A Hard Man to Forget (17 page)

“And?”

“And this is a police investigation. I’m not sharing
information with you.”

“You don’t have to. The answer has to be no, otherwise
you would have held her for questioning and you wouldn’t be
defending her.” He shot her a look. She smiled in return. “I’m
a court stenographer. I’ve heard enough to know how things
work.”

He shook his head. “Amateurs.”

“She could have been wearing gloves, which she then ditched
along with the gun.”

“No weapon has been found discarded in the woods.” He
sighed, as though belatedly remembering he didn’t want to share
information with her. “Look, I admit that Aimee’s got a
temper. But I just don’t see her lurking in the bushes taking
potshots at anyone. She couldn’t have known what time you were
going to show up here. Sitting around in the woods all morning
waiting for you to show up isn’t her style.”

“It wasn’t exactly a state secret. She could have found
out from one of your deputies.”

“My men know how to keep police business to themselves.”

“Which means that the only people who knew when we’d be
out here really were you and your men.”

Coombs grimaced. “Now you’re starting to sound like
Randall.”

“Maybe he has a point.”

“Or maybe there was someone else who was waiting out there,
someone who, unlike Aimee, doesn’t dress like they’re
going to a nightclub.”

Laura frowned. He was right. Aimee had been severely underdressed for
someone who’d been camped out in the woods waiting to play
sniper. Her outfit had matched her story, that she’d come out
to cozy up to Simon.

“Who else would come after me?”

He arched a brow at her. “You tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, then neither do I. Yet. I mean to find out.”

“Like how you found out what happened to Meredith?”

The words left her mouth before she considered them. Coombs’s
lips tightened around the edges.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I don’t
want to get started on all that again.”

“Meredith killed herself. Randall might not want to accept
that, but you should. There’s no need to go digging all this up
again. A lot of people cared about her and this is only going to
upset them.”

“I’ve been looking for answers for two years, Sheriff.
I’m not going to stop now that I’m actually on to
something.”

“You’re not onto anything but a wild goose chase led by a
guy who can’t see what’s right in front of his face.”

“For someone who doesn’t know what he’s talking
about, he’s making a lot of sense.”

“Even crazy people have their coherent moments.”

Anger rolled through her. “Are you saying Simon is crazy,
Sheriff?”

“I don’t know what he is. But I do know he’s wrong.
Whatever’s happening to you doesn’t make you her.”

“I think I’m going to have to find that out for myself.”

His eyes narrowed to slits. “Look, lady. I don’t know who
you are. I don’t know if you’re trying to pull a scam on
Randall or if you really are clueless. But trust me when I say you
need to stay away from him. He already destroyed Meredith. We all saw
it happen. Stick with him and he will destroy you too.”

“Don’t worry about me, Sheriff. I can take care of
myself.”

He gave her a hard look before shaking his head. “Don’t
say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t.” In fact, given a choice, she doubted
she’d say anything to the man at all.

She might have voiced the thought if one of the deputies hadn’t
chosen that moment to step into the room behind her. “Sheriff?”

Coombs tore his gaze away from her to look at the newcomer. “What
is it, Ted?”

“We’ve found something.”

The sheriff immediately rose from his chair, snapping his long
forgotten notebook shut. Laura stood up at the same time.

“What is it?” Coombs asked.

“We think we’ve got the location where the shooter was
standing.”

Laura followed the two men out of the house to the front.

“Any spent casings?” Coombs asked.

“No. Just some footprints. It looks like the guy had a clear
view of the driveway from the spot.”

The deputy pointed toward the woods on the far side of the driveway.
The side where the sheriff had appeared, Laura noted. She felt a
twinge of disappointment. Aimee had come from the side closer to the
house. There was no way she would have had time to double around the
back of the house to appear where she had if she’d been the
shooter.

“Men’s footprints?”

“Looks like it.”

“Anyone try following them?”

