Teresa followed his orders like a child, marching upstairs, stripping off her wet clothes, then impulsively turning on the shower, making the water as hot as she could stand it. Under the pounding water, Teri closed her eyes, trying to erase the last hour from her mind, but it was useless. Every detail flooded back with blinding clarity.
Although the sheriff knew the horse farm belonged to Teresa, when he’d first arrived, he’d directed most of his questions to Mac. It must be a guy thing, Teri had thought vaguely. Men always assumed other men could answer questions more accurately and coherently than women could. But eventually the sheriff had turned to her, asking why Gus had been in the barn, who had been in the barn with him, who could have wanted to kill him—questions Teresa couldn’t possibly answer.
While the sheriff was questioning her, Josh Gibbs had arrived. His reaction to his father’s murder had been stunned horror, followed by almost frightening fury. Finally, he’d taken a swing at Mac, the stranger Josh’s roiling, baffled mind thought somehow must be responsible for Gus’s death. Mac had seen the swing coming and dodged it. Police restrained Josh when he tried taking a second shot, but by then the shred of composure Teri had clung to snapped. To her humiliation, she burst into uncontrollable sobs.
“I’m taking Miss Farr back to her house,” Mac had told the sheriff in a tone that brooked no argument. “She’s had all she can take for one day.”
The sheriff, not to be outdone, gave his permission, although Mac had not asked for it. Mac led Teresa out of the barn. Numbly she’d climbed in his car, and he drove slowly back to the house.
Now, as she stepped out of the shower, she realized she’d finally stopped shivering, but she felt cold deep inside. She slipped into underwear and then a heavy terry cloth robe she usually wore only in winter. She turned the blow-dryer on her hair for five minutes, then in a fit of impatience turned it off while her hair still streamed damply below her shoulders.
When Teri reached the foot of the stairs, Mac appeared holding two thermal cups of steaming coffee. He held one out to her and she took a sip, then smiled. “Just a tad of cream, a pinch of cinnamon, and no sugar. You remembered.”
Mac grinned. “The only person I’ve ever known who takes cinnamon in their coffee is Teresa Farr. You’re unique, Teri, in more ways than one.”
“I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.” Teresa felt her cheeks grow warm and she quickly looked down at her coffee. Mac’s gaze seemed too familiar, too intimate, for her to return casually. “Your clothes are as wet as mine were,” she said. I’ll put them in the dryer if you take them off.”
Mac raised an eyebrow and one side of his mouth quirked in an insinuating smile. “Upstairs on the right is the guest bedroom. In the top drawer of the dresser is a pair of jeans and a couple of shirts. I think they’ll fit you,” Teri said. “And quit smirking. The clothes are Kent’s. Once in a while he stops by for a short ride on Conquistador after he leaves work.”
“Convenient explanation, Teri,” Mac said lightly.
“I don’t need an explanation, but if the clothes belonged to a lover, I don’t think they’d be in the guest room.” Teresa stepped aside and motioned at the stairs. “Go change before you sit down and ruin my furniture with your wet jeans.”
“So it’s the furniture you’re worried about, not my health.”
“You don’t catch colds, remember?”
As Mac disappeared up the stairs, Teresa walked through the living room sipping her coffee and musing at how strange it felt to be here with him, letting him fix coffee for her, telling him to change into Kent’s jeans so his own clothes could dry. It felt strange, but it also felt familiar. And so it would, she reasoned. They’d known each other for years. They’d been in love. They’d once been engaged.
And that’s what she had to remember, Teresa told herself. The love and the engagement were in the past. She couldn’t put faith in the reassurance she felt with Mac tonight. She had to consider the circumstances. She’d just suffered the second-biggest shock of her life and Mac had been with her. Unlike the night when her father and Wendy had been murdered, she’d had someone to stand by her, actually to take over and to shield her from the barrage of questions and the suspicious looks, and then to whisk her away when she’d had as much as she could endure. Mac had shared this awful experience with her and he had been protective and comforting, but to comfort wasn’t to love. Teresa had no idea how Mac really felt about her. And at the moment she had no idea how she really felt about him.
