by VK Powell
In one swift motion, Sheri pulled Emma to her and kissed her hard. Her tongue parted Emma’s lips and stroked the softness inside.
I don’t want this. Emma felt no sexual stirrings, but her mind was spinning its own fantasy. Sheri actually wanted her again. The difference was this time Emma wanted Sheri to want her, to beg her to come back, and then she’d refuse.
Carter’s face flashed through her mind. Carter’s hands stroked her body, and Carter’s kisses covered her neck. She felt the warm invitation of Carter’s arms and their soothing effect. Carter’s trust, so fragile, so elusive, snatched her back from the brink of deception.
Emma pushed Sheri away. “Stop. I don’t want this.”
“Of course you do. I felt it in your kiss for the first time. You’re hot.”
“For someone else.”
Sheri got very still and stared her down. “What did you say?”
“It doesn’t matter. You cheated at least four times, and we’d only been together a year.”
“I don’t know who’s feeding you that crap, but it’s not true. I—”
“Sheri, stop. If you can’t be honest with me, don’t say anything.” Emma played her bluff, scooting closer to Sheri on the sofa. She stared into the deep-brown eyes and raked her fingers through Sheri’s black, close-cropped hair. She hated the deception, but she had to know the truth.
Sheri’s eyes shifted down and her head bowed. “Okay. I wasn’t exactly faithful, but I was just trying to get your attention. You didn’t seem interested in sex, at all. I thought if I made you a little jealous, you might come around. The others didn’t mean anything, really.”
The simultaneous joy and sorrow of being right struck Emma like the backside of a hand. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sheri. It meant you didn’t care enough to be faithful or honest. It meant you made a fool of me, and I was so desperate for affection that I let you. It meant we didn’t belong together—then or now. That’s what it meant, and thanks for helping me see it.”
This time when Sheri’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open, she didn’t quickly recover. “But Emma…I really…lo—”
“Don’t say you love me. It’s an insult to the meaning of the word.”
“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry, baby.” Sheri actually sounded contrite.
Emma had thought about their relationship since she’d been at the park and realized some things about herself. If she expected honesty, she had to give it as well. “It wasn’t all you, Sheri. I have to take my share of responsibility too. I wasn’t totally honest either. You’re basically a good person, but we’re not right for each other. I’m sorry if that hurts. I’m not in love with you, and that’s why I wasn’t into the sex. I’ve only recently realized that it matters to me.” She rose from the sofa and motioned toward the door. “Now, I’d like you to go, and don’t come back.”
Emma escorted Sheri out, and they stood on the porch watching moonlight sparkle on the lake. This was supposed to have been a new beginning for them, not the end. The angry response she’d expected from Sheri didn’t come. The energy between them was finally free of the push-and-pull of expectation and disappointment.
“I’m sorry, Emma. I think I’ve known for a while we weren’t right. Guess it would’ve been easier to tell the truth. May I kiss you good-bye? You really are a wonderful woman.”
Emma didn’t resist when Sheri’s arms encircled her and pulled them together. She inhaled as their lips met and waited for some sign that she was making a mistake. Instead she felt only a slight change in temperature when their lips parted. The absence of emotion confirmed she’d never really loved Sheri.
“Okay, guess I’ll go. Thanks for listening.” Sheri stepped back, lost her footing at the top of the steps, and stumbled forward into Emma’s arms again.
Emma’s conscience kicked in. “Sheri?”
“Yes.” She looked up at Emma with her most innocent expression.
“Are you kidding around, or are you drunk?”
“I think I might actually be drunk. I polished off a six-pack while I was waiting.”
Sometimes Emma hated having a conscience. She desperately wanted Sheri to leave so she could think about Carter and the murder, but she couldn’t let Sheri drive drunk. She wouldn’t treat her worst enemy like that. “You’re in no condition to be on the road for two hours. I hate how you’ve treated me, but I don’t want you hurt.”
