Count on a Cop 49 - Julianna Morris

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Count on a Cop 49 - Julianna Morris Page 10

by Honor Bound


  Wasn’t that just like him?

  She’d geared herself up for nothing. It was both a relief and anticlimactic.

  Kelly poured a cup of coffee and curled up in a chair overlooking the water. The swells of the ocean were barely visible through the mist, and the foghorn from the distant lighthouse mingled with the barking of sea lions.

  Her third novel, the next in the Deep series, would be published in eight months. She was working on the fourth. Perhaps she ought to switch to writing science fiction. Or fantasy. Something that wouldn’t have the slightest association to the real world. She enjoyed J.R.R. Tolkien and The Lord of the Rings trilogy. After all, her cat was named for a Tolkien character—brave, determined, ridiculous Frodo, who’d risked his life to destroy the ring and defeat the Dark Lord. Of course, some of her friends thought she should have named him Sauron for the Dark Lord, but that was purely a matter of opinion.

  Kelly stretched sleepily and reluctantly went to finish getting ready.

  Henry and Gina arrived as she locked the dead bolt on the front door, driving the Chevy Blazer that Henry had bought after totaling his truck.

  “We’re taking you to church,” Henry called as he got out.

  Kelly sighed. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “Who said I’m guarding you? Can’t I take my best girls to church without an ulterior motive? We’re also hijacking you for lunch, and this is the easiest way.”

  “Hijacking is an ulterior motive.”

  “Son of a gun, you’re right.” He smiled artlessly. “But you wouldn’t get me in trouble with Gina, would you? She wants to go up the coast and eat at that seafood place you both like.”

  Lunch sounded fine, unless Ben was going to be there as well. But it would be rude to ask.

  Henry patted her shoulder. “You have to rescue me. Ben and Toby are abandoning us to see a movie this afternoon. You know how Gina wants to try new things and claims I’m dull since I always get the Surf-and-Turf plate.”

  “Okay, but I’ll go in my car.” She’d have more control that way.

  “Naw. We’re already here. Jump in.”

  “I’ve got cookies in the trunk and the lesson plans for my class,” she said. “It makes more sense to go separately.”

  “Give me your keys—I’ll move everything.”

  “Henry—”

  “Be reasonable. It’s silly to take two vehicles.” He set his jaw in a way that reminded her of Ben.

  Lord. Everybody had lost their minds, including her. What could anyone have to gain by watching the house? Even blackmail was far-fetched. Ben and Henry had to be wrong—Ben because he was too suspicious for his own good, and Henry because he worried too much.

  “Henry, this is absurd. You must have misread the situation. I know the police chased someone away, but maybe it was somebody casing the neighborhood. Or a kid who didn’t want to get caught breaking curfew. There are a lot of logical explanations that don’t involve me being a specific target.”

  “Having someone ‘casing’ the neighborhood isn’t a huge improvement,” he said dryly. “But look at it this way. If we’ve misread things, all that that happens is Gina and I get to keep Toby for a few nights, and Ben gets a sore back from sleeping on your couch. Since the two of you still seem to be in a state of war, that should make you happy.”

  Oh, great. Ben had a big mouth.

  “The couch is fine,” she said. “I slept on it when they were remodeling the bathroom.”

  Henry’s grin widened. “A little adversity isn’t bad for the soul, and sleeping on the couch beats a stakeout in the front seat of a Jeep. Take my word for it. Come on, let’s go before you’re late for your class.”

  He waved at the shiny white Blazer. Henry preferred white vehicles—probably due to his “Knight on a White Horse” fixation. At the moment that fixation was directed toward her.

  Resigned, she handed him her car keys. Whether she needed protection or not, she could see that arguing wouldn’t get her anyplace. For now she would have to play along.

  “Hey, Gina,” she said, getting into the backseat while Henry collected the cookies and other packages from her trunk and stowed them in the Blazer. “Hey, yourself.”

