Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon (13 page)

Gabriel stepped into her room. “Mind if I have a seat if I plan on offering up an apology?”

She wanted to be angry with him, but he truly looked contrite, and she just couldn’t summon any emotion except the love that threatened to bubble out of her.

“Sounds like a fair trade,” she replied and made room for him on the sofa.

He sank down as if he weighed a thousand pounds. “I’m sorry. I acted like a jerk earlier.”

“Yes, you did,” she agreed easily. “You’re lucky I’m not a woman who holds a grudge. And tomorrow morning when I make your breakfast, I promise you I’m not going to hum. I’m going to sing at the top of my lungs just because it will aggravate you.”

“Your humming doesn’t aggravate me. This case has aggravated me, and you were a handy scapegoat.” He raked a hand through his thick hair and leaned back. “As if Sam’s family’s disappearance isn’t enough, we still haven’t figured out why anyone would want to hurt you.”

“Maybe because they heard me humming?” she said in an effort to bring a smile to his face.

It worked. His sensual lips curved upward and he released a small laugh. “You aren’t going to let me off the hook, are you?”

“You’re off the hook. I just wanted to see your smile.” Her love for him pressed hard against her chest and teased on the tip of her tongue with the need to be released, with the intense desire to be spoken aloud. “I care about you, Gabriel.”

His smile fell away, and instead a deep frown cut across his forehead.

“It upsets you that I care about you.”

“That’s your problem, not mine,” he scoffed.

“I know, but you can’t do anything about how I feel about you. You can’t stop me from caring about you, from wanting to comfort you when you’re sad, from sharing your laughter when you’re happy. You can’t stop me from falling in love with you, Gabriel, and I am in love with you.”

His shoulders stiffened defensively. “Those pain pills you’ve been taking have definitely addled your mind.” It was obvious he was uncomfortable with the conversation. He twisted on the sofa as if to gain more distance from her, as if afraid she might decide to reach out and touch him in some way.

“It’s okay, Gabriel. You don’t have to do anything about it. You don’t even have to care. I just want you to know that you are loved, that you’re worth something and that somebody cares about you and wants you to find happiness.”

For the first time since she’d met him, he appeared speechless and more than a little bit stunned. “Why are you telling me this?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know. I just felt like I needed you to know. Maybe it’s because I’ve been reminded in the past weeks how fragile life is and I wanted you to know how I felt about you if something happens and I don’t get a chance to tell you. Consider it a gift from me to you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” he said firmly.

“I hope not, but there are no guarantees, and you have to admit you don’t have a clue who might have tried to hurt me.”

“After talking to Thomas, we went by Pamela Winter’s place to speak with her.” It was an obvious attempt for him to guide the conversation away from personal things and back to the reason he was here at the bed-and-breakfast. “Her alibi for the time that you were pushed down the stairs is that she was at home alone. She received no phone calls, nobody saw her, so there’s no way for us to know if she’s telling the truth or not.”

“I don’t understand. What would Pamela hope to gain by killing me now? Daniella is gone, and in one week, Cory and I are heading out of here.”

Gabriel shrugged. “We figured maybe Pamela doesn’t believe you’re really going to leave.”

“I don’t know. Considering that Daniella is missing, it just doesn’t make sense to me that Pamela would do something like this.”

“I can’t figure any of this out, but I know you’re wrong about me.” He stood. “My own mother decided I wasn’t worth loving, and nobody has made me feel any different about myself since then.”

Her heart ached as she heard the empty hollowness in his voice. “I could,” she said softly. “I do.”

“Hey, sis.” Cory’s voice came from nearby. He appeared in the doorway holding two glasses of chocolate milk. He stopped short as he saw Gabriel. “Oh, is this a bad time?”

“No, I was just leaving.” Gabriel shot out of the room as if he’d just been looking for a reason to make a hasty retreat.

As he left, he took her heart. She’d laid it all out on the line, had spoken the words of love that had burned inside her, and he’d refused to either accept or return that love to her.

