He studied her face and she wasn’t sure what he saw there, but he acquiesced to her wish. “Okay, we’ll get you settled in for the night and then we’ll talk first thing in the morning.”
From the kitchen he led her into a large living room, where she was surprised to see sheets and a bed pillow on the long sleeper sofa, indicating that he obviously slept here on a regular basis.
“I usually spend my nights here,” he said, confirming her thoughts.
“It looks like it’s a sleeper. Why don’t you pull it out?”
“Too much trouble. With me on the sofa there’s no way anyone can come in any of the doors without me hearing them.”
He took her partway down the hallway and pointed to a doorway on the left. “That’s the bathroom. If you want to shower or anything, you’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.”
He turned to the doorway on the right and stepped into the room at the same time that he flipped a light switch. “You can sleep in here.”
The bedroom held a double-size bed, a chest of drawers and a long dresser in oak. The nightstand she recognized as Abraham Zooker’s work. It was delicately carved with flowers in the wood and big enough to hold a small lamp in the same shade of blue as the bedspread.
“This is lovely, thank you,” she said.
“I’ll see if I can find something for you to sleep in.” He disappeared down the hall and into what she assumed was a second bedroom.
At the very end of the hall was a door that was closed. It would be the master suite, the bedroom he’d shared with his wife. All the other doors in the hallway were open, but that one remained closed.
He’d told her he spent most nights on the sofa. Was his heartache over his wife’s death still so great he couldn’t bear the idea of sleeping in the room they had once shared?
There was something both tragic and attractive in a man who grieved the death of his wife long and hard. But Marlene knew that part of his grief was waning. She knew it by the look in his eyes when he gazed at her. She knew it by the sizzle of tension that existed between them whenever they were together.
She’d been around long enough to know when a man was interested. She knew sexual chemistry when she felt it, and there was definitely that kind of chemistry at work between them.
She sat on the edge of the bed, wishing her mind would empty of all thoughts. She wanted to escape the drama, find a return route to the utter numbness that had been her favorite companion for the past year.
The last thing she wanted was to think about sharing a bed with Frank or any man. And she definitely didn’t want to wonder about who wanted her dead.
She stood as Frank came back into the room carrying a folded white T-shirt. “I’m afraid frilly nightclothes are out of my range of providing,” he said as he held out the shirt.
“This is fine. Thank you, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a quick shower now and get some sleep.”
He backed out of the room. “Let me know if you need anything else.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And don’t forget we’re having a long talk about things in the morning.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” she replied. They murmured good-nights and then Marlene carried the T-shirt across the hall and into the bathroom.
Minutes later she stood beneath a hot spray of water, longing for the sweet oblivion of sleep and dreading the morning to come. Tomorrow Frank would ask her questions about who might want her dead. Tomorrow they would go over the list of names she’d written out, none of whom she suspected capable of firing a gun at her.
She had to tell him about the name she hadn’t written on the list. There was no way he could investigate the attempted murder without knowing all the potential players.
Tomorrow she would have to go back to her past, back to the marriage that had nearly killed her, the marriage that had destroyed her soul with its final devastating blow.
Chapter 7
It wasn’t yet dawn when Frank heard Marlene cry out. He jumped off the sofa, grabbed his gun, hit the light switch in the hallway and raced into her room. His heartbeat instantly hit the fight-or-flight level, but flight wasn’t an option.
His gun was at the ready as he whirled into her room.
He released a deep sigh of relief when he realized there was nobody in the room with her and she was obviously suffering from a nightmare.
He hesitated by the side of the bed, watched her thrash about, with desperate cries escaping her lips. “No, please...help me. Somebody help...oh, God, don’t let this happen. Please don’t let this happen.”
Her voice was husky with a wealth of emotion, and he didn’t know whether to wake her up or allow whatever demons haunted her sleep to finish playing out.
When she cried out again, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to rescue her from whatever night terrors had her in their grip. He stepped closer to the bed and gently touched her shoulder.
She shot straight up, her eyes snapping open. They were filled with hazy disorientation. “Marlene, it’s Frank. You were having a nightmare.”
She stared up at him, her eyes glazed and glowing unnaturally pale in the dim light. A long strand of hair clung to her cheek and he couldn’t help himself. He reached out and gently swept it back. “You were having a bad dream,” he repeated.
The touch brought her eyes into focus and she shuddered out a sigh. “I’m sorry. What time is it?”
“No problem, and it’s still early. Go back to sleep.” He stepped back from the bed, afraid that if he didn’t he might touch her again. He desperately wanted to touch her again.
Her hair had been like fine silk beneath his fingertips, and the desire to crawl into bed with her, pull her tight against him, was nearly overwhelming. Thankfully she murmured a good-night and lay back down, her eyes immediately closing once again.
He left her room but instead of heading back to the sofa he went down the hallway and quietly opened the door to the master suite. He knew if he showered in the bathroom across the hall from Marlene’s room, he might keep her awake and she’d had a long night and needed as much rest as she could get. There was no way to predict what might be ahead.
