Body Heat (13 page)

“Damn it! And here I was, hoping to make a sex tape.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really know how to break down a girl's defenses.”

“I try.”

“Indiscriminately?”

“Sometimes.”

Letting the engine idle, she gave him a wry smile. “Forgetting sex for a moment, what lab has that cigarette butt?”

“One in San Diego. They're reputable. If there's any DNA, they'll find it.”

“And you'll share the profile with me as soon as you have it.”

“Of course. I already told you I would.”

“Wonderful. It's been interesting. Have a good night.”

He didn't get out. He'd finished teasing her about going inside with him, but he had other questions. “What does your gut say?” he asked. “Is it Leonard? Is he killing people in an attempt to get back at the woman who told on him for forcing her to have sex?”

“That's my best guess. I suppose it could be a rogue border patrol agent or a disgruntled rancher— Charlie Sumpter comes to mind. But I've found no proof of either.”

“I've never met Leonard, but…his trailer looked like shit and didn't smell much better. Seems he's had a lot in his life go bad lately. That could cause the mildest of men to snap.”

“Exactly. Although, to be fair, his marriage was on the rocks before I ever learned about Rosita Flores. It was just a matter of time.”

“That's the Mexican woman's name? Rosita?”

“Yes.”

“How old was she?”

“Barely eighteen.”

He remembered his father telling him about Sophia's
former boyfriend. “That must've sounded a bit too familiar.”

She sobered instantly. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm saying he was in a position of authority, and he took advantage of that with a teenager, like the preacher who used to be your boyfriend.”

“Who told you about Dick?”

“Bruce.”

“You mean your father.”

“Bruce,”
he repeated.

“Yeah, well, next time I see him I'll have to thank him for airing my dirty laundry.”

“He likes you. He's hoping you'll marry Stuart.”

This evoked an incredulous laugh. “There's
no
chance of that.”

“You're sure? He'll be a wealthy man someday.”

She glared at him, obviously upset by the implication that she could be that shallow. “Get out.”

“One more question. What did the preacher have to attract you that Stuart doesn't?”

At first, he figured she wasn't going to answer, but she surprised him. “I thought he had a conscience, for one,” she said. “He was religious, the opposite of Starkey. I suppose I thought the grass would be greener on the other side, as the saying goes.”

“But he cheated on you and broke your heart.”

“That pretty much sums it up. Thanks for the recap.”

“I guess what I really want to know is if you're over it.”

She didn't regret losing Dick, didn't want him back. But that experience had certainly left its mark. “I'm getting there.”

“You're dating again?”

“I've gone out a few times. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“About my love life?”

“I've been wondering if that kiss in the cell was your first since the preacher.”

“Does it matter?”

“If the answer is yes, you've been keeping yourself on a pretty tight leash.”

“It's a small town. I don't have a lot of options, as you've mentioned.”

“Not a lot of
discreet
options,” he clarified. “But there's one.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” she said with a laugh.

He opened the door. “Tell me something.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “What?”

“Did your stepfather ever get away with…you know…anything?” The color drained from her face, which made Rod's muscles tense. “Because if he did, I'm going to break his jaw.”

She frowned. “Let me save you the trouble. He didn't get away with anything. I wouldn't let him.”

Was it true? Or was it another defense mechanism—like the one that kicked in whenever someone asked him about the Dunlaps?
I don't care about them…. I hope I never see my father again…. I don't have a father….

“Can I break his jaw for trying?”

He expected her to tell him no, for her mother's sake if not for any other reason. But when he saw tears in her eyes, he realized just how alone she must've felt in those days. And just how tired and battle weary she was right now.

Clearing her throat, she glanced away. “That's enough catching up for one night. I've got to go.”

He nearly reached over to squeeze her hand. But he didn't want her to think he pitied her. He knew from experience that pity was worse than contempt or anything else. So he got out and let her leave.

S
ophia wasn't sure why she'd told Rod about her stepfather. Except for Starkey and her mother,
no one
knew. Even her brother, Tyler, who would only feel too guilty for not being there to protect her. And it wasn't as if she could go to her real father. After the divorce, he'd been on the verge of a complete meltdown; she couldn't break his heart with something like this.

So why had she exposed the truth to
Rod Guerrero?
And why did the past seem to be so present tonight? She'd mostly forgotten that terrible year and a half, hadn't she? Of course she had. She and her stepfather were now on speaking terms. When she attended holiday gatherings at her mother's place, they were polite to each other. They'd never be close, but she had no business dredging up the past when they'd all moved on. The fact that she felt the need to do so didn't make sense.

But her reaction to Rod didn't make sense, either. So what if he was good-looking? She'd known other good-looking men who didn't affect her in the same way. Was she drawn to him because he could so easily identify with her pain? Because they were both struggling to overcome an earlier period in their lives that dealt with this town and its people? Or because she hoped for his understanding,
maybe even his forgiveness, for standing him up at such a vulnerable age, when he'd already been going through so much?

