All the Pretty Faces (13 page)

She’d met Billy Linder in church. Felt sorry for him. Trusted him.

He’d talked about his mother being ill, and she’d confided about her grandfather’s illness, that it had brought her to Graveyard Falls.

He’d interpreted that conversation to mean they were meant for each other.

Then the Taser.

She’d regained consciousness in his house with all those dead animals staring at her.

Her heart thundered as she remembered the terror of thinking she might die. While she’d baked biscuits for his mother to please him, she’d thought of all the things she wanted to do. Places she wanted to go. The family she wanted to have.

You fought back
, she reminded herself.
You used your brain and survived.

She would keep doing that.

Shoulders squared, she hurried toward the Jetta. As she approached the car, she peered through the window in case someone had broken in. But the car looked clear, so she jumped in, locked the door, and started the engine.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she glanced in the rearview mirror and spotted Porter McCray standing behind her car with a sinister grin.

Heart pounding, she shifted into gear, hit the gas, and sped away, phoning Dane again as she drove. Traffic was thicker in town because of the influx of people attached to the movie, and headlights nearly blinded her from an oncoming truck as she turned onto a side road.

She blinked to focus, but more lights from a car behind her fogged her vision. She pumped her brakes, willing the driver to dim his lights, but he sped up.

She veered onto another side street hoping he’d move on, but he turned as well.

Alarmed, she pressed the accelerator and shot forward, then quickly turned down another road. The car followed, the roar of its engine reverberating in her ears as it closed in on her tail.

Suddenly he rammed into her. Josie dropped her phone, clenched the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip and spun sideways, then made a U-turn, tires grinding gravel as she rode the shoulder. The car did the same.

He was following her.

She swung to the right onto the road leading to her house, taking the turn so fast that her car skidded and she nearly lost control. Desperate to stay on the road, she eased off the gas and managed to yank the car back in line just before she flew into a ditch.

Josie jolted forward, clenching the steering wheel and trying to see the driver in her rearview mirror. His bright lights blinded her.

Then he slammed into her again.

She screamed as her car spun and careened toward the embankment.

Dane gripped his phone and punched Connect.

Josie’s scream echoed in his ears, sending terror through him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Josie trembled and lifted her head from the steering wheel. She must have passed out for a minute. What had happened?

Reality slowly returned.

A car had run her into the embankment and she’d stalled out. Heart hammering, she glanced outside for the car, wincing at the pain that shot down her neck from the impact.

A car screeched up behind her, and she searched for the vehicle that had hit her. She hadn’t gotten a good look at it, though. Was it the same car?

A car door slammed and footsteps crunched as a man walked toward her. Josie screamed.

Terrified it was the person who’d run her off the road, she scrambled for her phone, but it had fallen to the floor.

“Josie! What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Dane shouted over the line.

She didn’t dare take her eyes off the man coming toward her long enough to answer. Slowly he emerged out of the beam of his own headlights.

Doyle Yonkers.

She grabbed the Mace from her purse, then braced it between her fingers. Had he hit her so he could kidnap her?

A second later, he rapped on her window. “Miss DuKane, are you all right?”

Josie squinted to see if he was armed. Did he have a gun?

A Taser like Billy had?

He held his phone to the window. “Do you need me to call an ambulance? A tow truck?”

She didn’t see a weapon. Or a Taser. Then again, she hadn’t seen one with Billy.

“Are you okay? Should I call nine-one-one?” He reached for the door handle to open it. She shouted for him to back away and locked the door. A frown darkened his face, and he raised his hands and took a step back as if to indicate he meant no harm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you need a doctor?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m okay.”

“Josie, talk to me! Where are you?” Dane yelled.

Josie kept her eyes on Yonkers and snatched her phone from the floor. “Second Street.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Comforted that he was on his way, she loosened her death grip on the door handle.

“What happened?” Doyle asked through the window.

Several cars whizzed by without even slowing. Had Doyle hit her or had the driver raced on and left her? “Somebody ran me off the road. Did you see anyone?”

Doyle’s thick brows bunched together. “No. You mean someone hit you on purpose?”

She nodded. “Just like someone pushed me into the street.” He had come to the rescue both times. A coincidence, or had he caused both accidents, then appeared as if he was her savior?

