The Sharpest Edge

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The Sharpest Edge Page 18

by Stephanie Rowe

No comparison. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and pulled him deeper, her body electric with energy and need. I love you, Sean. The words didn’t make it to her lips, but they coursed through her body.

  He shuddered against her and they clung to each other as the waves rocked their bodies.

  Whatever was between them, she never wanted to lose it again.

  KIM AWOKE TO the sensation of warmth and utter contentment. Sean was draped over her, nibbling at her ear and whispering her name. She smiled and felt herself relax. He hadn’t withdrawn and put up walls after last night. He was still there beside her, fully embracing the change in their relationship.

  They might have made love ten years ago, but this felt like the first time, as though they’d crossed a line they’d never ventured past before. And it felt right. So unassailably perfect.

  She rolled over and faced him, then blinked with surprise. “You’re dressed.” As in blue jeans, shoes and a T-shirt. His hair was barely damp, so he’d been out of the shower for a while.

  “Some of us have to keep working.” He kissed her again, his fingers twisting in her hair. “I called the guys in L.A. and convinced them to send us the list of people who visited Jimmy in prison and the info they have on John Ramsey. Dead guys chained to moorings tend to get people’s attention. They promised that I’d have a fax or an e-mail by two o’clock today.”

  So much for whispering sweet nothings or declaring his undying love.

  He kissed her again. “It’s almost eight-thirty. We have to leave in a little bit to go over to Will’s house. If you want breakfast or a shower, you’ll have to hustle.”

  She struggled to a sitting position. “That’s it? It’s all business this morning?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “After last night, you can’t just pretend nothing has changed and wake me up by talking about Jimmy.” So much for her perception that he’d been kissing her because he was ready to be all snuggly and devoted.

  He got a wary look on his face. “What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed and pushed her snarled hair out of her face. “I just thought something.” If he couldn’t figure out that he loved her, she certainly wasn’t going to spell it out for him.

  “Well, I don’t know, either. Last night was great, but—”

  She pulled the blankets around her, suddenly very aware that she was still completely naked and he was fully dressed. “But what?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I thought you forgave me for leaving.”

  “I do. I did.”

  “Then what?”

  “You’re leaving again.”

  She stared at him.

  “Aren’t you?” He peered more closely at her.

  “I guess. Yes. I have a career.” But somehow, it didn’t seem all that important right now. All that mattered was Sean. If he said he loved her, if he asked her to stay…this time the answer might be different than it had been ten years ago.

  He nodded. “I’m not moving to Los Angeles. For the first time in years, I feel like I’ve come home. With your dad and his family, I belong again. I have a job that’s pretty decent.” He shrugged. “I’m tired of being alone.”

  “So once again, you choose my dad over me.” She felt like screaming. Why couldn’t he want her more than her family? He didn’t even ask if she wanted to stay. Just assumed she wouldn’t and had already made his choice. Her dad wins again.

  “It’s not that—”

  “Then what is it?”

  He sighed. “There will always be a place for me in this town. I want that in my life.”

  “And you think you don’t have a place with me?”

  He cocked his head. “Let’s be realistic. You have your high-society life in Los Angeles. I’m a small-town cop. What am I going to do out there? I’m not interested in putting on tuxes and going to meet some movie star at a party. It’s not my style. I want to stay here, run the camp someday. It’s where I belong.”

  So that was it then. “What if I stayed here?” Not that she was considering it anymore, but she needed to know.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you thinking about it?”

  “It’s a hypothetical question. If I was willing to stay here and run the camp with you, would there be a future for us?”

  His face softened and he touched her cheek. “I’d be interested in trying again, yeah.”

  She pulled back. It wasn’t enough, and she shouldn’t have asked. As if she needed to torture herself that way. “So that’s the way it is, then. You want me as long as I bring along my family and the camp. If the only way you can have me is to go to L.A. and give up my family, you won’t do it.” She lifted her chin and willed her voice to be steady. “You don’t want me for me. Same as before.” She wanted to march into the bathroom and close the door in his face, but she was naked. Stalking nude didn’t seem to have quite the same dignity, and since he was still lying on top of the covers, it was parade in the buff or stay put.

  He frowned. “I’m not interested in getting hurt again.”

  “No, you’re not interested in taking a risk. You refuse to love me for me.” She tried to shove him off the bed so she could get the covers, but it was like ramming an elephant on steroids. “Well, forget it, Sean. I didn’t love you back then, not really and truly. How could I? I was eighteen. But now, I think I could. But only if you loved me for me. And since you don’t, there’s no point in having this discussion.” Oh, forget it. A door slam was definitely needed right now.

  She kicked off the covers, swung her feet to the floor and stood up. Naked or not, she was making a statement. “You may be an ex-war hero and good with a gun, Sean Templeton, but you are nothing more than a total wuss who’s too wimpy to take a chance on love.” She flung her hair over her shoulder with a very admirable head flip, marched across the room and slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.

  And then she turned on the shower to hide the sound of her crying.

  BY THE TIME they pulled up to Will Ambrose’s house, Sean was in a foul mood. Kim had shrugged off every attempt he’d made at physical contact and had erected a cold barrier between them.

