Colder Than Ice (26 page)

“Beth!”

He was close to panic. He didn't get this way, not ever. He was trained to stay calm in any situation. What the hell was the matter with him?

He hurried inside, snatched up the phone and called the Blackberry Police Department. He told the receptionist to put him on with Chief Parker, and she did so without any questions, which he appreciated to no end.

“Frankie Parker here,” she said. “That you, Kendall?”

“Yes. I've lost track of Beth. And I'm worried.”

“How long since you've seen her?”

He thinned his lips, looked at his watch. “Forty-five minutes.”

“Forty-five—Kendall, you have some reason to think something's happened to her?”

“I just can't believe I let that much time go by without—” He broke off at the creak of the screen door, and spun around to see Beth coming inside.

“Never mind, Frankie. She just came in.”

“I still think you need to tell me a little more than you have, Joshua. If the threat to her is so severe that you panic when she's out of your sight for more than a few minutes—”

“I have to go.”

He hung up the phone while Frankie was still talking, reached Beth in three strides and snapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“Josh, what in the world?”

He lifted his head, leaned back just enough so he could look down at her face, and then he was kissing her in a way that probably gave away everything he'd been feeling. He kissed her fiercely, almost desperately, his hands tangling in her hair, his mouth invading and then possessing hers.

When he finally came up for air and stared down into her sparkling, confused eyes, he took a moment to ask himself just what the hell he was doing. This hadn't been planned, hadn't been part of any effort to fool her, hadn't been part of the role he was playing. What was it, then?

Heavoided her probing, questioning eyes. “Where were you?”

She shook her head. “Needed some air, had some thinking to do. So I took a short walk out back.”

He spun to face her. “Do you have any idea what kind of risk you were taking? Going out there alone like that?”

She blinked twice. “No more risk than I've been taking every time I've left my house for the past year, Josh.”

“A lot more than that, and you know it. Jesus, Beth, do you
want
him to find you? Alone, defenseless—”

“I'm far from defenseless.”

He had to forcibly restrain himself from barking at her, calling her a fool. He drew a breath first, all too aware that he was in an emotional state he'd rarely experienced. “I know that,”
he said, keeping his voice level. Careful. “But I'm here to protect you. I'm one more tool you can use to protect yourself. Slipping away without me is like—like driving without your seat belt. It's an unnecessary risk.”

She lowered her head. “I don't think as clearly when I'm with you,” she said softly. “Frankly, I think you could probably get me to believe just about anything you wanted to. You touch me, and my common sense goes to hell.”

“Beth, don't. I've told you the truth, I've told you why I'm really here. I'm sorry I lied to you in the beginning, I just—”

“I know. I know, Josh.” She paced away from him. “I needed some space, that's all. There were things I needed to do.”

He frowned, noticing for the first time the shadows in her eyes. She was keeping something from him. “What kinds of things?”

She thinned her lips. “Nothing you're going to like.”

“What?” He blinked, searching her face.

She shook her head. “Have you heard from Bryan?”

“Yes, and stop changing the subject.”

“It's none of your business, Josh. I'm not telling you until it's too late for you to do anything to stop it.”

“Stop what? Jesus, Beth, what the hell are you talking about?”

She shook her head. “Ask me again, about six-thirty, and I'll tell you.”

“Beth—”

“I'm tired, Josh. Can we skip this for now? God, we've got so much to do. The place is in no shape for Maude's memorial service.”

Josh could only frown at her as she headed up the stairs. He followed her, but she walked into one of the unused bed
rooms instead of her own. It wasn't one of the usable ones; it was stacked full of boxes and smelled slightly musty. She was peeling off her sweater on the way. Then she pulled on an oversize T-shirt she'd left hanging from the vacant room's doorknob at some point.

“Beth, what on earth are you doing?”

“Cleaning the place,” she said.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I spoke to Will Ahearn. He's not amenable to returning my deposit—I signed a binding contract and that down payment is nonrefundable. He says it covers his coming out here, inspecting the place, generating an estimate and so on.”

“He did all that before it was yours.”

“Technically, he didn't. It was already mine on paper. Remember what the lawyer said?”

“Still—”

“I told him to start today. And since he and his crew are taking care of the outside, I'm suddenly in the mood to take care of the inside. So I'm cleaning. You care to join me?”

Sighing, Josh walked into the room, picked up a box and carried it out. She'd made it clear he wasn't going to get another thing out of her until she was damn good and ready.

 

The
Blackberry Gazette
was delivered at the usual time. 6:00 p.m. Beth had thrown herself into her work on the old house all day, and the time had flown past. It was good, working this hard. Kept her mind off her impending and inevitable confrontation with Mordecai, and her growing feelings for a man she knew was lying to her. But she was finished with lies.

As the afternoon wore on, the two bedrooms Maude had
used for storage were cleaned out, things sorted, stored in the attic or basement or the garden shed beside the house, or stacked on the porch to be given away. Beth polished hardwood floors and washed woodwork, dusted corners and buffed light fixtures. She took her time, partly in order to do an extra good job—but mostly to avoid having to have a real conversation with Josh before the newspaper arrived.