His eyes flared with shock. “Wait a minute, Josie, you don’t think it was me.”

“You were around both times,” she said, daring him to explain.

He cursed. “I stopped by the community center to see you.”

“What for?”

“To convince you to make this camera crew leave town. Can’t they film somewhere else?”

“Is that why you ran me off the road? To scare me into leaving?”

“God dammit, I didn’t hit you.” His wiry hair stuck up where he’d rammed his hands through it. “Someone at the center said you’d already left, so I decided to drive by your house.”

Josie kept her fingers curled around the Mace. “How do you know where I live?”

“Everyone in Graveyard Falls knows where Sheriff Buckley lived.” He shifted, his gaze swinging sideways as Dane roared to a stop and jumped from his SUV.

“What the hell are you doing here, Yonkers?” Dane bellowed.

Doyle backed away from the window. “I was passing by and saw this car off the road. I stopped to help.”

Dane’s gaze flew to Josie’s. “Are you okay?”

She dropped the Mace, relieved to see him. “Yes, just shaken.”

“Did he hurt you?” Dane asked.

Josie shook her head. She didn’t know what to believe about Yonkers. He seemed sincere. He’d also saved her in the street.

Billy had seemed sincere, too. And harmless.

She couldn’t let down her guard. A killer was on the loose, and Josie couldn’t trust anyone.

Dane had thought Yonkers was strange the moment he’d met him. The pet crematorium had fit with his hobby of collecting animals that had been preserved. Then Dane had dug into the man’s history and discovered that as a kid he’d been obsessed with death.

After his sister’s murder, he’d collected articles about other young women who’d been brutally killed. He’d also created his own small graveyard of dead animals that he supposedly found in the woods.

“I’m tired of you treating me like I’m some kind of criminal,” Yonkers said to Dane. “You got the Bride Killer and know it wasn’t me. So what’s the deal now?”

“Another woman was murdered.” Dane folded his arms in an intimidating gesture. “Twice now someone tried to hurt Josie. You showed up both times.”

Yonkers’s eyes flared with surprise. “A girl is dead? Who?”

Dane mumbled a sarcastic sound. “Like you don’t know.”

A muscle jumped in Yonkers’s jaw. “As a matter of fact, I don’t know anything about a murder. It was a coincidence that I was on the street when Josie fell. I didn’t push her.” His voice rose. “I helped her up and stopped that car from running over her.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Dane said bluntly.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t totally a coincidence. Like everyone else in town, I attended the press conference because I’m interested in this film. I want to make sure my sister is portrayed in a positive light.”

Josie stiffened. “I portrayed all the victims sympathetically.”

Yonkers’s face reddened with anger. “You made it sound like my sister and the other teenagers were mean girls, that they excluded Charlene and that she had reason to kill them.”

“That’s not true,” Josie said.

“Miss DuKane simply relayed what happened,” Dane said. “Raising awareness to teenagers about how they treat others is a good thing.”

“My sister wasn’t a bully.”

Josie folded her hands in her lap. “No one said she was.”

“So that’s why you pushed Josie?” Dane pressed. “You’re angry because you think she made your sister look bad?”

Yonkers cursed. “I didn’t push her. I told you I stepped in front of the car that was about to run over her so he wouldn’t kill her!”

“Maybe that was your plan,” Dane continued. “You pushed her, then jumped in to save her so you’d look like a hero.”

Yonkers glared at Josie and then Dane. “If being a Good Samaritan makes me look guilty, then I’m guilty. Now, I’m done here.”

Anger flared in his eyes, and he pivoted and headed back to his vehicle. Dane followed him, nonplussed by the man’s attitude. He hadn’t liked him when he’d run surveillance on him for the Bride Killer murders, and he didn’t like him now.

One report Peyton had dug up on the man showed he’d had several fistfights when he was a teen. A girl had also accused him of asking her to play the choking game.

He paused by Yonkers’s van, then pulled out his flashlight to search for signs that he’d sideswiped or bumped Josie.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yonkers asked, any semblance of politeness evaporating.

“Looking for paint marks, dents.”

“Unbelievable,” Yonkers muttered. “You’re determined to try to pin something on me, but you have it wrong.”

Anger churned in Dane’s belly. He didn’t see any evidence that Yonkers had hit Josie, but the van was sturdy enough that it probably wouldn’t have dented. “Then leave Josie alone,” Dane said. “Stay away from her, do you hear me?”