  “Are you going to put the blame for this ‘Rambo Mother Hen’ reaction on Henry, or take it yourself?”

  “Henry is taking it this time.” Gina smiled sweetly. “We like to share.”

  WHEN HENRY BROUGHT KELLY home late that afternoon she looked sharply at the house.

  “What is going on?” she asked.

  He lifted a shaggy white eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “Those are new.” She gestured to the lights high on the corner of the house and the fixtures at both her front and side doors. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

  “Gosh, a bored electrician must have been driving down the street and decided to be productive. Clever of him, seeing that you needed more motion sensor lights.”

  Kelly closed her eyes, marshaling her thoughts. She loved Henry and Gina, but she wasn’t their daughter. “You loaned Ben the key to my house and he spent the morning installing the lights, didn’t he?”

  “Now that you mention it, I had a few unused fixtures lying around. He knows how much I hate stuff going to waste.”

  The chill she’d felt the other night returned, only this time it was because things were going too fast. She was losing control.

  “Tell me how much they cost. I’ll pay for the hardware, and for Ben’s work.”

  “You will not. It’s a housewarming gift.”

  “That’s what you said when you put in the locks. And besides, I moved here two years ago.”

  “This is the other half of the gift.”

  “I would have taken care of it on my own.”

  “But now you don’t have to. Open up and I’ll make sure everything is secure.”

  Frustrated, Kelly unlocked her front door and waited while Henry went from room to room. She appreciated Henry’s and Gina’s desire to help, but they didn’t know when to stop and she didn’t want to be afraid to go into her home alone.

  “It’s okay,” he called after a few minutes. “Come on in.”

  Kelly found him in the dining room examining one of her chairs. He clucked as he pulled on the cross sections and tested the leg strength.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I noticed it seemed wobbly when you had us over to dinner,” he said. “I was right. This needs some adjustment. My tool kit is in the Blazer. It won’t take much to fix.”

  Oblivious to her protests, Henry strolled out and retrieved his tools. Kelly could have believed there was a problem with one of the chairs, but he proceeded to work on them all, followed by the table.

  “Might as well be thorough,” he said.

  Outside the sun sank into the horizon.

  The doorbell rang as he set the table upright.

  It was Ben.

  “Evening, Ben.” Henry hoisted his box of tools and gave Kelly a peck on the cheek. “I’ll be heading on home, kiddo. I’ve taken enough of your time.”

  AS SOON AS THEY WERE ALONE Ben recognized that Kelly’s patience—and her temper—was stretched thin.

  He hadn’t expected her to welcome him. Some people tried to rationalize when they were being stalked; they didn’t want to believe something was happening.

  It’s my imagination.

  Who could be after me?

  Why would anyone be after me? Strange things happen to everybody….

  But any kind of stalker was dangerous. He should know, he’d dealt with a few of them in Los Angeles. They didn’t need logical reasons for their actions, and some were plain nuts. The logical ones were just as bad in other ways.

  Ben put his backpack on the coffee table. “You may as well yell at me for installing the lights and get it over with.”

  “I don’t need your interference. I can make my own decisions,” she said tightly.

  “No one ever said
you couldn’t.”

  “You’re acting like it.”

  “Independence can be carried too far. So I put in a few lights. It’s no big deal. Are you in much pain from your stubbed toe?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

  She regarded him narrowly. “No.”

  “That’s good. Toby enjoyed his Sunday school class today. He needed to see you and be sure you were okay after all the upsets.”

  Ben saw a hint of softening in Kelly’s face. “Gina said he was asking questions about what happened.”

  “Yeah. We had to tell him a little bit.”

  “Not too much, I hope.” She stirred restlessly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I’ve remembered something about Simon.”

  Ben’s nerves went on full alert. “Yes?”

  “It probably isn’t important, but I think he may have spoken more than one language.”

  A bilingual homeless man. Another mystery to a man who was already mysterious. “Do you know which language?”