Sheri smiled and hooked her arm through Emma’s.
“Don’t get any ideas. You’re sleeping on the sofa.”
The sound of a car engine revving in the distance drew Emma’s attention to the terraced hillside behind her cabin.
“Go inside and get ready for bed. You’ll find an extra T-shirt on top of my suitcase and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom cabinet. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Emma watched the dark vehicle with no headlights moving slowly along the path. She backed up against the cabin and peered around the corner. Her pulse pounded and her breathing sounded like a siren. If this was the car that tried to run her off the road earlier, she wanted to get a license plate or at least a better description.
The vehicle passed through a small stand of trees into a clearing and was illuminated by moonlight. Emma held her breath. She should’ve been relieved when she saw the green Jeep and white circular emblem of the park service, but instead she almost wished for the attacker. Two women were visible inside—Donovan and Carter. Donovan had been clear about her intention to advance her relationship with Carter, and she’d wasted no time making her move.
Had Carter seen her and Sheri kiss? If so, what would she be thinking? She’d already seen Donovan partially dressed on her porch and now this. No wonder Carter didn’t trust her. After the Jeep left, Emma stood on the porch watching and listening as the night deepened. Normally the serenity would’ve comforted her, but tonight it only exaggerated the distance and miscommunication between her and Carter.
*
“Do you believe me now? I told you that was her girlfriend,” Donovan said, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Carter shifted uncomfortably as she watched Emma kiss another woman on the porch and go back inside the cabin with her. “And what does that have to do with me?” She tried to sound blasé but felt gutted, even though Emma had said she didn’t love Sheri. “She hasn’t been honest since the day she got here. I’m just grateful I didn’t get involved with her.” Her heart wasn’t buying Emma’s easy dismissal, and she needed to change the subject before the pain permeated her pores like perspiration.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Donovan stroked the back of Carter’s neck and moved closer to the gearshift dividing the seats.
“Absolutely. I saw you naked on her front porch yesterday. No biggie.”
“You know I wouldn’t. I mean, I would, but I didn’t. It was strictly business.”
Carter’s relief had nothing to do with feelings for Donovan and everything to do with the fact Billie hadn’t touched Emma. But now, this Sheri person had returned. Why were these women showing up now? Carter wasn’t jealous, but her trust issues were going into overdrive. Was this situation some kind of test for Emma…or for her?
“Carter, are you listening?”
“Yeah, yeah.” She wanted to talk to Emma, not sit here and wonder what was going on inside her cabin or listen to Billie wax nostalgic about their trysts.
“After our retraining session last year, I asked for a reassignment and was just transferred to the Richmond office. When this case came up, I volunteered. The relocation will make seeing each other easier than driving three hours to Charlottesville.”
Did she want to see Billie more often? “Does that mean you’re single now?” Carter was interested in Donovan’s answer for purely academic reasons because when they’d hooked up the first time, Donovan had concealed the fact she was in a relationship. This time Carter wanted to be sure of the boundaries and of Donovan’s motives. She always had an agenda.
“Billie, I told you I wasn’t into long term, and I was honest about why. My situation hasn’t changed.” Was she as callous as Billie sounded? She behaved basically the same, leaving when a relationship became serious, but she’d never cheated on anyone.
“I know. Your aunt. She shouldn’t keep us from having some fun now, right?” She ran her hand up Carter’s thigh.
“Of course not.” Carter moved Donovan’s hand and reached for the keys. “Sometime.”
“I’ve thought about you often and wondered if you’re involved with anyone. I’m afraid I might be too late.”
Carter put on her I-don’t-give-a-shit expression. “If you mean Emma Ferguson, you’re way off base. She’s become fast friends with Ann, but she’s digging for information about Thompson’s murder. I’ve warned Ann to stay clear, but she can be so bullheaded sometimes.”
“Do you think Emma’s trying to make a connection between Ann and this case?”