The man’s mouth flattened, but his eyes were as cold as ice chips.

“Do you?” Dane asked, his voice harder.

“Yes,” Yonkers said in a clipped tone. “If you think you’re going to railroad me to jail for a crime I didn’t commit like Sheriff Buckley did Johnny Pike, you’re mistaken.”

“Trust me, I’m not railroading anyone,” Dane said. “I will get to the truth. If you lay one hand on Josie DuKane, you’ll answer to me. Got it?”

Animosity thrummed between them. Finally Yonkers broke eye contact, muttered a curse, slid into his van, started the engine, and drove away.

Dane gritted his teeth, hoping he’d made his point clear. When he turned back to Josie, his heart pounded, emotions pummeling him. She looked pale but sat ramrod straight as if she was braced for a fight.

She had been smart when she was abducted. She’d fought with her wits and stalled by playing along with Linder until she found the right moment to escape. Linder had still overpowered her, but even then she hadn’t given up.

He admired her guts.

Dammit, he couldn’t afford to let her get under his skin.

But he would protect her with his life.

Josie jammed the Mace back into her purse, relieved Yonkers had left.

Dane walked back to her car and offered her a tentative smile. “If he bothers you again, let me know.”

“I will. Thanks for talking to him. I don’t know what to make of him.”

“I don’t trust him and neither should you.”

“I don’t trust any man,” Josie admitted.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Not all men are bad, Josie.”

Tension vibrated between them, but this was a different kind of tension. Something like desire flickered in his eyes, causing heat to spiral inside her.

She didn’t want to be attracted to him, but her heart and body refused to listen to her brain. His strong arms and staunch need for justice made her feel safe and tempted her to fall into his arms.

He jerked his gaze from her to the ditch. “Can you drive your car out? Or should I call a tow truck?”

Josie sighed. His matter-of-fact tone was like a cold shower. So much for desire. She’d obviously misread his concern for something more. “Let me try.”

Dane gave a nod, then stepped away from the edge of the ditch. Thankfully, the car had barely slid over the edge, and the impact hadn’t triggered the air bags.

She started the car and shifted gears, tires grinding over the dirt edge, slinging dust and gravel. He motioned for her to cut the steering wheel to the right, and she did, then accelerated again. The tires ground and spit dirt, digging her in deeper. Irritated, she cut the wheel slightly to the side and tried again. More tires spinning, gravel slinging and hitting the metal, then another slight turn of the wheel and finally the car eased backward onto the road’s shoulder.

He yelled that he would follow her home, and she veered onto the road and drove the short distance to her grandfather’s house. Tornado season was in full swing, and the sky darkened with the threat of more storms.

She parked and Dane stopped behind her, then followed her to the porch. Josie’s hand was shaking as she unlocked the door.

“Thanks for making sure I got home,” Josie said, pausing at the entryway.

Dane cleared his throat. “I’m not leaving you by yourself tonight.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Dane—”

He gripped her arms with his hands, his look fierce. But his voice was gentle. “Someone tried to hurt you. It’s not safe for you to be alone.”

Her skin tingled. Of course his job was the reason he’d made that statement. There was nothing personal between them.

I want there to be.

Her pulse clamored. Yet the fierce protective instincts he possessed and his gruff voice soothed her anxiety.

“Dane, I’m home, I’m fine. I don’t think anyone will bother me here.”

“Get real, Josie. The unsub was in your house before. He left that damn doll.”

The wind sent a chill through her. Or maybe it was his words. “You don’t have to remind me.”

He squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry. But I don’t like the fact that this killer may be using you.”

“I’m not crazy about it either,” she said wryly.

He gestured for her to enter. “Then don’t argue. We can talk about the case tonight.”

Josie shrugged, then dropped her purse on the side table and walked into the kitchen before she did something stupid like collapse in his arms.

If Dane was going to stay, she’d make dinner.

“Tell me what you know,” Josie said as she pulled pasta and ingredients for sauce from the cupboard and refrigerator.

“What are you doing?” Dane asked.

“Making pasta. We have to eat.” She gestured toward the refrigerator. “There’s a bottle of wine and a beer in there if you want one.”

Dane hesitated, his jaw set tight.