  “No, it’s just a guess. But he was also well-read. He quoted various philosophers and used imagery from classic novels like Moby Dick and David Copperfield, suggesting a formal education. I never understood how he ended up being homeless.”

  “It can happen to anyone. Sometimes there’s a psychological reason, similar to the character in your novel, tormented with guilt over his wife’s suicide. Did anything make you think Simon had experienced a significant trauma in his past?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t get any of this. How could his murder be connected to Harvey’s, and why would anyone start threatening the mayor? I could understand it better if his brother was getting hate mail.”

  “You dislike Frank Stone that much?”

  “Not enough to threaten him, but he’s always calling me ‘babe’ or ‘sugar’ or something equally inappropriate for someone I can barely tolerate. But I have to admit he’s smart, while the mayor is so…bland.”

  “People are unhappy that Phillip Stone didn’t do more to mediate the dockworkers’ strike.”

  “They were more upset with Harvey for the conditions that led to the strike.”

  “And Harvey Bryant is dead, that makes every one of his disgruntled employees a potential suspect. That’s a lot of people. He must have employed half of Sand Point at one time or another—and screwed most of them around over pay and working conditions.”

  “That’s a motive for Harvey’s murder, not Simon’s.”

  Kelly’s shoulders drooped and Ben struggled with the impulse to comfort her. She got to him. Even her scent threw him. It was uniquely Kelly—a light, vanilla-floral fragrance that pricked at his senses without overwhelming them. Yet it couldn’t be expensive; she’d worn the same perfume when she was eighteen and earning minimum wage at the doughnut shop.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to resist temptation. “Tell me about Frank.”

  “There isn’t much to say. Phillip seems to idolize him—but that’s big brother stuff. Frank goes back and forth between Washington and Oregon a lot. He’s in town right now—he thinks he’s helping with Phillip’s security.”

  Ben snorted. “I know, my officers told me.”

  “Be careful,” Kelly warned. “I think he wants his old job as police chief back. And the mayor would be only too happy to help him get it.”

  “Too bad, the position is filled.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “SLEEP TIGHT,” BEN SAID as he tucked Toby into bed at Henry and Gina’s on Monday night. It was the bedroom where Ben had once stayed on his summer visits, and looked the same except that Henry had patched the hole in the wall. Back then phone calls with his parents were usually followed by an explosive outburst. Instead of getting mad about the damage, his uncle had simply put up a punching bag in the carport and suggested a less destructive response.

  Toby yawned. “Poppa, give Miss Kelly a good-night kiss for me.”

  “Who said I’m going to see Miss Kelly?”

  “You told Aunt Gina.”

  “Oh.” Kids had big ears and used them. “You shouldn’t talk about that.”

  “Why not?”

  Why indeed? Yet a picture rose in Ben’s mind of a teenage Kelly, head high, red spots on her cheeks, walking past a group of sniggering girls from school. He’d sent them a loud raspberry and slung his arm around Kelly’s shoulders, but she’d been withdrawn for hours.

  “Pal, I can’t explain, except that Miss Kelly doesn’t like being talked about.”

  “Okay. But it’d be fun if she slept with us.”

  “I’m making sure Miss Kelly is safe,” Ben said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’m not going over there to have fun.”

  “I know. You told Aunt Gina it’s ’cause of a bad man.” Toby stuck out his chin, though he looked worried. “I could take care of her. I’m gonna be like you and make the bad people go away.” Sheesh.

  Ben felt as if a vise was squeezing his chest. He couldn’t remember ever wanting to be like his father; it was Henry he’d always tried to follow. “I’m sure you will, son. But I’ll take care of it this time.”

  “Okay.” Toby turned on his side, blinking sleepily. “G’night, Poppa.”

  “Good night, pal.”

  Life sure threw some curves, Ben mused as he drove to Kelly’s house. He’d never wanted kids—but from the moment he’d first held Toby, he’d been hooked. It didn’t matter that his marriage was already crap, that red-faced, squalling baby had owned him.