As she worked, Josh brought down furniture from where it was stored in the attic: beds, dressers, trunks. It was like a treasure hunt up there, and they scrubbed and polished and set things up. A few new mattresses, a little paint here and there, and the two rooms would be as ready to use as the rest.

As much as Beth had told herself not to, she was starting to get excited about the idea of reopening the Blackberry Inn.

She was wiping the streaks from a bedroom window when she saw the newspaper boy whiz past on his bicycle at top speed, canvas sack over his shoulder. He reached back, tugged out a rolled-up newspaper, whipped it toward the porch and never even missed a beat.

She drew a breath, set down her paper towel and wiped her hands. “Ready for a break?”

Josh had removed a couple of doors from their hinges, put them on sawhorses, and was sanding them down, getting rid of old paint. “Just about.”

She saw that he was nearly finished with the second one. “Meet me downstairs when you're ready. I'm gonna make fresh coffee.”

“Okay.”

She went past him, out of the room and down the stairs, and felt his eyes on her as he finally got the message that something
was up. He was washed up and in the kitchen before she finished measuring ground roast into the basket.

She looked up at him, at the question in his eyes, gave him a single nod and said, “Would you go grab the evening paper off the front porch for me?”

“Sure.”

He left. She ran water, poured it and braced herself, knowing he wasn't going to be happy. When he came back with the newspaper in his hand, she could see that was an understatement. He blinked down at the front page, then looked slowly up at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Jesus, Beth. What the hell did you do?”

She sighed. “What I had to do.”

“This is insane. My God, the government has bent over backward to keep your whereabouts and identity secret.”

“From Mordecai,” she said. “But he's already found me. There's nothing to gain by keeping my past a secret any longer. Besides, this will flush him out. Even though the tourists are starting to go home, the town is too crowded for us to find him otherwise. The place is still full of strangers.”

Josh lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, it'll flush him out. Him and every reporter in the freaking country.”

“It's a small-town newspaper.”

“It's a huge story.” He shook his head and set the paper on the table.

She sat down, pulling it closer to her and reading the headline. “‘Sole Survivor of Long Ago Raid Alive and Well in Blackberry.'”

“It's going to be a circus here by this time tomorrow, Beth.”

She hadn't thought that far ahead. The article told the story
of her time at the Young Believers' Compound, her injury in the raid, the long, slow recovery that followed, and the fact that fugitive cult leader Mordecai Young's obsession with her had been renewed a year ago, when she “single-handedly rescued one of her students from the madman, risking her own life in the process.”

“It makes me sound like some kind of hero.”

“You are, Beth. You went after a man you should have been avoiding at all costs.”

“But not for just any student. For my daughter.”

He shrugged. “I take it you didn't tell the reporter that part.”

“Of course not. That's no one's business.” She gave the paper a shake. “He makes me sound like some kind of superhero teacher, rushing after kidnappers in defense of her students.”

He smiled just a little. “I'm not so sure he was all that inaccurate.”

“Please.”

Josh shrugged and went to read over her shoulder as Beth bent over the paper again. The story went on to describe how the government had given her the new name Beth Slocum and relocated her in Blackberry, Vermont. It talked about how, though voted outstanding teacher of the year in her former district, she'd never sought employment in the local school system of her new town, knowing the still-at-large murderer would be more likely to look for her at schools, and that if he found her, her presence would put the student body at risk.

“Looks like Eric Lewiston did a little research on his own today. Phoned my old district. I never told him any of this, and a lot of it's pure speculation.” She read aloud. “‘Her past, and the threat that this woman has lived with every day, ought to raise some serious questions in the minds of all of us—es
pecially given the recent explosion of her home, allegedly due to a gas leak. Elizabeth Marcum claims she has reason to believe her nemesis has tracked her down and may be in our area even now, using an alias, likely disguised, just biding his time. While Marcum would neither confirm nor deny it, I believe she plans to relocate as soon as arrangements can be made, rather than giving the madman reason to linger in our town. In the meantime, residents should be vigilant and watchful. Granted, we've grown used to the presence of strangers. And I'm not advocating panic or mistrust of the tourists that are this town's lifeblood. Just vigilance. Watch out for each other. That's what we do in Blackberry.'”

She set the paper down, sighing.

“You're planning to leave after all?” Josh asked, leaning closer and searching her eyes.

“I didn't say that.”

“According to him, you didn't deny it, either.” He narrowed his eyes. “What is this, Beth?”

She drew a breath, pushed her chair away from the table and paced to the sink to stare out the window into the backyard. “I might have hinted that I was going to leave town.”

“Why?”

Straightening her spine, she turned, hands braced on the sink counter. “Because Mordecai won't wait if he thinks I'm about to run again. It's taken him a year to find me. He won't risk me slipping away, going into hiding again.”

“You're forcing his hand.”

She nodded.

Josh got up and strode across the room to where she stood. He put his hands firmly on her shoulders. “You've ensured he'll come after you as soon as he can.”

“Maybe even as soon as he reads this,” she said, lowering her eyes.

“God, Beth.”

“I know you're angry. But I'm tired, Josh. I need this to be over with. I'm either going to get my life back or lose it for good. Either way, it's long overdue.”

He closed his eyes, sighed and slid his arms around her. God, it felt good, his solid form pressing against her, supporting her.