Vicious (12 page)

Jordan stared up at him. “Why?”

“I’d like to show you something.” Shaffer backed away from the car. His hand went on the gun holster again.

Jordan swallowed hard; then he opened his door and climbed out of the car.

Eyes narrowed, the deputy stared down at his muddy shoes. “What happened there?”

Jordan gave an uneasy shrug, and he stomped his feet. “Yeah, kind of a mess, isn’t it? Taking that back road on the way here, I got stuck in the mud. I had to get out and push.”

The deputy frowned. “Well, Jordan, I guess you should have taken that as a sign and turned back, because you’re in a lot of trouble. Trespassing is a serious offense. I’m afraid I’ll have to haul you in and book you.”

“What?” Jordan murmured, dazed.

Deputy Shaffer burst out laughing. “Ha, you should see the look on your face! I’m fucking with you, man!”

Jordan could barely work up a smile. For a moment, it had felt as if his heart had stopped. He was having a hard time figuring out this guy.

Nudging him, the deputy swaggered toward the back of Jordan’s Honda Civic. “Take a gander at this left tire back here. It’s getting pretty low. That’s what you get for driving down these rough back roads. Better have it checked soon.”

“I will, thank you,” Jordan nodded. “So—you aren’t giving me a ticket or anything?”

“Not this time,” Deputy Shaffer said with a friendly smile. “But don’t come back here, okay? Sheriff Fischer has got a bug up his butt about this place because some of the high school kids come here to do drugs.”

He stopped to gaze at the deserted building. Most of the first floor was boarded up. The ragged blinds in the second floor’s broken windows flapped in the autumn breeze. “I hate patrolling this old dump,” Shaffer said. “Gives me the royal creeps, y’know?”

Jordan didn’t answer. He thought he heard a knock—coming from his trunk. He wondered if Deputy Shaffer had heard it, too.

With his elbow, the deputy nudged him again. “Anyway, be glad it’s me and not Fischer catching you here, because that old hard-ass would have thrown the book at you.”

“Thanks for cutting me a break,” Jordan said. “So—is it okay if I go now? I should probably get back to my friends—”

Jordan heard it again—a knock and then some rumbling from inside his trunk. He wandered away from the back of the car, hoping to draw Shaffer from the source of the noise.

The deputy moved with Jordan toward the driver’s door. “So—where did you leave these guests of yours while you went on this sorry expedition?”

“Well, um, they went for a walk in the woods,” Jordan explained. Any minute now, he expected Meeker to start pounding and banging against the trunk’s lid. “But they should be back soon. I really ought to get going….”

“Wait a sec,” Deputy Schaffer said. “Did you hear something?”

Jordan started to shake his head. But then he did hear a noise, and it wasn’t coming from the trunk of his Honda Civic. It was a static-laced announcement on the radio of Shaffer’s police car. The words were all fuzzy and muddled together.

“Oh, shit, just a second,” Shaffer said. He turned and hurried back to his patrol car. He climbed in the front seat.

Watching him, Jordan stood by his own car, his fingers poised on the door handle. He heard the knocking and rustling again. Allen Meeker had regained consciousness inside the Honda Civic’s small trunk. No doubt, he could hear the police radio, too. He had to know help was very near. The pounding started.

Jordan’s whole body tensed up as he walked back toward the police car. Passing his Honda’s trunk, he could hear Meeker’s muffled screams, and then more pounding and kicking. He stood by the cop’s door.

“Okay, gotcha, see you there, over and out,” Corey Shaffer was saying into the dashboard mike. Then he hung it up. He started jotting something on a clipboard.

“Is it cool if I take off?” Jordan asked. He could still hear the pounding and kicking, but Meeker had some competition from the flapping blinds in the second-floor windows of the plant. Jordan stole a glance at his Civic. The car was rocking up and down in the back.

“Yeah, go ahead, scram, Jordan.” The deputy tossed aside his pen and clipboard. “But I’m beating you out of here. I have an emergency. Some babe on Birch Way has her panties in a twist over a Peeping Tom.”

“Is she okay?” Jordan asked, thinking of the pretty brunette with the little boy.

Shaffer nodded tiredly. “Stuart’s with her at Rosie’s right now. I tell ya, it’s always something. See ya, dude.” He shut his door.

Jordan stepped back as the cop peeled around the wobbling Honda Civic. He watched the patrol car speed down the Chemerica Corporation access road.