What shocked her was that she’d believed she was prepared for exactly the response she’d gotten from him. She hadn’t been prepared for the sweeping heartache that filled her as she watched him leave.

Chapter Twelve

She loved him.

Gabriel had left her sitting area and had immediately gone upstairs to his own room, where he’d paced the small confines and tried to erase her words of love from his mind.

Somehow her actually saying it out loud had shocked him, but if he looked deep in his heart, he’d already known she was falling in love with him. He’d seen it in her eyes when she gazed at him, had felt it in the most simple of touches.

He’d warned her in a dozen ways not to love him, that he was incapable of returning that emotion, but it obviously hadn’t made any difference to her.

One week,
he told himself. In a week she’d be gone. She and Cory would leave here the way they had arrived: in her beat-up old car, with a suitcase full of clothes. The only difference was she’d leave with enough money to start a new life.

She would not leave with him, and he refused to return her gift of love back to her. It was her problem, not his, and she would just have to fall out of love with him.

Once he felt as if he had his wayward emotions under control, he went back downstairs to retrieve the information about Daniella and Macy’s kidnapping. He knew it was a long shot that he’d find anything in that paperwork to help with the current situation, but he had to do something, and at least it might take his mind off Marlena.

It was just after nine when he took off his gun and holster and sat at the dining room table with the folder in front of him. Marlena’s door was closed, indicating that Cory had left and she was probably in bed.

Andrew had gone upstairs a few minutes earlier, and Jackson was planted on the sofa in the common room watching the end of an old movie.

Other than the distant sound of the television drifting through the air, the house was silent. For several long moments he sat with his eyes closed, playing and replaying every second he’d spent with Marlena.

For the first time in his life he’d felt softness, he’d experienced kindness and, yes, he’d felt the nudge of love attempting to take possession of his heart.

With an irritated sigh, he opened his eyes and stared at the thick folder on the table in front of him.
First things first,
he thought, deciding to make a small pot of coffee before delving into the elements of a case that had occurred over two years before.

The coffee was dripping into the carafe when Jackson stepped into the kitchen. “I’m heading off to bed, unless you want me to help you go through that material.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine by myself.” Gabriel stepped closer to the coffeepot that had finished making the four cups that should see him through the rest of the night. “I’ll catch you in the morning.”

Jackson nodded. “Good night, Gabriel.”

Gabriel poured his coffee and returned to the dining room table. This time the silence of the house was complete around him. He took a sip of coffee and opened the file.

Within minutes he had disappeared into the crime that had occurred so long ago, a crime that had brought two people to love but not before danger had struck.

As Gabriel read, he scribbled away in his own notebook, noting the people who had been players in Daniella’s drama and listing who of those players was still around.

He paused occasionally to sip his coffee and stare out the nearby window, fighting thoughts of Marlena and her words of love for him.

Was it truly possible that he could be loved, that he wasn’t a throwaway child who had become a tossed-away man? Had he so embraced the fact that his mother hadn’t wanted him, that his father had needed to beat him, that he’d never let go of that baggage? That he’d become what they’d indicated him to be? Not worth caring about, not worth loving? So then, why could Marlena believe herself in love with him?

At thirty-four years old, he was far too old to change his ways now. He was alone and had always been alone. Besides, Marlena was in a state of transition and grief. Her friends had been missing for over two weeks, and her own life had been threatened twice. With all that emotion inside her, she was probably grasping onto something solid, and he just happened to be there.

Feeling a little better, being able to rationalize away Marlena’s words of love, he got another cup of coffee, and then left the dining room and headed to the bathroom just off the common area.

Once there he sluiced cool water over his face in an effort to fight the drowsiness that had begun to overtake him as he’d pored over the notes, lists of evidence and interviews.

He leaned back against the door, wondering how it was possible that three trained, professional FBI agents couldn’t get a grasp on what had happened here.

They had worked many cases together and separately in the past, and they’d always closed the case, found the bad guy and seen him or her thrown in jail.

