by Beverly Bird
“You said Billy doesn’t do that,” he reminded her.
“He’s an animal. He’s got whims. Nothing is carved in granite.”
“You’re missing one thing.”
“The candle snuffer? They’re delicate. I could have broken it myself.”
But Sam shook his head. “Officer Needles said your kitchen doorknob had been scratched.”
She cleaned a lot. Had she done that, too? She was just so grateful to finally have a place of her own. Had she tidied up the workbench downstairs? She couldn’t remember anymore!
Agitated, she left the bed. She drove her fingers into her hair.
“Nice view,” Sam said, grinning.
She looked down at herself, startled. She was naked—and she didn’t even care. Part of it was that he felt as right in her world as her own skin. Part of it was that she was too terrified to fret over something so silly. “Sam, nothing was taken!” she blurted out.
He sobered as he realized that she was talking about her apartment again. “If the intent was to scare you, nothing would have been.”
She’d never realized that he could be so patient, so pragmatic, so calm in the face of disaster. Then again, maybe she had. He’d been this way in the underground room, too. He’d held her together.
Now he was infuriating her because he refused to understand.
“There’s no proof!” she declared hotly. “I want proof! I have nothing, Sam, nothing I can hold in my hand and say, see, this is real. This is truly happening. Maybe it’s all like Jared said.”
He tucked his chin. “Jared?”
Her damned tongue again, Cait thought. It had a mind of its own lately. She stared at him without answering, her heart slamming hard.
“Tell me about Jared,” Sam suggested.
“No.”
“Jared as in Cross?”
“There are several Jareds in the hospital.”
“Not to my knowledge. And who mentioned the hospital?”
She couldn’t defend her secrets when her mind was in shreds. “I saw him, okay? I went to him after what happened to us.”
Sam laughed. “So did I.”
Cait gaped at him. “You did? Why?”
“Because I couldn’t get you off my mind. I thought he could fix me. He failed spectacularly.”
Her legs crumpled. Cait sat where she stood. “Don’t say that.”
“You asked. Why did you go to him?”
“Because I was feeling…out of sorts.”
“Mentally?” He circled his index finger at his temple. “Or because you still wanted me, too?”
“Stop it! Will you just stop and take this seriously?”
Sam sobered. “Cait, I will very rarely do that in my life. I’m sorry.”
He seemed to be saying so much more than she meant, but she let it go. “He said I might dream,” she said hoarsely.
“And you think tonight was a dream?”
“It started while I was sleeping.”
“Were you sleepwalking in your kitchen before you called me?”
“No.”
“Then that part wasn’t a dream. Did you hear him then?”
She had, she remembered. But did that mean anything? She’d thought she’d seen the note when she was wide awake, too. “I can’t even prove that was real. I flushed it away.”
She felt a tremor go through her as soon as she heard her own words. The room felt cold, then hot. She wanted to reach out with her hand and snatch them back.
“What?” he asked almost too quietly. “You flushed what?”
“Just something else I imagined.”
“Imagined how, where, when and in what context?”
Oh, yes, she thought, his joie de vivre hid a steel-trap mind. He took nothing seriously—he was right about that—except the things that mattered.
She had a sickening sense of doors closing on her, trapping her with her own evasions. Then she remembered something another child had taught her once in one of the foster homes. When you lie, keep it as close to the truth as possible. Then you’re not as likely to screw it up.
She was going to lose Sam, anyway. Sooner or later. But not now, here, tonight. She couldn’t bear it. She would tell him about the note, but not what it had said.
“I found a piece of paper in my locker, at the hospital. Something was written on it.”
“What?”
“It was just a vague threat. I don’t know. I was shaken up. I don’t remember.” She covered her eyes with a hand, every pore, every cell in her body caught in an agony of shame and regret for the lie.
“And you flushed it away?”
Cait nodded. Then, when she looked up again, she lost her breath for a moment. He was furious.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this?” he demanded.
“Because it’s my problem.”
“And you’re my problem.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Damn it, don’t twist my words.”
“I think they speak for themselves.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Sam, I really don’t.”
“You were mine to protect and I didn’t.”
“You saved my life in that room!” She screamed it. She had never known she was capable of screaming before. Her words bounced off the walls, then she realized she was crying again. “You kept me alive,” she whispered, her voice breaking and softening. “You were exactly what I needed. Are you crazy? If you had acted like some kind of madman, if you had tried to beat Hines up or gotten shot, I would never have had a sane thought again in my life. Instead, you were clever and steady. You didn’t let me climb up into the pipes in the ceiling.”
“Cait…” He stared at her.
“Why is that so hard for you to believe?” she continued desperately. “Where do men get the idea that they have to throw punches to be a hero? You used your mind.”
“It didn’t work.”
“It did. Oh, Sam, it did,” she said wretchedly. “You placated Hines, kept him calm, until we were rescued. If you hadn’t been there, he would have killed me. He was vibrating like a piano wire, and I would have done something stupid to set him off.”