  Just because he didn’t want to move to California? Why was he to blame, when she was just as unwilling to move here? Last night was great and it had reawakened hope in him, hope he hadn’t felt in years. Hope that he could have it all. Kim, her father, the camp, a home that was truly a home.

  But no. She wanted him to give it all up to follow her to California and live some glam life that wasn’t his style. Or, at the very least, she wanted him to reject her dad and the camp. Because he wouldn’t, he was the bad guy?

  And she wouldn’t even talk about it. Every time he tried to bring it up, she changed the subject to Will or Helen or the message of death on the wall of her house.

  Argh! Women!

  “You think he’s here?” Kim peered through the window at Will’s house. “What do you think he’s going to tell us? You think he’s going to admit that he’s John Ramsey?”

  “What if I told you I loved you? What then?” Not that he was sure he did, but he was pretty confident that, with time to rebuild their relationship, he could love her, really love her. How could he not? She was strong, intelligent and courageous. What man wouldn’t love her?

  “Did you bring your gun? Because Pete Gibbs was killed with a gun.” She pursed her lips and stared at the house. “Do you see anyone in the windows? What if he’s planning to shoot me without even showing his face?”

  “Fine. Be like that.” He threw the gearshift into Park, grabbed his gun and kicked open his car door. “Stay in the car.”

  “So he can sneak out the back door and get me while you walk in the front door? Sorry, not gonna happen.” She climbed out of the car and stood on the sidewalk.

  That’s when he realized how wide her eyes were, how white her skin was. Crud. She was terrified, and he was barely paying attention to the
risky situation they were in. What was he thinking?

  He wasn’t thinking. That was the problem. Fear gripped his spine at the thought of endangering her because he screwed up. He cursed and ordered himself to focus. Forget Kim. Stop thinking about love. Screw California.

  He turned to face the house, his eyes narrowing as he examined every window, each bush and tree, the front door. He tensed. “The front door is ajar.”

  “That’s bad?”

  “I don’t know.” He readied his gun and eased toward the door, aware of every movement, sound and odor. “Stay right behind me. If I swing around, duck.”

  “So you don’t shoot me. Nice.”

  She didn’t sound afraid anymore. Good.

  They reached the front door and he rapped the door with his knuckles.

  No one answered.

  He knocked again and the door swung open slightly from the force of his touch.

  “Will Ambrose,” he shouted. “It’s Officer Templeton. Are you there?”

  Silence.

  Kim shifted closer to him and he could smell the scent of her shampoo.

  Cut it out. Don’t think about that!

  Sean yelled again, tapping the door open with his toe.

  The front hall loomed before them. Empty and silent.

  “Something’s wrong,” Kim whispered. “I can feel it.”

  “Me, too.” He eased into the front hall, taking a quick glance in the family room and dining room. Nothing looked out of place.

  The stairs stretched up above them, but he ignored them, sliding past the railing toward the back of the house.

  “Wish I had a gun,” Kim muttered.

  “You’d probably shoot me.”

  “That’s why I want one.”

  He shot a glance at her, but she was looking behind them so he couldn’t see her face to determine if she was joking.

  The door to the kitchen was on swinging hinges, so he hit it with his hip and leaned through with his gun. He cursed. There was enough blood on the floor and cabinets to convince him that Will would never be getting up from the kitchen floor again.

  Kim leaned in behind him, then squawked in surprise. “He was shot in the head?”

  “Looks that way.” He scanned the room and listened but heard no sounds. “Be careful in case the shooter isn’t gone.”

  She let out another noise and moved closer to him while he called it in to dispatch. Made him realize that this was no place for Kim. If the killer was still here, Sean had just brought a civilian into serious danger. “We need to get out.”

  “Don’t you need to check the house?”

  “No.” He grabbed her arm with his left hand and moved back down the hall, watching the upstairs landing especially carefully. “Keep an eye out. And be quiet.” No sense in giving away their position.

  For once in her life, Kim didn’t protest and they made their way back out to his car without being shot at. He shoved Kim into the passenger seat and shut the door, then watched the house until backup arrived. By then, he was pretty sure that no one was still at the house, but it wasn’t until his team did a thorough search of the area that they decided it was safe.

  Safe for them. Not for Will Ambrose.

  Sean explored the house but found nothing that could have been what Will was going to “show” them. Whatever Will knew had died with him.

  “Guess that leaves Carl,” Kim said, when he returned to his cruiser and delivered the news. “Tom exonerated himself. Will is dead. Carl’s the only one left who could be John Ramsey.”

  He nodded. “I already called him and asked him to come down to the station for an interview. At this point, we have nothing on him other than that he’s the right age and works at the camp. Not enough for anything.” He sighed. “We called in the regional crime-scene investigators to work this scene, so with any luck, Carl left behind some evidence that will get him, but it’ll take a while to get results back.”

  “So that’s it? There’s nothing you can do, even though Will is lying there dead?”

  He scowled at her. “We’ll do everything we can, but I can’t snap my fingers and solve the crime. And until we do solve it, you’re in serious danger.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Give me a break. I’ve been in serious danger this whole time. I can’t be freaking out every second or I’d lose my mind.”