But this case had them all stymied, spinning around like Keystone Kops, hoping to bump into a bad guy. He splashed water on his face once again, dried off and then left the bathroom.

He walked back through the common room and returned to the dining room table, where he focused on the crime of Daniella and Macy’s kidnapping.

Frank Mathis had obviously been psychotic. He’d not only killed Daniella’s first husband, Johnny, but he’d believed Daniella and Macy were destined to be his own family.

He’d managed to get in through the window of the rooms Marlena now called home, then had dragged Daniella and Macy outside and carried them away.

As the investigation had continued, Frank hadn’t even been on the list of suspects until Sam had run out of potentials and had begun to look at the gardener more closely.

Sam, along with Sheriff Thompson, had finally decided to follow Frank home, and on that night they’d discovered that what had been an old storm shelter in the ground near Frank’s cottage had been transformed into a bunkerlike apartment where Daniella and Macy had been locked away.

Gabriel sat up straighter in the chair. A bunker? Hidden someplace near the cottage? He hadn’t heard anything about it until now.

He doubted that John, the current gardener, even knew it was there. He stared out the window to the darkness beyond. Did Marlena know about the bunker? Had its existence simply slipped her mind?

Was it possible that the Connelly family could be that close? Held for some reason on their own property in a secret bunker under the ground?

Adrenaline shot through him as his gaze searched outside the window where the darkness was profound. How could he find a secret bunker at night when he didn’t know precisely where it was?

And why hadn’t Sheriff Thompson mentioned the place where Daniella and Macy had been confined? Did the man have one foot so far out the door into retirement that he’d missed an important element to share with the agents who had taken over the latest crime?

Again he glanced at Marlena’s door. Was it possible she was still awake? That she might be able to pinpoint for him the entrance to the underground bunker?

There was only one way to find out. He knocked softly on the door that led into her private quarters, unsurprised when he didn’t hear an answering response.

He grabbed hold of the knob and breathed a sigh of relief as it turned in his hand. He opened it and followed the faint glow of the night-light that shone from her bedroom.

It was just a little after eleven. Maybe she wasn’t so deeply asleep that he could wake her enough to find out what she knew.

Surely Daniella would have talked about her time in captivity. She might have taken Marlena to the place near the cottage where Frank Mathis had held her and Macy against their wills.

Silently he crept toward her bedroom door. If he couldn’t get the answers he needed from her now, then he’d get the good sheriff and some of his men out here with lights to find the cellar door apparently built into the earth.

He took a step into Marlena’s room and instantly froze in horrified shock. Marlena was in the bed, but she wasn’t alone. In the pale illumination from the night-light, he could see the slithering of snakes at all four corners of the bed. They were not just any snakes, but cottonmouths—poisonous, deadly snakes.

Two things instantly pierced through his shock. First, Marlena lay on her back, not moving. He couldn’t even be sure if she was breathing. Second, his gun. He needed his gun.

As he took a step backward, the snakes coiled and vibrated their tails as their mouths gaped open to display a startling whiteness.

Afraid of moving too fast and agitating them further, with agonizing slowness he backed out of the room and then raced toward the dining room where he’d left his gun on the table.

She’d looked dead. Had the cottonmouth snakes already bitten her enough times to deliver sufficient venom to stop her heart? His hand shook as he grabbed his gun, and then he crept silently back to her bedroom doorway.

The snakes stirred with ominous intent. It was like a picture from a nightmare, the snakes guarding the innocent princess...or determined to keep her as their own.

The only sounds in the room were the snakes’ hissing and the thunder of his heartbeat. His hand slickened with nervous sweat as he tightened his grip on the gun, trying to decide if he could shoot one without the other three striking at her, if he could kill one without the bullet winging her at the same time.

A fear he’d never known backed up in his throat, making him feel nauseous as he tried to make a decision, any decision that would do no more harm to Marlena than had already been done.

His aversion to snakes disappeared as his only thought was to get them away from her. She had yet to move, making him worry he was already too late.

