After Caroline (31 page)

She was dimly aware of sounds, and then light suddenly as the hay was pushed away from the driver’s side of the car. Her door was wrenched open.

“Joanna? Are you all right?”

Griffin’s voice was harsh, and the face she looked up into as grim as she’d ever seen it. She wanted to reassure him, to say she was fine, shaken but not hurt at all. But what came out of her mouth, calmly, was what was echoing in her mind.

“That’s the third time.”

“I’m all right, I told you that.” Joanna managed a smile as Becket frowned at her. “Really.”

“So it seems,” he said, laying aside the stethoscope but still frowning a little. “But you’ve just been through a hell of a shock, Joanna. When the adrenaline wears off, you’re going to feel it. I’d rather keep you here in the clinic overnight, just for observation.”

“No, thanks.”

“Look, at the very least, you’re going to be sore as hell by morning, after the way that car jerked you around. If you stay here, we’ll at least be able to make you more comfortable.”

Joanna shook her head. “No offense, Doc, but I hate hospital beds. I’ll be fine.”

Becket looked toward the door of the examining room. “Griff, will you try to talk some sense into her, please?”

He hadn’t said a word during the entire examination—and hardly a word before that—but now Griffin said very quietly, “He’s right, Joanna. You should let them keep an eye on you tonight.”

Joanna didn’t want to appear obstinate, but no way was she going to spend the night in the clinic, not when she felt perfectly all right. It occurred to her that her calm was a touch unreal, and that she would undoubtedly feel shaky once it wore off, but if she was going to fall apart, she preferred to do so alone rather than under observation.

She looked at Becket and said, “Thanks, but I’d rather go back to the hotel. If I have any problems, I’ll call you. Good enough?”

“I guess it’ll have to be.” He smiled wryly. “But take my advice, at least. You’re going to be shaky sometime in the next hour or so. If you eat something hot, it’ll help. So will soaking in a hot bath for a while. And then take things easy. Okay?”

“That I’ll do.”

“Good.” He touched her shoulder lightly, then turned away from her and headed for the door. “How’s her car, Griff?”

“Totaled,” Griffin answered. “And Bill Cook’s pasture is in pretty bad shape.”

Becket shook his head slightly, but left the room without saying anything else.

Joanna slid down off the examining table. “If my insurance doesn’t cover it, I’ll pay the damages,” she said, peculiarly anxious that Griffin know that.

“Don’t be an idiot. Nobody gives a damn about the pasture.” His voice was a little rough.

“It seemed my only choice,” she said, still anxious. “The pasture or the cliffs. I really didn’t want to chance the cliffs.”

Griffin pushed himself away from the doorjamb and came into the small room. His face was hard, his dark eyes very intent. When he reached Joanna, he took his hands out of the pockets of his jacket and put them on her shoulders. Without a word, he bent his head and kissed her.

It took Joanna so much by surprise that she didn’t get the chance to brace herself—not that it would have helped, probably. The warm, hard touch of his mouth felt instantly right to her, necessary in some way she couldn’t explain to herself but could only feel. As if she’d been looking for something desperately important for a long, long time, and had found it unexpectedly when she had stopped looking for it.

His hands left her shoulders to cradle her head, his thumbs stroking across her cheekbones, and she felt herself lean into him with a need beyond reason. Her body responded like some delicate musical instrument to the hand it knew best, to the touch that could coax from it only the purest notes. As if she had been designed, made, only for him. And the certainty of that was something she felt as strongly as the compulsion that had brought her here to Cliffside.

Griffin seemed to feel it as well. There was nothing tentative about his kiss, nothing uncertain, nothing preliminary; it was every bit as unequivocal as the sexual act itself. Possession, pure and simple. And Joanna realized that if
there had ever been a question about whether this would happen, there wasn’t one now.

He finally ended the kiss, a faint, hoarse sound escaping him when his lips reluctantly left hers. Instead of letting her go, he wrapped both arms around her and just held her. She felt his heart thudding hard and fast, wondered if her own had leaped into that same wild rhythm, and slid her arms around his lean waist. It felt good to be held that way, just simply
good
, and she wasn’t tempted to protest or pull away.

“Oh—excuse me. I just wanted to give Joanna my beeper number in case she needs me tonight.”

“You have rotten timing, Doc,” Griffin said calmly. He kept an arm around Joanna’s shoulders as he turned toward the door.

Never easily embarrassed herself, Joanna accepted the card Becket held out to her with murmured thanks. She still had an arm around Griffin’s waist and was vaguely surprised at herself for not letting go of him.

“I
am
sorry,” Becket repeated, looking at Griffin with a slight smile.

“Forget it.” Griffin guided Joanna out the door and down the hall, with Becket following behind them as far as the receptionist’s desk.

“I’ll have that tox screen for you tomorrow,” he reminded Griffin. “It’ll be negative, I bet, but at least we’ll know for sure.”

“Okay, thanks, Doc.”

They left the clinic and walked to where Griffin had left his Blazer parked near the doors. It had gotten dark, but the lot was well lit and they were able to see their way clearly. Griffin opened the passenger door for Joanna, and she climbed in. He was about to shut the door when they saw a Sheriff’s Department car pull into the lot.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Joanna, before shutting the door and going to talk to his deputy.