Carter had been plagued by the same question for days but wasn’t ready to admit it to anyone else. “She can’t because there’s nothing to connect. Ann had absolutely nothing to do with that man’s death. She couldn’t have.” Carter tone was vehement, almost desperate, and she looked at Donovan for reassurance.
“Of course she couldn’t. Don’t worry, Carter. Emma is heading in the wrong direction on this—straight toward Ann. You know how reporters are, always angling for the next headline. I’ve never met a trustworthy one. I’ll clear the case as soon as possible. Trust me.” Donovan placed her hand over Carter’s and gave a light squeeze as they patrolled the park.
“I’m glad you’re here, Billie.” A nagging feeling settled in the back of Carter’s mind, but she pushed it aside. Maybe a tumble with Billie was just what she needed to distract her from Emma and this whole mess. She knew how Billie operated, and Carter would manage the situation this time. No harm, no foul.
“I was hoping you would be.”
“As long as we both know where we stand.” Donovan caressed the top of Carter’s shoulder and lightly brushed her breast as she dropped her hand. Carter barely noticed as her thoughts returned to Emma kissing another woman. Carter was supposed to be the one who didn’t get involved. Why did she care? They’d shared one night, and that was usually enough for her, but she’d been initially won over by Emma’s honesty, endearing clumsiness, and her almost tangible layer of vulnerability. Nothing about Emma fit Carter’s normal pattern, and that made her different, special, and unforgettable.
Carter rolled down the window, and the cool air rushed in around her. Could she have sex with Billie again? Their affair had always been easy and enjoyable, no attachments. She looked over at the eager blonde beside her. Carter was willing to try anything to fill the emptiness that bore Emma’s name.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, while Sheri slept on the sofa, Emma thought about events of the past several days. Who was trying to kill her and why? Was anyone still alive who knew the truth about Theodore Thompson’s murder? What was Ann’s involvement? What was really keeping Emma and Carter apart? She glanced toward her sleeping ex. Was she so desperate for a relationship that she’d accept crumbs from a person incapable of commitment?
When Sheri woke, they ate a quick toast-and-egg breakfast with a side of stilted conversation. Emma repeatedly checked her watch while Sheri showered, dressed, and finally left. She breathed her first sigh of genuine relief when the red convertible disappeared over the ridge near the ranger station.
It was nearly noon, but she still ached with exhaustion. She’d slept little with Sheri in the other room, on edge as if a stranger had invaded her space. She’d been emotional all morning, near tears one minute and angry the next. She couldn’t separate the feelings of being run off the road from Carter’s distancing, Donovan’s planned seduction of Carter, and Sheri’s reappearance. The emotions muddled together and left her lethargic.
She laid her case notes out on the sofa and coffee table and reread each one, praying for a clue that had escaped her notice. The deputy had documented his sparse statements in a most haphazard fashion. If he’d ever been trained in investigations or even report-taking, it wasn’t evident in his work. She’d felt just as frustrated about her father’s case while plowing through accounts of his mysterious disappearance. The feelings of failure this case resurrected irritated Emma. After several passes, her vision blurred and her eyelids drooped. The writing grew fuzzy, dimmed, and eventually disappeared.
*
Emma bolted upright on the sofa, and papers flew overhead like swooping gulls. She struggled to open her eyes, grappling among the scattered pages for her ringing cell phone. She shoved a stack of documents aside, and the phone skidded across the floor. Chasing it, she smashed her toe into the corner of the table. “Holy crap.” She held her toe with one hand and flipped open the phone with the other. “Yes. This is Emma Ferguson.”
“Emma, where are you? I thought you’d be here by now. This is your big day.”
“My what? Who is this?” Emma fell back on the sofa and glanced at her watch. Five o’clock in the afternoon?
“It’s Harriett Smoltz. Are you all right? You sound funny.”
“Hi, Harriett. Long story. What’s up?”
“You better get over here before somebody else scoops your story. You’ve worked too hard to have that happen.”