  “No, this is different.” He ran his hand through his hair. “The initial contacts were planned to scare you. With the destruction of the house and the murder of Will, things are escalating. Maybe now that Jimmy is dead, John is losing control. Grief has sent him over the edge. He’s becoming desperate, irrational and unpredictable. Maybe he doesn’t worry about getting caught anymore. What does he have to live for now that Jimmy’s dead?” He leveled a serious stare at her. “No, Kim, it’s different now, and you’re in danger.”

  “Then so is my dad. And Helen if she’s innocent.”

  He thought of something then. “Didi was questioning Carl the other day after I filled her in. If Carl realizes that Didi knows something…”

  Kim was dialing the office number for the Loon’s Nest before he’d finished talking. “Is Didi there?” She frowned. “Do you have her home number? This is Kim Collins, the owner.” She waited, then wrinkled her nose at Sean. “Thanks anyway.” She hung up. “Didi isn’t on duty until tonight and the person working the front desk doesn’t have access to employees’ personal files to get her phone number.” She stomped her foot. “What if something happens to her?”

  “Call Alan. The way they were looking at each other, I bet he didn’t stay at a motel last night.”

  “Good idea.” She hit speed dial on her phone, then visibly relaxed when Alan answered. “Alan! It’s Kim. Is Didi with you?” She gave Sean a thumbs-up sign and he felt tension ease from his shoulders. “Where are you guys?” She frowned, then covered the mouthpiece. “They’re at her house.”

  Sean held out his hand for the phone. “Alan, it’s Sean. Will’s been murdered.” He paused. “We think it’s Carl, but we have no evidence yet. But Carl might know Didi is working with us and he’d certainly know you are. So the two of you need to get out of Didi’s house and get to the police station. We’ll figure out a safe place for you guys to hide until we get Carl into custody.” He listened. “Well, get there as fast as you can. That’s where we’re headed. And be careful, okay?”

  He handed Kim’s phone back to her. “They’ll meet us there in a couple of hours.”

  “A couple of hours? What are they doing until then?”

  “I didn’t want to ask.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “They can think about sex while there’s a murderer running around?”

  “Didn’t stop us last night.”

  Her cheeks immediately turned red. “That’s all last night was to you? A little sex?”

  Crud. He hadn’t meant it that way. He’d just wanted to force her to acknowledge that there was something between them, even though she’d been shutting him out all morning. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  She held up her hand. “Forget it, Sean. I don’t want to talk about it. You’ve made it clear where you stand and that’s fine.”

  “Obviously, it’s not.”

  Officer McKeen cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have Chief Vega on the line. He says he needs to talk to you.”

  “The interruption is fine. We weren’t getting anywhere anyway.” He took the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Get down here now. I got the photo of John Ramsey. The most recent one they have is from when he was fourteen, so I don’t recognize him as anyone I’ve seen around town. Maybe you or Kim can.” He paused. “And someone named John Ramsey visited Jimmy in prison twice. So there’s been contact between them. The last time was a week before he was paroled.”

  “We’re there.” Sean hung up and tossed the phone back to Officer McKeen. “We have an identification to make,” he said to Kim.

  God, he hoped
they could match the photo. If not, more people would die.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kim’s gut was twisted in such a knot by the time they walked into the police station, she was sure she’d never be able to eat again. What if she couldn’t match the photo to someone she knew? What if this lead failed entirely, then what? Where would they start? How long could she keep hiding? Will Ambrose had known what was coming, and he hadn’t been able to escape.

  They walked in and a trio of cops were huddled around a desk, all of them staring at something on top of it. The picture?

  Chief Vega glanced up as they walked in. “We can’t match it, but we don’t know the folks at the camp that well.” He gave Sean a look. “It’s not anyone on the force.”

  What was that scowl for? It wasn’t exactly hostile, but it wasn’t friendly, either.

  Sean simply nodded. “Good.”

  “Damn right, it’s good.”

  Kim realized that the chief had been worried that someone on his team was actually John Ramsey, despite his insistence that his team was innocent. Guess Chief Vega wasn’t the big, tough guy he pretended he was.

  Sean approached the desk, and after a moment, Chief Vega stuck out his hand and Sean accepted it. They shook hands once and Kim felt an immediate easing of tension between them, strain she hadn’t realized was there.

  The chief picked up the photo and handed it to them. “It’s an old photo, but maybe you can make a match.”

  Sean held it where she could see it and they both inspected it. It was a photo of two teenage boys. The taller one had his arms folded across his chest and looked angry, and the shorter one was standing a distance away from him, his eyebrows tweaked so he looked wary.

  The boys looked completely opposite; no one would have considered them brothers.

  She pointed to the taller boy. “That’s Jimmy.” She shivered. “Those eyes never changed.”

  Sean set his hand on her shoulder, and she wasn’t in the mood to shrug it off.

  “What about the other one?” Chief Vega asked, and there was no mistaking the hope in his voice.

  Kim studied it and frowned. “There’s something familiar about him.”

 

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