Mac came downstairs wearing Kent’s jeans, which hit at least an inch above his ankles, and a polo shirt stretched tightly across his chest. He grinned and said, “I guess I’m bigger than Kent—I hope I’m not ruining his shirt.” Then Mac had insisted on putting his own clothes in the dryer rather than letting Teresa do it. Finally, they sat down at the kitchen table, each with a second cup of coffee. Sierra was rewarded for her earlier good behavior with another piece of beef jerky.
“I guess I shouldn’t be having all this coffee, considering how nervous I already am,” Teri said.
“It’s decaf. I hope you don’t mind—I rummaged through your cabinets until I found some.”
“I don’t mind at all. It was very thoughtful of you.”
Teresa realized how stiff she sounded, and when Mac reached over and covered her hand with his, she nearly jerked it away. Mac held it firmly and gave her an unflinching stare. “I know this situation must be uncomfortable for you, but you shouldn’t be alone right now and I’m the only game in town,” Mac said evenly. “I know you could call Carmen or Sharon and Kent, but then you’d have to replay the whole evening for them, and you don’t need that tonight. Just put up with me for a little while. After all, you might need me. The sheriff said he wasn’t through talking to you. He’d call the talk an interview, but it would be an interrogation and it’s not happening while I’m here.”
“No wonder he wants to interrogate me,” Teri said drearily. “Who else would be the number-one suspect in this murder case? The notorious Teresa Farr.”
“I’m not going to tell you you’re being silly. I’m sure the cops do consider you a suspect, although I don’t know what your motive would be for killing your hired hand.”
“Gus,” Teresa said. “His name is Gus Gibbs and I thought the world of him. He was kind and honest and funny and caring and…” Her eyes began to fill with tears.
Mac gave her a sympathetic smile. “Of course you would always call him by his name. Your jerk of a father always referred to ‘the help,’ not you or your mother. Both of you took a genuine interest in the people who worked for you. I know my mother thinks your mother was the best friend she ever had. She’s never stopped missing Marielle.”
Teresa flushed at the mention of her mother. Dear God, please let Kent be right, she thought. Please let my imagination be running wild, thinking it was Mom I saw running in front of my car. Let it be a teenager out for fun.
“Teri, what are you thinking?” Mac asked.
“Nothing important, just about tonight and…” She floundered mentally for a moment, then said, “I don’t know why I didn’t see Eclipse running loose when I came back from the club. She must have been outside by then.”
“Did I arrive immediately after you did?”
“No. There was at least a twenty-minute lag.”
“Then the horse could have gotten loose during that time. Or maybe it was loose when you got home, but you just didn’t see it because it was behind the barn or something.”
“I guess so,” Teresa said unhappily. “But if I’d stopped at the barn instead of coming straight home, maybe I could have prevented Gus’s death.”
“And maybe you could have gotten yourself murdered, too. Besides, it’s better that I can testify that you were here in your house, I took you back to the barn, and I was with you when you found Gus. You weren’t alone… again.”
“Not like the first time I found someone murdered,” Teresa said bitterly. �
�I don’t think the police would have believed that was a coincidence. Even I would have trouble believing it if I weren’t the one who keeps finding mutilated bodies.”
Mac was silent while she swallowed hard, then lifted her cup with a shaking hand and took a sip of coffee. Finally he asked, “Teri, why did you decide to come back here to live? Was it just because Byrnes had been caught and you thought everything would be the same as it was before the murders?”
“You think my life was great before the murders? My mother was deeply unhappy even when I was a little girl. I never liked my father, and the stricter he got with me, the more I rebelled, so that by the time he was killed, I already had a reputation for being wild, a troublemaker, an embarrassment to my whole family. I wasn’t half as unruly as people thought I was, but I never tried to set the record straight. I enjoyed being a thorn in my father’s side.”
“I think a lot of people knew that, Teri. I certainly did. Anyone who got close to you knew you weren’t some uncontrollable, wayward girl.”
“Don’t forget ‘immoral.’”