The knocking and pounding continued from inside the trunk of his car. Jordan lumbered toward it, then rested his hand on the lid. He felt the vibrations. “You can kick and kick all you want, asshole,” he growled. “It’s just you and me here. There’s no one to save you.”

The pounding stopped. Then there was just whimpering.

Jordan leaned closer to the lid. “Did you hear what that cop said back there in his car?” Jordan asked, his voice cracking. “Did you hear where he’s going? A woman’s in trouble on Birch Way. Does that sound familiar?”

The pounding and muffled pleading started up again—more intense than ever. But Jordan ignored it.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he climbed inside his car, started up the engine, and prepared himself for the rough road ahead.

“I wasn’t even in the house when you took a shower this morning,” Leo said. He swatted at a bush along the path through the woods.

Moira studied Leo’s face as she walked beside him. She could usually tell if he was lying, because he always blinked a lot and tilted his head to one side. She got the head tilt, but no blinking, so she couldn’t be sure if he’d given her an honest answer or not.

Leo had obviously made an effort to clean up nicely today. His unruly brown hair was combed, and he wore a sage-color V-neck sweater she’d once mentioned looked good on him. Moira figured he was hoping for something to happen during this woodland hike—maybe a surprise birthday make-out session or something.

She’d planned to keep him on this outing until at least one o’clock, so Jordan could pick up the cake and get the house decorated. But the way Leo was acting, it might as well have been his idea that Jordan get lost so he and she could sneak off by themselves. An hour before, when they’d first ventured down the forest path, he’d tried to put his arm around her. She’d carefully wiggled away. She didn’t want to encourage him or give him the wrong idea. Yet several times along the way, he’d taken hold of her hand. And she always found some excuse to pull away after a moment. She’d smooth back her hair or point to something in the woods and make a comment.

Moira was pretty certain he’d peeked at her while she was showering this morning. He and Jordan had gotten up earlier, had their Cap’n Crunch and coffee, and then gone out for a walk. While still in bed, Moira had heard them leave. She’d figured she ought to pull herself together before they returned. Her fantasies about sleeping with Jordan Prewitt did not include him seeing her after she’d just woken up.

So Moira crawled out of bed, brushed her teeth, and jumped in the shower. There was no lock on the bathroom door, which made her a little uneasy. Ever since seeing
Psycho
, she was wary about showering in an otherwise empty house and always locked the door. After last night’s scare, she was even more skittish. The plastic shower curtain was transparent—with blue and green cartoon fish on it. So Moira kept an eye on the bathroom door while she showered. But after getting soap in her eyes twice, she decided she was being silly. She finally started to relax and enjoy her shower. Her back was to the curtain when she saw a strange shadow on the tile wall in front of her. Automatically covering herself, she swiveled around. “Who’s there?” she asked in a panic. Through the transparent shower curtain, she caught a glimpse of the bathroom door just as it was closing.

Unnerved, Moira shut off the water and quickly wrapped a towel around her. She was wet—with conditioner still in her hair. But she stepped out of the tub and went to the bathroom door, leaving a trail of water footprints. She opened the door a crack. “Who’s there?” she demanded. Tightly clutching the towel, she stepped out to the corridor. “You guys? Jordan? Leo? Are you home?”

She waited a few moments. No answer. She heard floorboards creaking—then footsteps on the stairs. There was someone else in the house—again. She realized that last night was no fluke. It was real. Gooseflesh covered her bare, wet skin.

“Jordan? Leo?” she called, backing toward the bathroom.

“Did you just yell for us?” she heard Jordan ask.

“Oh, God,” Moira gasped, slumping against the wall.

Jordan stepped around the corner at the end of the hallway. An iPod was clipped to his belt, and he had the earphones on. “Oops, sorry….” He shielded his eyes.

“Were you or Leo just in here?” she asked.

“You mean in the bathroom?” he asked, lowering his hand away from his eyes. “I was in the one downstairs, but not up here. I think Leo’s still outside. We just got back—like a minute ago. What’s going on?”

Moira let out a long sigh. “Nothing, I—I thought someone came into the bathroom while I was in the shower.”

Jordan shook his head. “Not me, not without an invitation.”

She managed a smile and then ducked back into the bathroom. She went to lock the door behind her and realized once again that it had no lock.