He rarely came into this room. Most of his clothing he’d transferred to the second spare-bedroom closet so he wouldn’t have to visit the room he’d once shared with Grace.
After her death he’d eventually donated all of her clothing, shoes and purses to a local charity. The rest of the personal items he’d thrown away, not knowing what else to do with them.
As always, guilt mingled with grief when he passed the king-size bed covered in a blue-and-brown floral spread and went into the adjoining bathroom.
A few minutes later he stood beneath a hot spray of water and realized while the guilt over Grace’s death remained, most of the grief he’d carried for so long was almost gone. He’d once loved her with all his heart, but she was no longer here and life had continued.
He showered and dressed quickly, then eased back out of the room and headed for the kitchen. Even though it was still early, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. He’d had enough problems finally falling asleep to begin with as visions of Marlene lying dead next to her car had filled his brain.
Once he hit the kitchen he made a pot of coffee and then settled at the table with a cup of the fresh brew, a pad and pen, and the list of names Marlene had written down for him.
Just as she’d told him, there were several Amish named who did business with the store. Abraham Zooker sold his furniture there and his brother, Isaaic, sold the cheese that was so popular with the tourists. William King, a widower with a teenage son and five small children, had recently begun bringing in quilts that his wife had made before her death six months ago.
Marlene had also listed Jennifer Fletcher and Abe Winslow. Both were part-t
ime workers. Jennifer was a delightful twenty-four-year-old woman and Frank knew Abe was also a widower who lived up in the mountains and had taken the part-time job after his wife had died.
Why would any of these people want to kill Marlene? He sat back in his chair and took a sip of his coffee, his thoughts whirling around in an attempt to make sense of what had happened the night before.
The other thing he had to figure out was what he was going to do with Marlene. There was no way he wanted her to return to her apartment, where he felt she would be alone and vulnerable. Wolf Creek was a small town and everyone knew Marlene lived in the small apartment above Minnie’s store. He also knew without question that she’d refuse to spend another night here under his roof.
And he didn’t want her here. Whoever had shot at her the night before had seen the two of them together. It would be an easy guess that Frank might have her here under his roof.
He needed to stash her someplace out of sight until they found out who intended to do her harm. He also needed every person on this list questioned, along with Michael Arello and Edward Cardell.
Anyone who didn’t have a solid alibi for the timing of the shooting was going to the head of a potential-suspect list that would be fully checked out.
He began to make a list of all the people and things that needed to be addressed. Of the three detectives in Wolf Creek, Frank was the list-maker. Steve occasionally made notes for himself but not often, and Jimmy had the ability to store everything in his head like a minicomputer.
He knew the only case Steve and Jimmy were working at the moment was the ever-growing-cold case of Liz Marcoli’s disappearance. They would be able to help him pin down alibis and open a full investigation into the attempted murder of Marlene.
He also had a feeling that there were names Marlene had left off the list, and that was one of several issues he intended to discuss with her before they figured out where to put her for the time being.
By the time he’d nearly finished his second cup of coffee and the sun had risen over the horizon, Marlene made her appearance.
She wore the same clothes that she’d had on the day before, only now there was a small tear in the knee of her slacks and her blouse had a grass stain on the shoulder.
Her hair was, as always, a silky fall to just below her shoulders. The only other difference was that her face had a freshly scrubbed look and was completely devoid of makeup. Frank thought he’d never seen her look so beautiful.
“Good morning,” he said. “Coffee is on the counter and I put a cup there for you to use.”
“Thanks.” She poured herself a cup and then carried it to the chair opposite his at the round table and sat. “Sorry I interrupted your sleep earlier.” She looked down into her coffee.
“Nothing to be sorry about. To be honest, I wasn’t sleeping that well anyway,” he replied. “But it must have been some nightmare.”
“It was.” She raised her cup to her lips as if to halt herself from saying anything else about whatever had haunted her dreams. “Looks like you’ve been busy,” she said as she placed her cup back on the table and gestured toward the list he’d been making.
“I like to jot down things that need to be addressed. Working off lists usually helps me make sure nothing has been overlooked.”
“Sheri is a list-maker in our family,” Marlene said.
Although she appeared relaxed, he could feel tension wafting from her and knew she was probably not looking forward to reliving what had happened the night before.
He pointed to the grass stain on her blouse. “You look like you’ve been doing a little yard wrestling. Sorry about that.”
“You can throw me on the ground any day of the week to save me from getting shot,” she replied.
They both sipped their coffee, the only sound in the kitchen the faint hum of the refrigerator.
“You know we have to talk about all this,” he said as he pointed his pen at her list of names.
“I know, although I’d like to just pretend that last night didn’t happen.”
“But it did, and there’s no way you can hide from the fact that somebody tried to shoot you last night.”
“And it probably is the same person who left the note on my doorstep.”