Emma’s head was spinning from the abrupt awakening, her toe pain, and what seemed to be an urgent message from Harriett. “Slow down. Get where? What’s going on?”
“The bleached-blond BCI agent has hauled a suspect in for questioning in the Thompson murder case. There’s quite a crowd at the sheriff’s office.”
Emma ran toward the bedroom, toe pain forgotten. “A suspect? You have to be kidding. Who is it? Do you know?”
“Of course I know.” Harriett sounded insulted by the question. “It’s Ann West, of all people. Can you imagine?”
Emma’s cell phone was still falling when she reached for her clothes and struggled into them. She picked it up on her way out, but Harriett had disconnected.
Emma forced herself to breathe slowly and think as she sped toward town. If Ann was being questioned as a suspect, Donovan had probably discovered more evidence. The possibility of Ann’s involvement wasn’t so wild, but Emma had spent the last few days ignoring it. She’d desperately wanted to believe she was wrong. She prided herself on being thorough, but had she missed something important?
Donovan had efficiently conducted all the interviews in two days that it had taken Emma several to accomplish. Donovan had followed the facts to a logical inference, while Emma, distracted by her attraction to Carter, had searched for facts leading away from Ann. Her father had stressed the importance of objectivity in journalism. She’d strayed from the concept and would have disappointed him.
As she approached the small wood-framed building that served as the sheriff’s office, Emma saw a group of people standing outside pushing and shoving for a chance to peer into the windows. The town center was blocked, so she parked two streets away and ran back. She elbowed her way through the crowd toward the door. As she reached for the handle, she heard raised but inaudible voices from inside. Someone grabbed her shoulder.
“Emma. Over here.” Harriett pulled her to the side just away from the surging crowd. “That mob could trample you. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Her amorphous body seemed to vibrate with excitement. “I’m glad you made it. Things have been heating up in there for hours. Sounds like quite a ruckus.” Harriett’s eyes narrowed, her gray hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her sack dress swished around her in the breeze as she stepped closer to Emma. “So, why didn’t you tell me the case was closed?”
Emma ignored the question and moved back to the door. “I don’t have time
for this, Harriett.” When she stepped inside the office, Sheriff Echols, Agent Donovan, Ann, and Carter glared at her with stares that challenged an arctic freeze. The silence deafened her.
“What’s going on here?”
Sheriff Echols took a step toward her. “You more than anyone should be able to answer that question. After all, you started this whole fiasco.”
Emma looked past Echols to the others. Donovan’s expression was almost blank except for a slight crinkling around her eyes that Emma interpreted as smug self-satisfaction. Ann’s eyes lacked their usual sparkle, the corners of her mouth turned sharply down, and she was uncharacteristically quiet. Carter refused to make eye contact.
“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Emma searched the group for one sympathetic face. Only Ann gave her an occasional sideways glance. Emma had become the bad guy.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Ann moved closer to Emma, shaking off Carter’s attempt to stop her. “This Barbie-doll look-a-like hauled me off the job this morning before the rooster crowed, spouting about some evidence you supposedly provided.”
Carter tried again to pull Ann back. “Would you please be quiet for once in your life and do as you’re told?”
Ann spun out of her reach and pointed at Donovan. “Told by whom, this Angie Dickinson wannabe? I don’t think so. We don’t even know her. What if she’s the one with the hidden agenda? This is my life, and I have a right to speak. So step back, Carter.”
“Billie was only doing her job, Ann. You can’t blame her.”
Emma stared in disbelief as Carter defended Donovan. So, it was Billie now, huh? It hadn’t taken Donovan long to turn Carter’s head. Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
Sheriff Echols waved his arms for everyone to quiet down. “Agent Donovan brought Ann in for questioning, as is her right. No charges have been filed. A lot of other folks in town will probably be put through the same thing before this is over.” Echols shot Donovan a look and his brow arched.