Moira hadn’t said anything to either one of them about her little scare last night. She figured either they were playing an extended prank on her—or she was just nervous about being in a strange house in the middle of nowhere. She wasn’t completely giving up on the first explanation. Teenage boys were always punking each other. They could have decided to frighten her for a good laugh.

Or maybe Leo had thought scaring her was one way to make her more clingy and submissive this weekend. Was that his tactic?
Oh, Leo, I’m so scared, I can’t sleep in that big bed alone tonight. Will you come to bed with me?

Walking alongside him in the woods, she was still trying to read his expression. “Are you sure you didn’t just happen to open the bathroom door and stick your head in for a free peek?” she asked.

“Jeez, I told you,
no
,” Leo said. “You think I’m so hard up that I’m sneaking peeks at you in the shower and then lying when you ask me about it? God, get over yourself, Moira.”

“Well, somebody opened the door while I was in there. I didn’t imagine it.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was Jordan.”

Shoving his hands in his pocket, Leo grunted. “Huh, you wish.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, indignant.

“It means you’ve got the hots for my best friend, and you’re probably hoping the feeling is mutual. And I think that really sucks.”

She squinted at him. “I don’t have
the hots
for Jordan. What are you talking about?”

“Oh, now who’s the liar?” he grumbled. “I saw the way you were looking at him last night, the way you were acting around him. How do you think that makes me feel? I’ve been—
campaigning
to win you over for a year now, hoping you’ll eventually come around. You treat me like your stupid little puppy dog or something. You’ve got me following you around. You call me up when you’re lonely or can’t get some guy you
really like
to take you out—”

“That’s not fair,” she argued.

Leo started to walk faster, and Moira grabbed his arm to stop him. “I’ve been honest with you from the start, Leo,” she said, her eyes wrestling with his. “I like you. I like you a lot. I don’t want to ruin a good friendship. My feelings for you are strictly—”

“Strictly platonic,” he finished for her. He yanked his arm away from her. “Yeah, I know. You’ve told me that before, and it’s emasculating.”

Moira said nothing. She didn’t even know he used words like
emasculating
.

Leo gave the ground a kick. “Just once, I wish you knew how it felt. In fact, huh, you want to hear something?”

“I’m not sure I do,” she admitted.

“Jordan’s not interested in you—not at all, not even
platonically
, Moira.”

She stared at him, wondering if it was true. After all, Jordan had kissed her hand last night. If that wasn’t flirting with her, then what was?

“I asked him this morning,” Leo said. “I told him to be honest, because he knows how I feel about you. And get this—he knows you’re hot for him—”

“Did you tell him that?” she asked, raising her voice.

“No, he figured it out. It’s obvious, Moira. I could see it last night—when I was getting over my diabetic episode, and hell, I was half out of it! You couldn’t stop looking at him. Jordan said you made him uncomfortable. He said it was embarrassing. He told me, ‘She’s not my type.’”

Moira frowned at him. “Okay, now you’re just being hurtful.”

He shook his head at her. “You want to talk about hurting? How do you think I feel, Moira? Shit, it’s my birthday, and you won’t even let me hold your goddamn hand.”

She started to walk away, but then stopped and turned toward him. “Well, if I’m such an
emasculating
bitch and your friend thinks I’m an
embarrassment
, why the hell did you invite me here for the weekend? Why are you even walking with me right now?”

“I’m wondering the same damn thing,” Leo shot back.

“Fine, then just leave me alone,” Moira retorted, tears in her eyes. She turned and stomped away, deeper into the forest.

“Okay, listen, listen,” she heard him groan. “I’m sorry, Moira. I didn’t mean to make you cry—”

“I mean it, leave me the fuck alone!” she screamed. Her voice seemed to echo through the trees. She started running up the forest trail, swatting at stray branches in her path. She almost stumbled over the roots of a tall cedar and grabbed on to the trunk to keep from falling.

Moira caught her breath and wiped the tears away. Gazing back at the trail snaking through the thick forest, she saw no sign of Leo. She heard leaves rustling in the distance, but the sound seemed to be fading.

Then, closer, some twigs snapped.

“Leo?” she called. “I’m serious. I need you to leave me alone!”

Glancing at all the trees and bushes looming around her, Moira tried to spot where her friend might be hiding.

“Leo?” she called out once more.

No response.

