped himself to a piece of fish and a scoop of potatoes.
"So was Beverly Issacs."
He met her gaze across the table. "She's only worried I'm keeping evidence to myself."
"No, she was worried about you. I think...I think she cares."
She was jealous. It was in those transparent eyes of hers. He would have been idiotically glad to know it, if he wasn't aware of her mistrust of men in general, thanks to her father. "Joey, I am not interested in having a fling with Bev."
She nodded, averting her eyes, filling her plate. "You told me once you don't believe in cheating."
"It was the truth. I don't." That should end her worry, he thought, and stabbed three pancakes with his fork, dropping them onto his plate.
"But what if...we weren't married? Would you be interested then?"
He sighed in exasperation. "If we weren't married, all I'd be interested in would be getting us that way!"
He blinked, and only shook himself to clear his head when he heard his fork clatter onto his plate. What in God's name had made him blurt that hunk of baloney? Frowning, he picked up the fork and stuffed a piece of fish into his mouth to prevent anymore absurdities from slipping out of it.
The doorbell buzzed. "Damn. Seems the whole world is conspiring to keep me from having breakfast." He chanced a look at her, but she was just staring at him with those big green eyes, looking as if he'd just told her martians had landed on the roof.
He pushed away from the table and went to get the door.
Ted Dryer stood there looking like a wrung-out rag. His shoulders slumped, his shirt was rumpled and his eyes had dark circles ringing them.
"I need to talk to Joey." There was no preamble, no greeting.
Ash swung the door wider and stepped aside, waving one arm with a flourish. "In the kitchen. Join us for breakfast?"
Ted didn't answer, he just walked in, hands stuffed into his pockets. Ash followed, in time to see him pull out a chair, turn it backward and straddle it. Ash took his own seat and resumed eating, though he was quickly losing his appetite.
"You talked to Caro?"
For someone who needed to see her so badly, he was awfully quiet.
"Of course I have. Haven't you?" Joey finished the meager amount of food she'd taken and got up to carry her plate to the sink. She took out another cup, filled it with coffee and set it down in front of Ted.
"No." His voice was dead.
"Well, you could try calling her."
He closed both hands around the mug. "I have. She won't talk to me."
Joey shook her head, and Ash could see she felt sorry for him, even though she probably believed the same thing her sister did. "She's upset, Ted. Give her some time."
He nodded and lifted the mug, closing his eyes as he sipped from it. "How is she?"
"Fine. And so are the girls." Joey reached out to touch his shoulder. "They don't know anything's wrong. She hasn't told them. They think it's one big vacation, and they're having a ball."
Ted looked at Joey and smiled just a little. It was the saddest thing Ash thought he'd ever seen. "Thanks for that." He glanced across at Ash, then looked pointedly at his plate. "You almost through?"
Ash shook his head and shoved the half-finished breakfast away, thinking it just wasn't meant to be eaten. "Tactless, but to the point. I take it this is going to be a private conversation."
Ted nodded.
"Well, hell, I always shower right after not eating. Knock yourselves out."
He left to go into the bathroom, and he did turn the shower on. But then he slipped back out to the living room, where he could listen in. It wasn't that he didn't trust Joey. He did, in spite of everything. It was Ted that worried him.
"You guys were out late last night."
"We went to the lake."
"Ah...the fish."
"Bit like crazy. I'd like to go back today, but—"
"Tell me the truth, Joey."
God, he'd heard that one before. Ash tensed, waiting for her reply.
"I don't know what you're talking—"
"Don't give me that. This marriage to Coye is a sham, isn't it? There's no record of it in Vegas, or here or anywhere else."
Silence. Then, "How did you know?"
"I checked, is how I know. This whole thing has smelled like bad meat from the start. Does Coye even know, or have you got this poor guy completely buffaloed?"
He heard her sigh, long and hard. "He doesn't know. And you can't tell him."
