Safe From the Dark (12 page)

 She
pulled up behind him in the driveway and hoped that he was as tired as she was
– she felt raw, and wasn’t ready for another confrontation. Colin got out of
the truck and started toward her, but suddenly the front door opened and Tom
stumbled out, his eyes wide with shock, blood on his hands and shirt.

“Colin,
it’s Deirdre – she’s dead.”

THE
WHOLE TOWN TURNED out for Deirdre’s funeral two days later. She may have had a
reputation, but she was one of Bright’s Ferry’s own, and the community was
horrified and saddened by her abrupt and brutal death.

In
the small cemetery overlooking the bay, Colin stood over the gravesite with
Jenny Bright and Susan Gunterson, who wept openly next to Deirdre’s parents as
the preacher performed the service. From the corner of his eye, he could see
Evie standing with Tony at the edge of the crowd, not listening but watching
instead, taking in the expressions and reactions of his friends and neighbors
with her sharp gray eyes.

It
bothered him, the idea that someone he knew and cared for had most probably
done this – the crimes were too personal to be a random killer passing through,
but the rational conclusion was almost impossible to believe. It bothered him
more that he seemed to be at the center of the killer’s focus, and as a result,
the people in his life were now in danger.

He
stared down at Deirdre’s coffin as it was lowered into the ground, thinking
about the loss of a beautiful, fun-loving woman, overwhelmed by guilt.

The
blood on Tom’s hands and clothes had been Deirdre’s. As he explained it later,
he’d been in the living room when he heard the gunshot, and raced upstairs to
find the hall window open and Deirdre lying in a pool of blood in the guest
room. Tom was nearly incoherent as he explained how he tried to revive her, but
Evie gently assured him that there was nothing he could do. Her voice was
softer and more soothing than Colin had ever heard it.

Colin
sent Tom home with strict instructions to rest, and then Tony arrived, and the
whole search process had begun all over again. It was a long, grueling night,
and by the time the EMTs had taken Deirdre’s body, and Tony had left Zeke and a
volunteer firefighter built like a truck to guard the house, the sky was
already starting to lighten.

Colin
took one look at Evie, swaying with exhaustion, and swept her off her feet,
carrying her upstairs to lay her down in his bed. She protested, of course, but
was asleep before he even got her shoes off. He removed her jacket, but left
the rest of her clothing on, remembering with vivid clarity that she had
nothing on underneath the jeans and light shirt.

If
he were a better man, he admitted to himself, he would have taken the couch. Instead,
Colin climbed into bed behind her and pulled her back to his chest, relieved
and gratified when she murmured softly and snuggled back against him, her ass nestling
perfectly against his groin, her hands clutching his arm between her breasts,
the softness of her hair at his mouth. After the shock and stress of the night,
the living warmth of her body against his felt like Heaven, but he only had a
moment to savor it before sinking into sleep like a stone.

When
he woke, she was gone.

Colin
hadn’t seen her since, and he, Tom, and Candace were underwater at the office
as the rumors started to fly and the panicked community demanded answers. Yesterday,
Tony had marched in to confiscate the hate mailbox, and Colin had managed to
pry small bits of information from him – the gun that shot at them was the same
one used to kill Deirdre.

Evie
had basically moved in down at the Sheriff’s Department, catnapping in the
town’s one holding cell for a few hours at a time in between taking statements
from every woman on Colin’s list, cataloguing and labeling every scrap of
evidence.

The
grief and anger over Deirdre’s death was momentarily swamped by sheer horror as
he imagined what the woman who held his fascination was uncovering by
interrogating all the women he’d pursued over the past couple of years.

God,
if she was wary about me before…

AS
THE CROWD DISPERSED, offering their condolences to Deirdre’s parents and
tossing flowers into the grave as they passed, Evie watched carefully, noting
who lingered, who hurried away, who fidgeted during the ceremony, and who wept.
But she was distracted, her gaze moving back to Colin again and again.

He
was grave and pale, his hazel eyes filled with emotion, gorgeous in a black
suit, and Evie felt a low hum of hostility as women approached to hug him and
press their cheeks against his, offering comfort and perhaps more. Some were
blatant about it, some less so, but Evie found she was getting good at figuring
out which of Bright’s Ferry’s female residents were just friends, and which
were dying to jump Colin Daniels’ finely-sculpted bones.

Evie
watched Grace give Colin’s hand a sympathetic squeeze, and then was surprised
when the young woman, her purple hair artfully pulled back into an elaborate
braid, smiled at her and headed in her direction.

“I
just wanted to make sure you were okay. Crazy couple of days, huh?”

“It’s
not what I expected when I decided to move back here, that’s for sure.”

Grace
considered her with clear brown eyes, and Evie felt like squirming.

“Why
don’t you stop by the library later? We can grab some lunch and you can fill me
in.”

“I
can’t really talk about the case – ”

“Not
about that. I want hear all about how you managed to turn Colin inside out.”

Evie
started to protest, but Grace laughed.

“Don’t
bother. I’ve known him since the third grade, and he’s never been as rattled by
anyone as he is by you.”

“I’m
not sleeping with him,” Evie blurted out.
Not technically, anyway.

“Maybe
you should start.” Grace’s eyes twinkled, “From what I hear, it’s quite the earth-shattering
experience. Not that I would know firsthand, of course. Too much of a big
brother, little sister vibe there.”

She
wrinkled her nose and Evie’s mouth stretched in an answering grin.