“I’d agree with that,” he replied. He picked up the paper with the names she’d written and frowned. “But when I look at these people I find it hard to imagine that any one of them is a potential killer.”
“I felt the same way when I was writing down each name,” she agreed.
“Can you think of anything specific about any one of these people that would make me feel like I need to take a closer look at any of them?” He twisted the paper around so she could read the list she’d made once again.
She studied it with a frown dancing daintily across her forehead. “The only thing I can think of is that Abe mentioned that he’d once asked Aunt Liz out for a date and she’d turned him down, but that wouldn’t explain why he’d want to hurt me.”
“When did he tell you this?” Frank asked.
“A week or so ago. He just mentioned it in passing. Why?”
“We never looked at him in connection with your aunt’s disappearance. Abe lives alone in a remote cabin....” Frank trailed off.
“And you think he has her locked up in his cabin and only lets her out when he gets home from work and needs a hot meal and an apple pie cooked?” Marlene asked with a hint of sarcasm.
“You have no idea what people are capable of doing. There could be a psychopath living up in the mountains, living here in town. We have two women about the same age who have gone missing, both under similar circumstances. Agnes Wilson has been gone for two years, your aunt for a month. The idea of her being held by some mountain-man recluse doesn’t sound so far-fetched to me.”
A faint stain colored her cheeks as she once again wrapped her fingers around her coffee cup. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be flippant, but I’m not sure that whatever happened to Aunt Liz can be tied to what’s happening to me now.”
“I’m not sure that it does,” Frank replied. “Whoever is after you isn’t looking to take you off somewhere and keep you a prisoner. Those bullets were meant to leave you dead in the parking lot, not to carry you off somewhere. I’m just surprised the attack happened with me right there with you.”
“Anybody on this list would know that you carried a gun,” she replied. “You could have fired back and killed them.”
Frank frowned. “He or she had the cover of the woods and apparently was either fairly certain of their aim or certain that I wouldn’t be able to see them. Whoever it was didn’t want to wait for another opportunity to ambush you. It certainly doesn’t feel like the same person who might have kidnapped your aunt and possibly Agnes Wilson.”
“So, we potentially have two nutcases running around in town,” she replied, her eyes dark blue and unreadable.
“That would be a possibility. Are you sure there isn’t anyone else we need to check out?”
Although her eyes remained dark blue, he saw the flash of secrets, a hint of knowledge she’d yet to give him. He leaned forward. “This isn’t a game, Marlene. If you’re holding anything back, then now is the time to come clean. I can’t help you if you aren’t willing to be brutally honest with me.”
She raised a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, and in the tremble of her fingers, he was positive she had secrets he needed to know.
“Then I guess I should talk to you about my ex-husband,” she finally said, and this time her gaze held unmistakable fear.
* * *
She hadn’t wanted to go there. She hadn’t wanted to relive the two years of hell she’d spent with her ex, but she realized she couldn’t be sure if he was finished with her yet, if he wouldn’t be satisfied until she was dea
d and buried.
She finished her coffee and got up to pour herself another cup. “His name is Matt McGraw and he lives in Pittsburgh.” She poured the coffee and then leaned with a hip against the counter. “I met him here in Wolf Creek. Aunt Liz, Sheri and Roxy and I were having a night out on the town celebrating Aunt Liz’s birthday. We’d had dinner out and had finished the night at the Wolf’s Head Tavern to have a few drinks. Matt was there with some hunting buddies and we were instantly drawn to each other.”
She paused, remembering that moment when hers and Matt’s gazes had connected and an instant attraction had erupted. Fatal attraction, her brain screamed. He’d charmed her that night and for the next three weeks that he’d remained in town.
“He was here on a hunting vacation with some of his friends, but his hunting trip turned into a whirlwind romance between the two of us.” She took a sip of her coffee as she reminded herself that she’d been all kinds of a fool.
Frank remained seated and silent, allowing her to tell him what she needed to without interruption. You don’t have to tell it all, a little voice whispered in the back of her head. He doesn’t have to know everything.
“Anyway, after three weeks, much to my sisters’ and Aunt Liz’s dismay, we wound up getting married at the courthouse and I packed my bags and moved with him to Pittsburgh to begin my happily ever after with the man of my dreams.” She picked up her coffee cup and returned to the table.
She drew a deep breath, wanting to be calm and cool, needing to wrap herself in the numbing world that kept her from hurt, from remembered pain.
“That’s when I realized there were a lot of things I didn’t know about the man I’d married. I didn’t realize he was wealthy and influential. I didn’t realize he was a mover and shaker and wanted me to be his beautiful arm piece and the perfect hostess for all the fancy dinners and events he attended.”
She silently cursed her trembling hand as she raised the cup to her lips. Even the simplest thoughts of Matt made her mouth dry and her nerves quiver. “Anyway, needless to say, the marriage didn’t work and I got out.”
Lethal Lawman Page 9