A chair scraped the floor. Heavy steps seemed to pace. "It's this Slasher thing, isn't it? It's all wrapped up in these murders. Dammit, Joey, you've been obsessed with this thing from the first day it hit the papers. What in hell's going on with you?"
Another chair moved, more gently. "Ted, I'll explain it all to you. I promise. But not now. Not yet."
Silence again. A longer one this time, and Ash could feel the tension in the air.
"You know who it is, don't you?"
"Not yet. But...I think I will. Soon. And then this nightmare will be over."
"Or maybe it'll just begin. Joey, if you keep sticking your nose into places it doesn't belong, you're going to get yourself killed."
Ash stiffened. Was that menace in Ted's voice? A threat? Or just genuine worry? Either way, enough was enough. Ash stripped off his shirt, dropped it on the floor and sauntered back into the kitchen. Both sets of eyes turned toward him, startled, guilty. Joey looked like a frightened doe.
"Sorry to interrupt. I forgot my coffee."
Ted's gaze turned skeptical. "You always take coffee into the shower with you?"
"Old habits die hard."
"So do cockroaches." Ted sent Joey a warning look, then shook his head and left them alone.
Ash watched him go, then faced Joey. "He seemed upset."
"Just like your editor. He's worried."
"About you?"
She nodded. "He's sees himself as some sort of father figure—has ever since he and Caro got married. It drives me nuts, but it's kind of endearing." She sighed and started clearing the table. "At least it was, before he hurt my sister the way he has."
"Fell off his pedestal, did he? Just like your old man?"
She picked up the platter of leftover fish. "You ought to have a cat."
But her face had tightened at his words, and anger had flashed in her eyes. Just for a second it occurred to him that Ted could just as likely be in danger from Joey, as the other way around.
#
She felt it all day, crushing in on her. Danger. No longer a subtle tingling sensation up her spine, but a big, suffocating hand slowly closing around her. Its grip steadily tightened, until she felt as if her brain was in a vise and someone was turning the screws. She knew the threat to Ash was drawing nearer all the time.
The Slasher was somewhere close, watching, waiting.
Ash spent the morning on the phone, talking to everyone involved with the old crimes in Vegas. Not witnesses—no one had ever seen the Slasher strike—but people who had known the victims, or who had been unfortunate enough to discover one of their bodies. He
was milking them for every crumb of information, hoping something would click into place, giving him a clue to the killer's identity. But it was apparent from the increasing tension in his face and in his voice that he was getting nowhere.
He hung up the phone and stared hard at the filled pages of notes in his hand as if waiting for a line to jump out and grab him.
"We have to get out of here."
He looked up fast and frowned at her. "What's wrong?"
"We just have to get out of here. Ash, something's going to happen. I feel it. Let's just leave."
He crossed the room to where she stood, pulled her into his arms and hugged her hard. "Relax, Joey. We're going to be fine, I promise."
"I should have brought the gun. God, why did I leave it locked up at home? I must be insane.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. "Please, let's go somewhere."
She knew he could feel her trembling, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. "Where, Joey?"
"Anywhere. The lake. There wasn't this tension there. It felt safe."
He pulled slightly away from her, looked down at her face, then glanced once toward the phone. "This isn't getting me much, anyway. Okay. A picnic lunch at the lake, but you owe me."
She sighed her relief and grabbed his hand, starting for the door.
"Aren't we packing sandwiches?"
"We'll pick some up on the way." She tugged again, but he stayed where he was.
"I'd better call Rad first, or I'm liable to be out of a job."
She closed her eyes and released his hand. "Hurry."
He made the call short and sweet, but the whole time he kept looking at her as if he was afraid she might be cracking up. And even though he hurried, it seemed to Joey that it took forever to get to the car. She let him drive, wanting to be free to watch all around them. All the way out of the city her gaze was darting to the cars around them, the pedestrians, even the traffic cops.
It was only when they'd left the city far behind, and exited the highway to take winding, narrow roads, that she began to relax. Ash smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Better?"
"Yeah." She let her head rest against the back of the seat, closing her eyes. "I wish we never had to go back."
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