He stared at the snake closest to where he stood. Could he grab it by the tail and pull it off the bed without stirring up the others? He had to do something. If Marlena had been bitten, then she needed emergency care as soon as possible.

Despite his own healthy fear and repugnance of snakes, he knew he couldn’t stand by any longer. With a deep breath, he grabbed the tail of the nearest snake and whirled around to smash it against the nearby wall. He turned quickly and shot the snake at the top of the bed closest to Marlena.

As he popped off two more shots to kill the others, he was vaguely aware of the rumble of footsteps. The air smelled of cordite and snake guts, and one more lingering odor.

As Jackson raced into the room and flipped on the overhead light, he gasped in stunned surprise.

“What the hell?” Andrew said from behind him.

“Call the sheriff and call for an ambulance,” Gabriel cried as he dropped his gun and then rushed to Marlena’s side. The deafening gunshots hadn’t awakened her. She hadn’t moved during the entire drama, and that terrified him.

“Marlena.” He touched her face and still she didn’t stir, although he was grateful to realize that she was breathing—but that didn’t mean she wasn’t in grave danger.

He had no idea if the snakes had been beneath her covers, if there were bite marks he couldn’t see, but he was also afraid to move her, afraid that doing so would make her heart pump faster, make the venom flow more freely through her veins.

“Sheriff Thompson and an ambulance are on the way,” Andrew said from the doorway.

“Marlena, open your eyes.” Gabriel fell to his knees at the side of the bed, his gaze focused solely on the woman there and how dead she already looked. “Marlena, for God’s sake, wake up.” Anguish squeezed his heart so hard he could scarcely breathe.

Jackson placed a hand on his shoulder. “Gabriel, get up. She’s not going to wake up.” Gabriel shot him a frantic glance.

“She’s not sleeping. She’s unconscious.”

Gabriel stumbled to his feet and fought against a burning pain in his eyes, the squeezing vise of his heart. How had this happened? She’d told him she loved him—she couldn’t die now.

“I came in...and she was there on the bed, with four snakes next to her.... I shot three of them....” His voice trailed off, and then he continued, “They didn’t end up in here accidentally.”

Within minutes the ambulance arrived, and two stocky paramedics moved Marlena from the bed to a stretcher. They were focused on their victim, professional in their demeanor. Neither of them mentioned the dead snake parts and guts that littered the room.

As they wheeled Marlena to the awaiting ambulance, Gabriel ran after them. At the same time, Sheriff Thompson arrived and got out of his car. Obviously the call had pulled him out of bed. His shirt was half-buttoned, and his thin gray hair stood on end. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Talk to Jackson and Andrew,” Gabriel said as he started to climb into the back of the ambulance, only to be stopped by one of the paramedics.

“Nobody can ride back here. Regulations and all that,” he said. He slammed the back door and the ambulance backed up to leave.

Gabriel fumbled in his pocket, grateful that he still had the car keys. Ignoring the sheriff, he raced for his car. He had to be with her. He had to see if she made it to the hospital alive.

* * *

G
ABRIEL
SAT
IN
the hospital waiting room alone, after explaining to the doctor that it was possible Marlena had suffered numerous cottonmouth bites.

He’d been thankful that she’d still been breathing when they’d taken her back to the examining room. And as he waited to see that she would survive this night, new emotions warred inside him.

Seated in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair, he recognized that he loved her, that he would always care about what happened to her. That didn’t mean he intended to walk side by side with her for the rest of her life, but it did mean he was capable of loving and being loved, and that was an epiphany he’d have to explore another time.

The second emotion that built up inside him was rage of overwhelming proportions. Somebody had wanted those snakes to bite her, to deposit their venom inside her and kill her.

Somebody had wanted her dead, and he believed he now knew who that somebody was. The only reason he wasn’t going after the person now was because he had to know if Marlena lived. He had to know if he was going to beat the hell out of somebody for a murder or an attempted-murder rap.