She saw something new come into Sam’s eyes. Something curious and inward turning. Something she knew he hadn’t bumped up against before. He’d never realized any of this before.
But he was considering it. She could give him that at least, before this was all over.
She wanted desperately to touch him. She fisted her hands together in her lap, instead, and then she wondered why. Why couldn’t she touch him again? Why couldn’t she reach out to him?
One more time.
Cait stood up shakily. This time she wasn’t trying to hide from the nightmare. This time she wasn’t searching desperately for something to ground her and bring her back to herself. This time she was calm. She crossed to the bed. He looked at her, startled, then he smiled slowly as his eyes raked up and down her nakedness again.
“You’re my hero,” she said quietly.
He reached for her fast, tumbling her down on top of him again.
She straddled him, then braced herself on her hands and knees above him. She did the things he had done to her a short while ago. Because they had felt good and they had made her shiver. She had nothing else to go on.
She ran her tongue under the lobe of his ear, down his throat. She thought she heard him groan, but her blood was pounding in her ears and she couldn’t be sure. She nipped at his chin until he caught her face in his hands and kissed her. She teased his tongue for a moment, then she pulled away to trail butterfly kisses down his chest. His fingers dug into her hair.
She felt energized, empowered, brazen. She lowered herself on him and felt him hard against her and was amazed that he could respond that fast, that sure, for her. Then she shifted her weight and took him inside her.
This time she was the one who cried out his name.
By morning Cait realized tha
t Sam was perfectly willing and able to hold a grudge. When she got out of the shower, she heard him banging things around in her kitchen.
Something shook deep at the core of her over the night they had shared and the fact that he had stayed. Somehow she had never expected him to stay the night, to sleep beside her. Well, on top of her. Her bed had never been meant for two. But they’d fit together just fine.
It made her ache. It made her yearn for more in a way she had not allowed herself to do in a very long time. But now…now he was angry.
“You didn’t trust me,” he said, slamming the door on the microwave hard.
“You’re naked,” she said to change the subject. Then she smiled. There was a gorgeous, naked man in her kitchen and he’d spent the night loving her.
“I wanted coffee. Most American households have coffee. It was an immediate need, so I didn’t bother to get dressed first.”
Cait nodded as though that made all the sense in the world. “You can have the shower now.”
“I don’t want a shower. I want coffee.”
“I don’t have any.”
“I know that.”
“Stop being cranky. You found the tea bags.” He held one in his hand.
“Real men don’t drink tea.”
“Real men smell better after a shower.”
The microwave beeped and he reached in for the cup. It was hot and he swore and snatched his hand back to suck on his thumb. “Damn it, Cait, you didn’t trust me.”
Cait flinched inwardly. “I trusted you a great deal. I gave you all of me.”
Something flared in his eyes. “You know what I mean. You didn’t tell me about the note.”
Something cold settled inside her. “I didn’t tell anyone about it.”
“Why not? That makes no damned sense.”
She scrambled. “Seriously, Sam, who was I going to tell?”
“Me. The police. You’re being threatened.”
“It scared me and I panicked. I flushed it.” She paused, getting a grip on herself. “I couldn’t go to the cops after that because I was afraid it would sound like some cockamamie story I made up.” Oh, the lie was bitter on her tongue. “And I told you the first chance I got.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “Well, we’re telling the police now. I just called Jake White.”
Cait gaped at him. “It’s six o’clock in the morning.”
“I know. The desk sergeant had to wake him up at home to give him my message.”
Cait groaned. Tabitha was going to kill her. Then again, Tabitha was used to cops. Her father had been one.
“He just called me back,” Sam continued, “While you were in the shower. We’re meeting him at the police station at eight o’clock.”
“We’re supposed to be at the hospital at eight o’clock.”
“I called there, too, and told them we’d be late.”
Cait nodded, then the impact of his words rolled over her, robbing her of breath. “Jake called you back here?”
He looked at her oddly. “I didn’t think to grab my cell phone when I raced out of my condo last night to come here. How else was he supposed to get in touch with me?”
“Jake called you back here?” she squealed again.
“Honey, you’re repeating yourself.”
“Then he knows you spent the night here.”
Sam appeared to think about it. “Well, yeah. I guess.”
Cait felt everything inside her fall apart. If Jake knew, then Tabitha knew. And…
Who cared?
She realized, with a heartache that pushed tears into her eyes, that it really didn’t matter anymore. Her privacy was shredded, but she wouldn’t be in Mission Creek long enough for it to make a difference. And that hurt more, far more, than the idea of anyone whispering about her behind her back.
“I’m a Sam Walters woman,” she whispered.
“Honey, you’re a lot more than that.”
Things rocked inside her. She wanted to tell him again not to say such things, yet she couldn’t find the breath. “I’m going to go get dressed.” She clutched her towel a little more tightly around her.
“Don’t do it on my account.”
She glanced back at him, then she turned and threw herself at him. One more time.
Sam caught her and kissed her. He started aiming her back toward the bedroom. “I like the way your mind works. I hate tea, anyway.”