  He pulled into the drive and a blaze of light flashed on from the motion sensor fixtures he’d installed Sunday morning. He’d also made an appointment with an alarm company to put in a system, but that was weeks away. The local security business was booming thanks to the murders.

  The curtain at the window swayed after Ben rang the doorbell, and he nodded, glad Kelly was still taking precautions.

  “Hey,” he said when the door swung open.

  She appeared even less welcoming than the previous two evenings, or maybe it was more a case of her having no expression at all.

  “Hey, yourself.” She turned and started up the stairs. Two blankets and a pillow were neatly stacked on the end of the couch and the lights were mostly off.

  “What, no foreplay, honey?” he called. It was wicked, but the urge to tear holes in her cool facade was irresistible.

  Kelly returned and stabbed a finger into his chest. “I’m not in the mood, sweetheart. I have a headache and don’t feel like changing the sheets.”

  “You wouldn’t care about the sheets when we were done.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  Ben glimpsed something bleak in her face and swallowed another outrageous comment. Kelly wasn’t in the mood for jokes, either. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bull. You aren’t that good of an actress. Did something happen after Henry left?”

  His uncle was spending the early evenings with her, but Ben hadn’t gotten a status check from him. Now he wished he’d made the time. Kelly’s moods these days were unpredictable.

  “Nothing happened and nothing is wrong.”

  “Something is different, so talk to me. I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you think. I’ve kept your other secret, haven’t I?”

  “It isn’t a secret…exactly.”

  Hell.

  This must be another one of those men-are-from-Mars things. He hated those kinds of discussions. Ben quelled his impatience and focused on Kelly. Her lips were in a sad, flat line and there was a distance in her eyes that he’d only glimpsed in the past.

  Maybe he shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

  “Come on.” He put a hand on her back and propelled her into the kitchen. Being sensitive wasn’t his forte, but he could give it a shot. “Sit down while I fix you a ‘Good Night Special.’”

  “I don’t drink much,” she warned, yet she sank into a chair, tucking one leg beneath her.

  Ben took milk and maple syrup
from the refrigerator. “My ‘Good Night Special’ is kid-friendly. It doesn’t have booze.” He poured milk and a splash of maple syrup into a pan and adjusted the heat. Five minutes later he placed a steaming cup on the table in front of her.

  “You don’t seem like the warm-milk type,” she commented.

  “I wasn’t. Then I had a son.”

  She sipped the milk in silence and the strain eased from around her lips.

  “So, what’s up?” Ben asked finally. “I can see you’re upset. What’s the harm in telling me?”

  “I…” Kelly shrugged. “It’s just life. Today is an anniversary of sorts—not for the day Mitch and I got married, but something more important to us.”

  “Aren’t wedding anniversaries tops for women?”

  “Not for Mitch and me.” Kelly traced the rim of the cup with her finger. “He was trying to get me to set a date, but I wanted to graduate from junior college first and kept putting him off. So a year-and-a-half after we were engaged he presented me with a set of wedding rings and a calendar. The weekend following my graduation was circled. Everything was arranged, including the invitations, and he’d bought plane tickets to Italy for our honeymoon. It was ten months away and he and his parents had taken care of the smallest detail.”

  Ben frowned. They’d waited more than two years to get married? Why would someone who wanted the security of a husband delay so long?

  “You were living together, right?”

  “No.” Kelly shook her head. “I had a room over the Tide Water restaurant, and Mitch was sharing an apartment by the Marina with a couple of other firefighters.”

  “The Tide Water? Are you cracked? Henry and Gina wouldn’t have asked you to leave the duplex,” Ben said tightly. “And I’m sure they were appalled at you living over the Tide Water. That’s a lousy part of town.”

  “They were upset, but I couldn’t waitress enough hours to pay the rent and other expenses while trying to go to school, and I refused to take advantage of them. Anyway, Mitch was fine with waiting as long as I understood that I didn’t need to prove anything to him.”

  “What did he think were you were trying to prove?”

 

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