“I thought ‘wayward’ covered ‘immoral.’” Mac grinned. “And your relationship with me was to blame for getting you labeled immoral and me a pervert for dating a seventeen-year-old girl. But I’m not a pervert and you certainly aren’t immoral when it comes to sex or life in general. You’re actually one of the most honorable people I’ve ever known, and I’ve met a lot of people since I met you.”
Teresa felt her cheeks coloring. “Honorable. No one has ever applied that word to me.”
“That’s because no one has ever known you like I do,” Mac said softly. Then he smiled. “Remember when we met—you hung out your bedroom window and talked to me about Billy Idol’s ‘Sweet Sixteen.’ You were flirting like crazy that day.”
“And I was scared silly to be acting so ‘brazen,’ as your mother would say.” Teresa grinned. “I did it partly because I knew my dad was upstairs and he’d hear me. I wanted to make him mad. But mostly I came on so strong because I had such a crush on you. I wanted you to think I was bold when it came to men. A real woman of the world.” Teri suddenly burst into giggles. “Some woman of the world. I’d never even been kissed!”
“That’s what made you so appealing—you trying to act like you flirted outrageously with men every day when I knew from my mother and my friends that you were really shy around guys.” She blushed more, remembering how she’d deepened her voice to what she’d considered irresistible sexiness, batted her eyelashes, and flipped her long black hair over bare shoulders. “I think if I’d started to climb up that trellis leading to your room, you would have fainted, Miss Teri.”
Teresa laughed. “Oh, I absolutely would have! I’d been practicing my seduction of you for about fifteen minutes before I got the nerve to call out to you. And even though you acted just the way I wanted you to—interested, faintly attracted—my heart was still pounding and my stomach was in a knot from nerves. For once I was relieved when I heard my father stomping down the hall and I had an excuse to flee from that window. What a femme fatale!”
“You were, even if you didn’t realize it.”
They smiled at each other. Teresa absently dropped another jerky strip to Sierra, who would no doubt suffer some stomach discomfort tomorrow for overindulging. Then Teri got up, filled her and Mac’s cups with all the coffee left in the pot, and sat down again, suddenly feeling as tired as she could ever remember.
“Why don’t you go on up to bed, Teri?” Mac said. “You look like you’ve just about had it. I’ll linger awhile in case the sheriff gets really ambitious and comes up here. You need rest.”
“I know I need rest, but I also need to answer the question you asked earlier. Why did I come back here?” Teresa took a breath and spoke slowly. “I came back because my brother and my nephew live here—they are my only living relatives, Mac, and I didn’t want to keep them at a distance just because I was afraid of public opinion. I also wanted to show the people in this town I had nothing to hide, no reason to run from Point Pleasant.” She hesitated, then decided to tell Mac the complete truth. “And I thought if my mother was still alive, she might come back here and…”
“And she couldn’t turn to Kent?”
“Kent loved her, but I loved her more. And he’s married and has a family, whereas I’m alone and I could concentrate just on her. I wanted her to come to me… at least, I thought I wanted her to come to me. But now…”
Mac frowned and leaned closer to her. “But now what?”
Teresa stiffened. Because of her shock over Gus’s murder and because Mac was being so kind to her, she’d let her guard down; she’d talked too much. But she was going to stop talking. She wasn’t going to tell Mac that earlier in the evening she’d seen a frantic-eyed woman she thought was her mother running across the road, perhaps running from the barn where she’d turned loose the horse that looked just like the horse Cassandra she’d had so long ago. Maybe Gus had walked in and caught Marielle turning Eclipse loose. Maybe he’d recognized her, wanted to help her, tried to keep her, to “capture” her—the last thing an unbalanced Marielle would have wanted. So rather than be trapped, to perhaps be held accountable for the murders eight years ago, Marielle had…
Teresa closed her eyes. Marielle had stabbed Gus to death.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1
A BELL. IN THE distance a bell. Her mother was ringing a bell, beckoning her—but beckoning her to where? To whom? A sad, lonely mother who loved her child dearly and desperately needed her, or a mother who had turned into a killer and wanted to use her daughter as a shield or even worse—
Teresa jerked awake, drenched with sweat. The bell rang again and she realized it hadn’t been part of her dream. It was her doorbell. She glanced at the bedside clock. Seven thirty. She hadn’t gone to bed until three.