Maybe it was a mixture…

Wrapped up in her thoughts and the lingering memory of Rod's kiss, she almost didn't notice the pickup parked behind the Mexican restaurant across the street. Even after she spotted it, she didn't think much about it until the headlights came on. Then she realized that someone was inside, and got the strangest feeling that whoever it was had been watching her. She also got the impression he—or they—didn't mind if she knew it.

Pulling a U-turn, she swung around to see if it was Stuart. It hadn't looked like his truck, but she'd just caught a glimpse of the front grille before turning. And watching her like that was something he might do, especially if he was still angry at her for siding with Rod at the jail.

Once, when she'd gone over to Starkey's to pick up Rafe, she'd come out to find Rod's half brother sitting in his vehicle as if he'd followed her there. When she stopped to ask what he was doing, he'd said he was in the area to see a friend who lived nearby. But the only person Stuart knew who lived that close to Starkey was Ellen Broomsfield—someone else they'd gone to high school with. Sophia had never known Stuart to hang out with Ellen, or even be kind to her. Ellen weighed at least three hundred and fifty pounds and was virtually a recluse. A friend like that would be an embarrassment to Stuart. Sophia couldn't imagine him visiting her.

Still, that incident hadn't really alarmed her. Not the way this one did. The earlier one had happened in the light of day and before she'd known they had a killer in their midst. There was also the fact that she hadn't been
tempted to stay and take off her clothes for Starkey, so it hadn't felt like such an invasion of privacy.

What if she'd decided to spend a few hours at the motel? She wouldn't have wanted Stuart or anyone else to know about it. Although she didn't plan on getting intimate with Rod, she wanted to feel as if she
could
make that decision without someone creeping around behind her, taking notes—whether she was on duty or not. Because she was always on duty. There was so much responsibility involved in being chief of police, her private and professional lives had merged. There wasn't any other way to live if you were a small-town cop.

Red taillights up ahead told her she was closing in on the vehicle she'd spotted. But if the driver knew she was behind him, he didn't seem concerned. He appeared to be going too fast, and she was pretty sure he'd just run a red light.

Hoping this was merely a random DUI, she flipped on her flashers and checked for oncoming traffic before charging through the same intersection.

Whoever it was, it wasn't Stuart. The truck was too old and dented. The Dunlaps prided themselves on having money and made a point of showing it. And the person behind the wheel was wearing a cowboy hat. If Stuart ever wore a hat, it was a baseball cap.

Thanks to the driver's speed, she didn't catch up with him until the town's buildings had fallen away to desert. Even then, he didn't pull over.

Once she drew close enough to see the license plate, she put the number in her computer to get the DMV information and found that the truck was registered to a Dwight Smith.

It wasn't a name she recognized….

In case Dwight was too drunk to notice the red and blue lights behind him, she turned on her siren and came right up on his bumper.

Finally the driver slowed and pulled onto the shoulder.

They were so far from Bordertown, Sophia couldn't see anything that wasn't in the direct beam of her headlights, which made her uneasy. But she had a job to do. Grabbing her flashlight with her left hand, she kept her right on the handle of her gun as she cautiously approached the truck.

“Step out of the car and put your hands up,” she called out.

“Somethin' wrong,
Chief?
”

Sophia had yet to see the driver's face, but she knew that voice. This wasn't Dwight Smith. It was Leonard Taylor. He'd lowered his window, but he wasn't getting out, as she'd asked.

“I said to step out of the vehicle.”

The door still didn't open. “Have I done somethin' wrong?”

“Get out!”

Making sure she heard his exaggerated sigh, he opened a door rusty enough to squeal on its hinges. “Is this really necessary?”

She ignored his irritation—and his question. “Where'd you get this truck?”

The salt-and-pepper goatee he'd grown since quitting the force strengthened his resemblance to Kenny Rogers. They had the same build, were probably about the same size and had similar blue eyes and tanned faces. Leonard wasn't unattractive; it was what he harbored inside that Sophia didn't like.

“This is a company vehicle, provided by my employer. Name's Dwight Smith. But you already know that, don't you? You had plenty of time to look it up. Standard procedure and all.”

“He doesn't mind if you drive it for personal use?”

“He knows I don't have a choice. Lorna took the car when she left.”

The accusation in those words suggested he blamed her for his wife's actions. But that came as no surprise. Sophia already knew he blamed her for everything.

“You abused your power and cheated on your wife, Leonard.” Which, rumor had it, wasn't the first time he'd stepped out. He liked the attention the uniform brought him. He'd even hit on her once or twice when they'd started working together. “Why not do the right thing and take responsibility for your actions?”

“That's easy for you to say. It's not as if you'd ever be tempted to have sex with anyone. You're the ice queen.” He lowered his voice. “You're probably so frigid you wouldn't know what to do with a cock if—”

“That's enough,” she snapped. But he didn't back off. He moved closer.

“No, it's not. It's not nearly enough. You think you're such a ballbuster. That you don't have to worry about your own secrets getting out. But I'm here to tell you that no one's secrets are safe in Bordertown, not even yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the reason you hate men.”

“You know nothing about me!”