“But
seriously,” Grace asked, sobering, “Is he in danger? I keep hearing rumors about
stalkers and serial killers. Some people are even saying that Deirdre committed
suicide because Colin wouldn’t marry her, which is nonsense. I know it’s a
horrible thing to say, but the woman thought way too much of herself to
deliberately deprive the men of Bright’s Ferry of her presence. If there is
someone out there – someone that might hurt Colin – ”

“I’m
not going to let that happen. I promise.”

Impulsively,
Grace hugged her, and a surprised Evie hugged back.

“I
know you won’t,” Grace whispered.

Evie
watched her go, her long black skirts catching the breeze.

“She
likes you.”

Colin’s
voice at her elbow had her stumbling back, startled. Smoothly, he caught her
arm to steady her, and a warm tremor snaked through her at the brush of his
skin.

“You
should take that as a compliment,” Colin continued, “She doesn’t make friends
easily.”

“I
know the feeling.”

Colin
took a step closer, into her personal space, and lowered his voice to something
warm and intimate.

“You
disappeared on me the other day.”

“I’m
trying to catch a killer.”

“I
don’t want you putting yourself in danger.”

Evie
noticed belatedly that he hadn’t let go of her arm, and was rubbing a gentle
circle on the inside of her wrist that threatened to crumble her defenses.

She
barely remembered him taking her to bed after the hours searching the house and
the grounds for evidence, but she definitely remembered waking up. The feeling
of his arms around her, his solid strength at her back, and the warmth of his
breath on her neck was delicious, and she spent a few decadent minutes watching
him sleep, the sun streaming through the windows, painting his skin gold. One
soft kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth had him stirring, but he didn’t
wake as she untangled herself and sneaked out.

If
he had woken to find her soft and vulnerable, she wasn’t sure she’d have been
able to resist the heat in his eyes or those elegant hands peeling her clothing
off and pressing her into the mattress…and that would make today so much
harder.

She
pulled her arm away and he frowned.

“Colin,
it isn’t safe for us to be talking like this.”

“You’re
saying I can’t have a conversation with a woman without painting a target on
her back? I’m not going to let some freak hold me hostage.”

Evie
kept her voice low, though she really wanted to shout at him, her temper
rising.

“Not
every woman, just the women you fuck!”

“I
haven’t fucked you yet,” he breathed, “although we came damned close.”

Evie
fought the blush that was working its way up her face.

“That’s
for the best.”

“The
hell it is. Shit, I knew it was a bad idea to give you that list. Not a single
one of those women is capable of murder, and now you’ve got this image of me as
– as – ” He sputtered, unable to come up with a term shocking enough.

“As
a horny tomcat with a fear of commitment?” The barb was delivered in a dulcet
tone, and Colin glared at her.

 “I
don’t care if you sleep with half the women in Massachusetts,”
And Heaven
forgive me
for that lie, “but the stalker does. Those letters aren’t just
full of hate, Colin. They’re warnings to shape up, to repent, to make up for
all the immoral fucking around you do because you’re rich and popular and have
a great ass.” Her voice was growing louder.

“Why
don’t I get right on that?” Colin was fuming now. “I never slept with anyone
who didn’t totally understand how the cards were dealt, and I’m not going to
apologize for enjoying the hell out of each and every one of them before we
parted ways. Amicably, I might add. And if you’re going to lecture me on
immorality, why don’t we lay out your relationship history and do a little side
by side comparison?”

Evie
slapped him. She couldn’t help it. He looked as stunned as she felt, and though
the cemetery was mostly empty now, the few that lingered got a good look. Evie
was sure that they’d be fueling the gossip mill at the local watering holes
within an hour.

She
let her hand drop, clenching her fist.

“I’m
sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He
was breathing hard, but he nodded.

“I’m
sorry, too. This is why I try to keep all my relationships casual, but God,
Evie, you just push all my buttons.”

“You’re
distracting me when I need to focus on keeping you safe and on stopping that
lunatic out there. Besides, I can’t get involved. I just can’t.”

Not
again.

Colin
blew out a frustrated breath.

“This
whole situation is driving me batty. Deirdre’s been murdered. I can’t go
anywhere without a police escort. And this thing between us isn’t doing either
of us any good right now. So let’s table it until the stalker is caught. Truce?”

“Truce.
It’s just as well,” she said, with a small smile, “Casual isn’t my thing.”

“COLIN!
COLIN DANIELS. I need a word.” The voice was imperious and unfortunately, very familiar.

Colin
looked up to see Dreyer Morton hurrying up the hill, his gold-tipped walking
cane gouging holes in the cemetery turf. He didn’t actually need it, but
carried it anyway, a not-so-subtle reminder to the community that he was a
wealthy man. A
very
wealthy man who owned a piece of half the businesses
in town. The middle-aged black man was frowning, as usual, and for the millionth
time, Colin wondered how a man so successful could find so many petty little
things to be unhappy about.

“Good
afternoon, Dreyer. I didn’t realize that you and Deirdre were acquainted. How
kind of you to come pay your respects.” Colin was all smooth politeness.

Dreyer
glared at him before turning to the grave that two workmen were busily filling
in. Ignoring them, he folded his hands over his cane and tipped his head down
respectfully. After a moment, he muttered, “Amen,” and turned back to them, a
scowl on his face.

“Despite
her unfortunate promiscuity, Deirdre Small had roots in this community that
went back for generations. No parent should have to bury a child, no matter
what kind of a disappointment they turn out to be. May the poor girl rest in
peace.”

“I’ll
pass your kind words along to her parents.” Colin was having trouble keeping
his tone even, but Dreyer seemed oblivious. He spared Evie a quick glance, dismissing
her almost immediately as being beneath his notice.

“Was
there something I could do for you, Dreyer?”

“I
want to know why you’re permitting the Sheriff’s Department to question Althea.
She doesn’t know anything about this foul business.”