In less than five minutes, he was back, getting into the
driver’s side and starting the Blazer’s engine. “You’re staying at my place tonight,” he said.

She was a little startled, both by what was clearly a command and by the harsh tone of his voice, but all she said was, “I’ll be fine at the hotel.”

Griffin put the Blazer in gear, but kept his foot on the brake, half turning in the seat to look at her. “Doc said you needed somebody to keep an eye on you tonight, and that somebody is going to be me.”

“Griffin—”

“Joanna, listen to me.” His voice was low now, but still rough. “The accelerator on your car didn’t
just
stick, and the airbag didn’t
just
fail to deploy. The accelerator was jammed and the entire electrical system was screwed up. Do you understand? It was tampered with. Joanna, somebody tried to kill you.”

O
WNED ONE
of the cottages that were spaced along the cliffs between The Inn and the northern end of town. Since it was dark when they arrived, Joanna couldn’t get a good idea of how the place looked, and had to assume it was like the others she had seen—relatively small but very well built and attractive, and situated very close to the edge of the cliffs.

She listened to the surf pounding the rocks while he unlocked the door, then followed him inside the cottage. He turned on several lights immediately, and she looked around with interest. They had come in through the kitchen, which, along with the dining area and living room, made up one large and airy space. The kitchen was neat and cheery with its bright color scheme; the small glass-topped dining table boasted woven place mats also in vivid colors; and the living room furniture was the big, overstuffed kind most men would find comfortable, with neutral colors and plenty of pillows scattered around.

Doors led off each side of the dining area, presumably to bedrooms and bathrooms. There was a rock fireplace in one corner of the living room, and the remainder of that wall—the sea wall, so to speak—consisted of big glass windows and an atrium door opening out onto what Joanna assumed was a deck or patio. The windows were veiled at the moment by draperies made up of some lightweight material in a neutral sand color. In the corner opposite the fireplace was a compact entertainment center with TV and stereo.

Joanna thought the place had probably been professionally decorated at some point in its past, but time had worn down the sharp edges of exactitude and had left pleasantness and comfort behind.

“Nice,” she said to Griffin.

He sent her a fleeting smile as he hung his jacket on a rack by the door, but the dark eyes were still grim and Joanna knew he was still thinking about the knowledge that someone had tampered with her car. She was a bit numb herself, unwilling to think very much about that, at least for now.

Griffin left the greatroom, and a minute or so later she heard water running in a bathtub. He came back to her, and before she could say anything, he said, “I know you think you’re fine, but Doc was right about the shock
and
about how sore you’ll probably be in the morning. Even if you don’t agree with either of us, humor us, okay?”

She managed a smile. “Okay.”

He nodded, matter-of-fact. “I’ve put a pair of pajamas in the bathroom for you; they’ll swallow you whole, but the pants have a drawstring waist, so you should be able to manage. And while you soak the kinks out, I’ll see what I can do in the kitchen. How do you feel about omelettes?”

“I love them,” she said. “But you don’t have to—”

Griffin turned her toward the doorway leading to the bathroom and gave her a little push. “Go. And take your time.”

Joanna went. She found herself in a short hallway, with
a bathroom on one side and a bedroom on the other. Griffin’s bedroom, she decided after a brief glance into it. Not only because he’d apparently gotten the pajamas there, but also because the lamplit room just looked like him somehow. Neat and uncluttered, with solid dark oak furniture and a quilt on the big bed instead of a bedspread.

She went into the bathroom, which was also neat, and found that the decorator had used a huge, old-fashioned claw-footed tub to make the most of space in the small room. The tub was filling with hot water and it looked wonderful.

Joanna closed the door and began undressing even before she noticed the dark blue flannel pajamas folded on the vanity. They looked warm and comfortable but weren’t exactly sexy, and given her druthers, she would certainly have picked something else—especially after that kiss at the clinic. But she hadn’t even thought to suggest that they make a brief side trip to The Inn so that she could pick up a few of her things, and she doubted it would do much good to suggest it now.

Shrugging it off, she finished undressing and climbed cautiously into the big tub. The water was perfect, hot without being too hot, and she felt muscles she hadn’t even realized were tense relax. She turned off the faucets and leaned back, resting the nape of her neck against the rim of the tub.

She thought she was fine. She thought she’d handled the shocks of the wreck and the knowledge that someone had tried to kill her very well. But as her body relaxed in the hot water, she felt wetness on her face and realized that she was crying. She didn’t sob out loud, but she couldn’t seem to stem the flow of tears. They streamed down her cheeks as if a dam had burst inside her.

Fine? She wasn’t fine at all. She was shaken and frightened and feeling overwhelmed. Someone had tried to kill her? But why? Because she was asking questions about Caroline? Because she had somehow gotten too close to somebody’s secret?

She lay there with her eyes closed, not even trying to stop the tears now and seeing face after face in her mind’s eye. Who? Who was so intent on hiding their secret that murder was acceptable to them? She had met so many people since coming here, most of whom had known Caroline; how could she even begin to guess which one of those seemingly ordinary people might have a secret worth killing for?

She didn’t know how much time had passed when a soft knock at the bathroom door and Griffin’s voice roused her.

“Joanna? Coffee’s hot, and supper will be ready in about ten minutes.”