“We lost them in the brush. Bill Gray’s hounds might be
able to track the shooter’s scent, but I think he’s long
gone by now.”

“Most likely,” Coombs agreed.

“Sheriff!”

The shouted call drew their attention back to the woods. Simon and
another deputy stepped out from the trees and started across the
driveway.

It was foolish, but Laura felt a sudden lurch in her chest as Simon
came into view. A strange sense of relief settled over her. She
swallowed a sigh. There was no reason why she should be glad to see
him, happy to know where he was. But she was.

She was definitely losing it.

Laura didn’t miss the sudden tightening of Coombs’s jaw
as Simon approached. He pinned Simon with a glare for a long moment
before pointedly looking at the deputy. “Ken, you find
something?”

“Howard Callahan’s old cabin up there on the hill. It
looks like somebody’s been using it.”

Coombs frowned. “For how long?”

“Not too long,” Simon said, forcing the sheriff to look
at him. “Not much was disturbed, but it looks like someone
might have waited out the storm last night.”

“The shooter?”

“There were a couple of footprints that match the others we
found where the shooter probably stood,” the deputy affirmed.

“He never left,” Laura murmured. “He waited all
night for us to come back so he could try again.”

She met Simon’s grim stare. “That’s what it looks
like.”

“Anybody who’s that determined isn’t going to stop
until we catch him. Or he succeeds,” Coombs said. “You
sure you don’t have any idea who might be after you, Ms.
Morgan?”

“Believe me, Sheriff. I don’t have the first clue about
any of this. The last two days have been so confusing I’m still
trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“But the threat only started once you arrived in Rockwell?”

She glanced at Simon, her thoughts automatically going back to the
way they’d met. The flash of regret that passed over his face
told her he was thinking the same thing. But that was something else
entirely. “You mean other than the attack two years ago? Then
yes, this all began when I came here.”

“Then it might be safer if you left town,” Coombs told
her. His tone said he wouldn’t be sorry to see that happen.

“There’s no guarantee this guy won’t follow her
back to Harrisville now that he knows where she is,” Simon
said.

“And there’s no guarantee he will either,” the
sheriff shot back.

“So what? You think he’s just trying to scare her into
leaving town?” Simon’s voice rang with disbelief.

“It could be.”

“Even if that’s the case, she can’t just give in
and run away. There’s a reason he’s coming after her. We
need to find out what it is otherwise she’ll never be safe.”

“I’m a little more concerned with keeping her alive at
this point.”

“I can protect her.”

“The same way you protected Meredith?”

A shocked silence fell over the group. Simon took a step forward, his
hands clenching into fists. Laura had no doubt that Coombs was two
seconds away from being knocked flat on his back.

She moved quickly to intervene, stepping in between the two men.
Holding a hand up to Simon, she turned to Coombs.

“Sheriff, I appreciate your concern and I hope that means
you’ll put all your energies into finding this guy. But I’m
going to stay with Simon.”

Coombs’s eyes flared with surprise. His scowl deepened.

“I’m not sure you want to do that.”

“But I am.” She turned toward Simon. “If that’s
all right for you?”

The mask had fallen over his features, his expression revealing none
of his feelings on the matter. “It is,” he said flatly.

She looked back at Coombs. “I told you, Sheriff. I’m not
going anywhere until I have answers.”

“I just hope you don’t end up regretting that.” He
looked past her at his deputies and jerked his head to the left.
“Come on. We’ve got work to do.”

He brushed past her without sparing her another glance.

She felt Simon move closer behind her. “I’m not going to
let anything happen to you.”

She lifted her head to meet his somber gaze. “I know.”

The certainty in her voice seemed to catch him off guard. He opened
his mouth to say something, maybe to ask her why. She turned away
before he could, not wanting to examine why she trusted him. She did.
That was all that mattered, whatever the reason.

“Come on,” she said. “We have work to do too. I
want to get out of here. The sooner, the better.”