Sierra had already sprinted down the stairs barking furiously at the closed front door as Teri clambered out of bed and slipped on a robe. She went to the front door hesitantly, expecting to see the sheriff. Instead, Josh Gibbs stood red-eyed and haggard on her porch.
“Oh, Josh, come in,” Teresa said with a rush of emotion, opening the door, reaching out to take his arm and draw him inside. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you last night. I’m so sorry about your father. I can’t begin to tell you how awful I feel. I can’t believe anyone would hurt Gus—”
Teresa broke off immediately, realizing she was babbling while Josh’s face remained like stone. Her hand dropped from his arm. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked.
“I want to talk to you,” he said without emotion.
“Yes, of course.” Teresa suddenly felt absurdly guilty, as if she’d killed Gus. “I’m sorry we couldn’t talk last night, but everything was such a mess and we were all so shocked.…”
Josh nodded as if he was supposed to respond, not as if the movement came naturally. “Shocked, yes.” He swallowed. “I guess I could drink a cup of coffee.”
“It’ll just take ten minutes for me to put on a pot. Do you want to come in the kitchen?”
“I’ll stay out here, ma’am, in the living room with the dog.”
“Ma’am.” “The dog.” Not “Miss Farr” or “Sierra.” Teresa realized Josh’s world had been rocked last night. Still, the stiffness of his manner unnerved her. She fumbled with the coffeemaker and spilled grounds on the counter. She knew she should go back and talk to Josh while the coffee dripped, but instead she paced around the kitchen until the last drop of coffee hissed into the pot. Three minutes later, she carried a tray with full cups of coffee, sugar, and cream into the living room and made a great fuss of preparing each cup. Afterward, though, she was forced to sit down and face Josh.
“You said you wanted to talk to me,” she dived in. “I suppose you want to know how I found your father—the circumstances, I mean.” Josh nodded and Teresa started with Mac banging on her door to tell her about the panicked Eclipse, their capture of the horse, th
en the discovery of Gus’s body in the stall. “I have no idea who let out Eclipse or who could have… hurt your father,” Teresa ended weakly, thinking she sounded as if she were more coldly self-concerned with conveying her innocence than with trying to comfort Josh.
He stared into his coffee cup as if he could see an answer in its depths. Finally, he began to talk, almost more to himself than to her. “One of my friends got a new stereo system and I went to his house to see it. He picked me up because Dad said he might need the car later.”
“For what?” Teri asked sharply.
“He didn’t say. In fact, I didn’t even notice that he said he might need the car. It was the sheriff last night who jumped on the word. I don’t think it’s important. Dad probably just said that because he didn’t like for me to argue with him, and he wanted me to realize that if I moved out like I planned, I wouldn’t have it as easy as I did living with him.” Josh half-smiled. “He didn’t want to live alone after being with me and my mother for so long, although he and Ma didn’t really get along. I guess you know all about them, though.”
“No, Josh, I don’t know anything about your parents’ relationship,” Teresa said carefully, remembering how Josh had looked when Gus had been talking to her about his feelings for young Marielle.
“Well, he wasn’t happy with her and he tried to hide it, but he couldn’t. Ma was real resentful. Bitter. Hurt.” Josh looked directly into Teresa’s eyes. “I don’t blame her.”
Teresa felt acutely embarrassed, as if she were overhearing an argument between Gus and his wife, Sarah. She didn’t understand why Josh was telling her this. Maybe there was no purpose, she thought. Maybe Josh, still shocked, was simply rambling.
Then Josh suddenly leaned forward. “Do you think the person who was on your porch night before last and left the night-light murdered my father?”
Teri had the impression Josh was trying to startle an admission from her—if not a verbal response, then a physical one that would betray her knowledge about what had happened to Gus. But she had no actual knowledge—only doubt and fear.
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