“Mm.”
“But, honey,” he said as he lowered himself on top of her, “we’ve really got to rethink this bed.”
They were silent on the drive to the police station. Cait looked drained. Sam felt overwhelmed. How much more was he supposed to have her before he got over her? Where was that itchy feeling, that sense of panic, the need to escape? It was buried, he thought, beneath a fear for her that nearly left him emasculated.
He parked in the municipal lot beside the police station. It was crowded because officers were gathered for morning roll call. He found himself taking her elbow as they went inside. Protecting her. Because he knew if he lost her now, if anything happened to her, he would die.
His sense of urgency and desperation built as they made their way down the corridor to Jake White’s office. If the man was interested in what had transpired between them last night, it didn’t show. He was drinking from a mug, and the room smelled like coffee. He opened his mouth to greet them, but Sam cut him off.
“Is that caffeine?” He nodded at Jake’s mug. “Real caffeine?”
Jake peered down at the liquid. “In some societies, cop shops being one.”
“Can I have some?”
“There’s the pot right there in the corner. Use the knife beside it if you need to jar the stuff loose.”
Sam poured a cup and drank it black, grinning. “Nectar of the gods.”
Jake lifted a brow. “You’re either hungover or otherwise in a bad way.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “So tell me what’s been going on.”
Cait sat quickly. Her voice faltered a little as she told him about hearing Hines’s voice in her kitchen. She got breathless when she tried to skim over the issue of the note.
“What did it say?” Jake asked sharply, jotting on a legal pad.
“I don’t remember,” Cait said hollowly.
“You don’t remember?”
Sam interjected then and made her feel painfully small. “She panicked and threw it out right away.”
Jake looked skeptical. “Where? Can we get it back? It could have prints on it. There weren’t any on the candle snuffer. For that matter, we might be able to do something with the handwriting.”
“She flushed it,” Sam said. “Look, this obviously has something to do with Branson Hines.”
Jake scowled and sat back in his chair. “Not so obviously.”
“Who the hell else would want to hurt her?”
Jake glanced at Cait. “That was my next question. Do you have any enemies?”
She felt vaguely embarrassed. “I never let myself get close enough to anyone to make enemies.”
Jake glanced between her and Sam, then he finally nodded. “Okay, here’s my problem. I can’t for the life of me figure out how Hines could have been in your kitchen last night when he’s in prison this morning.”
“You’re sure of that?” Sam asked harshly.
“Beyond a doubt. I just spoke to the man myself.”
“You called him?” Cait asked, startled.
“I called the warden and had him rouse Hines out of his cell and put him on the phone so I could hear his voice.”
“This makes no damned sense, then,” Sam growled.
“Tell me about it,” Jake agreed. “One other thing does occur to me. What with you two being an item now and all.”
An item? Cait felt herself flush. “We’re not…I don’t…”
Jake didn’t give her a chance to finish. “How can I put this delicately?” he asked. “You’ve had other items,” he said to Sam.
> Cait felt her skin flame. Another Sam Walters woman. But, God help her, it hadn’t felt like that last night.
“Think any of your exes are ticked off?” Jake asked.
Sam sat back as though the thought stunned him. “Enough to go after Cait?”
“Think about it. I don’t want a knee-jerk answer. I want you to dwell on it and see if any personalities come to mind that might fit this.”
Cait risked a glance at him. He looked murderous. “I will.”
“Well, then.” Jake stood. “I’ll walk you back out to your car.”
Cait got to her feet quickly, as well. “That’s all?”
“Without concrete physical proof, all I can do is trace down a few ideas. See if they pan out.”
It was more or less what she had thought last night. “I’m sorry we wasted your time.”
Jake looked startled. “You didn’t. Someone’s harassing you. It’s my job to figure out who.” They were in the parking lot before he added, “By the way, my wife-to-be advises me that if I don’t corner you two into going out with us this weekend, I’m not welcome over her threshold anytime in the foreseeable future.”
“Sure,” Sam said easily. “What about Friday night?”
Cait felt her heart hurtle. She was going to Laredo on Friday. “I—”
“I’ll clear it with Tabitha and call you,” Jake said.
She couldn’t keep doing this! Last night was one thing. She’d been scared and she’d called her hero. But Friday? Friday her new life started. “I—” she began again.
Sam opened the car door for her. “Cait likes Tex-Mex. A lot.”
“No, I—”
“Coyote Harry’s, then? Good. Sounds like a plan to me. They have a band there on weekends after nine o’clock.”
The car door shut on Cait as she slid onto the seat, trapping her inside. She pressed her hands to her cheeks.
She told herself there was no way she could politely refuse. But she knew in her heart that she didn’t want to. She glanced at Sam as he got behind the wheel. She wanted to have dinner with him Friday night. And Saturday night. She wanted to have breakfast with him Sunday morning.
She was in love with him.
The woman watched them from a car parked on the street in front of the police station. Her gaze lingered on Jake White, then it danced to Cait, then to Sam, as they got into his car. Her anger seethed.