He fell into step behind her as they headed back into the house.
Neither of them spoke. She couldn’t help but feel it was better
that way.

BY THE TIME THEY LEFT the house hours later, they had two boxes of
scrapbooks and notepads and papers, all of which had looked worth a
closer inspection. A tow truck had come for Simon’s car, the
mechanic promising to check it over for any serious damage. They took
the other car that was sitting in the garage, a black Volvo Simon
said was Meredith’s. For a car that probably hadn’t been
used much for three years, it started as well as though it had been
driven the day before. Laura had no doubt Simon had kept it tuned.
She tried not to attribute any deeper meaning to that. It didn’t
work.

Simon picked up some burgers on the way back to the inn and they
retreated back to the room. After eating, Laura pored over the
notebooks, giving each page a close scrutiny it probably didn’t
warrant. There were notations about the most minor of things, local
organizations Meredith had been involved with, Christmas lists and
notes she’d made to herself. Meredith had been compulsive about
taking notes to keep herself from forgetting anything. Most of it was
meaningless, but Laura was afraid of missing anything. Besides, each
item was another piece in the puzzle that was Meredith, filling in
the picture a little bit more. Laura couldn’t help being
fascinated. They even had similar handwriting. Would that have
changed because of her injuries? It was just another question she
would have to ask Dr. Walker.

With a sigh, she opened the oversized pad she’d pulled from the
box. On the first page was a list of names and dates organized in a
flow chart. She flipped through the pages to find more of the same.
“What is this?”

Simon looked up from the laptop he’d brought from the house.
“What’s that?”

She turned the pad toward him so he could see. He nodded in
comprehension. “Oh, that. After the second miscarriage, she
became obsessed with genealogy and her family history. She started
researching her lineage. Since she didn’t have any siblings,
she got hooked on the idea that she was the end of her line. I guess
she wanted to have a complete record of her ancestors. She spent
months on that.” He was quiet for a moment, then looked away.
“After the third miscarriage she lost interest. I’d
forgotten all about that.”

Laura thought back to the unhappy woman pictured in the photo albums
she’d looked at yesterday. She knew what he was thinking. It
wasn’t just her family history. Meredith had lost interest in
everything.

Saddened by the thought, Laura returned her attention to the notepad.
The structure to the names was more obvious now that she knew their
meaning. In the middle of the book was a family tree laid out in a
more familiar structure, generation after generation flowing into the
next, until the ended with Meredith.

Except it didn’t quite end there. Meredith had noted her
marriage to Simon, and beneath their names had drawn another line,
clearly leaving a space for the child she believed they would have.

Laura’s heart squeezed in her chest. She could all too easily
imagine herself in the woman’s place. Even after losing her
chance at having a child twice, Meredith had still stubbornly held on
to the hope that it would happen, wanting it so badly the desire was
all that kept her going. In the last two years, Laura hadn’t
even considered having a child. Her life was so confused she wouldn’t
dream of bringing an innocent baby into it. But the need to know the
truth about her identity was so fierce that it was often the only
thing that got her out of bed in the morning. It was all that kept
her willing to face each new day, the belief that someday she would
know.

She couldn’t imagine what she would have done if she hadn’t
had that hope. She might have given up, in more ways than one. It was
easy for her to understand Meredith’s despondency when she lost
another baby and had to confront the likelihood that it wouldn’t
happen for her. She must have been so lost.

Laura couldn’t stare at that sad, blank little line any longer.
She started turning the pages again, one after another, scanning each
one. The names went on and on, the lifespans noted along with brief
biographical notes. None of them were familiar.

She was about to cast the book aside when a minor notation stopped
her short. “Oh my God.”

She sensed Simon look over at her. “What is it?”

“According to this, Meredith’s great-great-grandfather or
something moved to Rockwell from Harrisville.”

She lifted her gaze to meet his. His face was wiped clean of
expression. His dark eyes held hers for a long moment before looking
away. “I guess that explains that.”