“I know your stepdaddy spent more time diddling you than he did your mother. That's something, isn't it?”

Sophia opened her mouth to deny it but nothing came out. It felt as if he'd been doing more than following her
and watching her; it felt as if he'd been listening to every word she said.

“Your mother came to me once,” he explained with a victorious smile. “Crying.” So Anne
had
heard when Sophia tried to tell her what was happening. And, on some level, she'd believed it. But if that was the case, why hadn't she done anything?

Her mother's refusal to protect her hurt more than the memory of the instances, before Sophia had turned to Starkey, when her stepfather had pressed her to let him touch her. She'd always resisted, but his attempt alone made her feel dirty.

“You expect me to believe my mother sought
you
out?” she said.

“It's true.”

But if Leonard was as sure of that as he pretended, he wouldn't be telling her. He'd be spreading it all over town, twisting key parts of the story to make it appear that
she'd
seduced Gary, or at least actively participated in an inappropriate relationship. If he was following her around, heckling her, he suspected but didn't
know.
Which meant that whatever her mother had told him left room for doubt.

Acting as indifferent as she could, she slipped her gun back in its holster. “That's crazy. Even if my mother believed I was sleeping with her husband, she'd never turn to
you.
”

“She actually came to talk to Chief Bernstein, but I happened to be the only one at the station. And she was in desperate need of advice. She wanted me to tell her, given my extensive background in police work, whether I'd ever encountered a situation where a teenage girl had falsely accused a stepfather of molestation. She thought
you might be lying to get attention or to get rid of Gary.” He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “But you weren't lying, were you?”

How could her mother have betrayed her in this way as well as all the others? How could she have been that selfish?

It would be foolish to react to the throbbing ache inside her. At least, right now. Straightening her spine, she poured every ounce of energy into a performance she hoped would put an end to this.

“If she really said that, she was just being paranoid. There was a period when she didn't feel she was getting enough of Gary's attention. But there was
nothing
going on between us. Nothing at all.”

For the most part, that statement was true, despite her stepfather's advances. And she suspected her mother knew the truth on some level and had been jealous, which was why she hadn't fought to keep Sophia at home when Sophia moved out.

But this explanation didn't seem to sway Leonard. He remained as smug as ever.

“Maybe I'd believe you if not for what your stepfather carries in his wallet.”

Sophia had the terrible feeling that this encounter was about to go from bad to worse. “How do you know what my stepfather carries in his wallet?”

“Gus happened to be at the Firelight tonight.”

Gus was one of the men who worked at her stepfather's feed store. He ran tractor rentals.

“And what does Gus know?”

“Just what he's seen with his own eyes.”

“Which is…”

“Your stepfather carries your picture.”

She could hardly breathe. “A lot of people carry pictures of their children.”

“In this one—” he smiled, relishing the moment “—you're
naked.
”

Sophia wished she could rally with a quick denial. But he'd succeeded in leveling her. When, if ever, could her stepfather have taken that picture? She'd never undressed for him. He used to come into her room after her mother was asleep and sit on the edge of her bed. He'd talk to her about life, school, her father—always her father, as if he was trying to differentiate between himself and her real dad. And sometimes he'd touch her in ways that would, at first, seem harmless. He'd smooth the hair off her forehead or tuck her in, actions designed to win her trust. Then he'd “accidentally” brush her breasts or even try to lie down with her.

But, to her knowledge, he'd never seen her naked. She'd made sure of it. She'd become ultramodest, wouldn't even shower unless he was out of the house.

“That can't be true,” she said decisively.

“Gus swore on a stack of Bibles. Said you have the most amazing tits he's ever seen.”

Of course Leonard would have to add that. He couldn't miss an opportunity to embarrass her. But she didn't react to the “tits” comment. The past—the divorce, the new marriage, her brother's absence at college, Starkey, her real father's decline and subsequent death when she was only twenty-five—it all came rushing back. She'd felt so vulnerable in those days. She'd promised herself she'd never be that vulnerable again.

Yet here she was, feeling completely exposed. Not that she'd let him know it. Whether or not she could defuse the
situation depended on this very moment. “I'm afraid I'm going to need you to take a Breathalyzer test, Leonard.”

“What?”
He seemed shocked that he hadn't set her back the way he'd intended.

“You're not making sense. My stepfather couldn't have any such picture, because I've never been naked in front of him. You must be drunk.”

“I'm not drunk!”

“Then you shouldn't mind proving it.”

His eyes glittered in the darkness. “God, I hate you. You are
such
a bitch!”

“Hating me doesn't change anything.”

“Leave me the hell alone.” He turned to get in his truck, but she grabbed his door when he tried to close it and drew her gun.

“If you won't submit to a Breathalyzer, I'll arrest you,” she said. “I can't let you back on the road until I know the rest of us are safe.”

He laughed loud and long at that. “Fine, I'll prove I'm not drunk. But don't think you'll
ever
be safe.”

“Are you threatening me?” she murmured.

“Just making sure you know not to count me among your friends.”

“I'd never make that mistake.” She went to the car to retrieve the Breathalyzer.