She stood by the towering cedar for another few moments. Part of her wanted to find Leo and smooth things over. But how could she explain it to him?
I didn’t want to hold your hand, because that would have been leading you on, and then you’d think I was a tease. I can’t help it if I’m not attracted to you that way. And yes, I like your best friend. I can’t help that either….

What did it matter? Leo was furious at her, and Jordan found her interest in him embarrassing.

She had a weird thought about how sorry they’d be if she got lost in these woods and was missing for hours and hours. It was such a juvenile notion—like when she was a kid running away from home, mostly to worry her parents.

Yet a part of her truly wanted to disappear for a while—to shut out everything and everyone else.

Moira gazed at the path she’d been taking—the one that led back to the cabin.

Then she started walking in the opposite direction.

“All right, Ms. Blanchette,” the sheriff said on the other end of the line. “You stay put there at Rosie’s, and I’ll be by in about five minutes. Over and out.”

Susan heard a click. “Okay, thanks,” she said to no one. Then she hung up the receiver and slid the desk phone closer to the clerk’s side of the counter at Rosie’s Roadside Sundries.

One elbow resting on top of the lottery ticket machine, Rosie was watching Mattie in the small play area near the back door. She glanced over her shoulder at Susan. “The sheriff on his way?” she asked.

Susan nodded. “Thanks for letting me use the phone—and watching Mattie. I owe you big-time.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure looking after this one,” she replied, with a nod toward Mattie. “Y’know, I bet you had a wayward hunter poking around your backyard earlier, that’s all. Some of these guys are absolutely nuts. They start chasing after a deer, and totally forget where the heck they are. You want anything?”

Susan shook her head. “No, thanks.” She moved down to the end of the counter, closer to Rosie. She could see Mattie on the multicolored plastic jungle gym in the little play area. “Sheriff Fischer said he’d be here in five minutes.”

“If Stuart Fischer tells you five minutes, you can expect him in ten,” Rosie said out of one side of her mouth. “Unless it’s a major emergency, which I haven’t seen in my seven years working here—with one notable exception—the sheriff always takes his sweet time. So…get comfortable, honey.”

Susan nervously drummed her fingers on the counter. “The one notable exception,” she said. “Was that the missing person case last year?”

“Oh, then you heard about that,” Rosie said soberly. She nodded. “They never did find her, the poor thing. I was the last one to see her before she disappeared, a very sweet girl, too. She stopped into the store on a Friday afternoon, and the sheriff came across her abandoned car that same night. You wouldn’t believe how many detectives and policemen and special investigators were through here asking me questions. And all I could tell them was the same thing, over and over again. She drove up, came in alone, bought some stuff, left alone, and then she drove away.” She gave Susan a sidelong glance. “You sure I can’t get you anything, honey?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, you might be able to help me,” Susan replied, lowering her voice so Mattie couldn’t hear. “Did a good-looking man with silver-black hair come in here a little over an hour ago?”

Rosie squinted at her. “Nice dresser, about thirty-five?”

Susan nodded. “Yes, that’s him, that’s Allen. He’s my fiancé.”

“Well, well, congratulations, honey. He’s a looker.”

“So—he was here?”

Rosie nodded again. “Yes, ma’am, he stopped in at around—eleven forty-five. He bought some sunblock lotion….”

“And that’s it?” Susan asked. “Did he ask for anything else? I mean, something you might not have had, something he’d need to go into town for?”

“Nope,” Rosie replied, shaking her head.

Susan sighed. “I’m sorry to be asking all these dumb questions, but the thing of it is, he never came home.”

“Oh, dear,” Rosie murmured. “And then this business with the hunter. No wonder you’re on edge, you poor thing.”

“Did he say anything to you about where he was headed—anything at all?”

Rosie fingered the glasses on a chain around her neck. “Hmm, just that he needed the sunblock because he was going sailing this afternoon.”

“Was there anyone else in the store who might have talked to him?”

“Yes, there was another customer, Jordy Prewitt, a nice young man from Seattle. His folks have a cabin on Cedar Crest Way, not too far from where you are—”

“Was he in the store yesterday—with some friends?” Susan asked. “I spoke with a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy….”

“Yes, that’s Jordy. He was here again today, when your fiancé dropped by. But I don’t think they talked at all. Jordy was feeling sick, and he left rather quickly.”

“So there was no one else in the store when Allen left? No one who might have talked to him or seen which way he was headed?”

Rosie shrugged. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could be more help. He just drove up, came in alone, bought some sunblock—”