The Green-Eyed Doll (27 page)

Saturday, September 2nd, 1:00 p.m.

“When we finish the dishes, I should be going. I didn’t want you to worry when you didn’t see my car in the drive.” Catherine hadn’t intended on staying, but Emma offered lunch.

“I’m glad you told me. You’re being stubborn to not take my car. It’s old but serviceable.” They stood side-by-side while washing and drying the dishes.

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here alone with no means of transportation. It wouldn’t be safe.” Catherine rinsed a plate and passed it to Emma.

“You’re a sweet child.” She paused, her gaze drifting to the window, and her face softened. “My mother lived in the country all her life without a car. I have everything I need right here.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’ve already made arrangements to be picked up today and Sunday.”

“Then you’ll take mine starting Monday. Discussion’s over. I insist.”

Catherine blinked back tears. Emma’s kindness knew no boundaries. The people she’d found in Butte Crest didn’t exist in today’s world. She must’ve driven into an old episode of the Twilight Zone.

“You make me miss my mother. She’d have loved you.”

“I figured you were alone. Too bad. A person needs family.”

“I have a brother, but we’ve been estranged for years. We talk occasionally but haven’t found firm footing, not yet. Too much happened. My fault...not his.”

“Guess I’ll have to step in and fill that void. If you’ll let me.”

Emotions flooded Catherine’s chest to the point of pain. From out of nowhere, memories of past friends and family who’d turned accusing eyes toward her made her heart ache. The pain hit like a powerful wave, knocking her off her feet. She sat down hard.

Emma quietly refilled their tea glasses and joined her at the table. “Carrying a burden around all by yourself can be mighty daunting. Thank goodness you’ve found a new home where people love and care about you.” She extended both her hands across the table. “You can finally lay it down. Leave it here with me.”

Tears flowed from Catherine’s eyes. A dam broke in her heart and words poured out, flowing fast like the river after a spring rain. The moment was surreal, as if her spirit hovered above her body while someone else unraveled the past and laid it out for Emma to see. The years of abuse, the cruelty, the belief she had no one and nowhere to go, spewed from her mouth. Bile rose and burned the back of her throat while she explained how she’d fought for her life then ultimately killed her husband.

“Emma, I’m responsible for taking another person’s life.” Self-recrimination Catherine thought she’d worked through bubbled out on a sob. The taste as bitter as it had been over a year ago.

Emma’s delicate hands remained on the table. Still open. Still waiting. She didn’t pull them away after learning Catherine’s horrible story. Catherine clasped them in hers and squeezed.

“Forgive yourself, child. No one else can do that for you.”

Catherine looked into Emma’s warm eyes. She showed no sign of blame or disgust. Her expression was understanding and love.

“You’re the first person I’ve told. Ever. Most of the time I don’t have to tell. Somebody recognizes me and calls the local newspaper. I left Oklahoma to get away from the shame.”

“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of. I didn’t run from the room screaming and hollering...did I?” Emma released her hands and retrieved a box of tissues. “Tell your story. Tell anybody and everybody who’ll listen. Gives folks a chance. They’ll surprise you.”

“It’s hard. I’ve tried, but I lose my nerve.”

“Better they hear it from you instead of on the TV. Sylvia Horning did an awful thing yesterday, telling how the sheriff let his partner get killed. Must’ve hurt him something powerful.”

“I didn’t know. Oh, Emma. Something was bothering him last night. You can bet somebody told him.” Catherine’s lunch soured. Why hadn’t she followed him outside? She wanted to run to him and hold him in her arms forever.

“The Horning woman said he failed in Houston and came here to hide. She’s a mean-spirited woman, that’s what she is.”

Catherine’s heartbeat jumped when she glanced at the clock on the wall. “I don’t believe the time got away from me. I have to run. Marty will be here soon.” She hugged Emma close. “Thank you for listening. And for believing in me.”

****

Saturday, September 2nd, 4:00 p.m.

Staking out her house was turning into a fuckin’ disaster. Things turned for the better when JC called. It seemed he’d told Catherine he could get her a good deal at the garage. Who the fuck did JC think he was promising shit he had no control over?

Nothing had happened except for Catherine running up to the main house. An old woman let her in, and she’d stayed inside for a long time. When she finally came out, she’d hit the ground at a run.

Wasn’t long after, Marty pulled into the drive and honked. Catherine, all dressed up in her western clothes ran out and jumped in the car. Soon as they left, he was taking a quick leak and then he’d go straight to the trailer. Jessie would be hungry. He was too. Hungry to have her red lips wrapped around his cock. He’d feed her all right. She’d earn every bite.

He let Marty and Catherine get out of sight before unzipping and taking a pause for the cause. He’d slid behind the wheel when a red pickup came into sight. His fingers squeezed together in fists. JC in his big Dodge Ram and oversized tires. What the fuck was the sonofabitch doing? Did he think Catherine was still here? JC parked on the road and crept around the main house to the back carrying a small package. The sneaky bastard disappeared.

The hornets’ nest woke up with a vengeance. The buzzing in his ears grew louder, and his jaw hurt. His mouth tasted like iron. Shit, he’d bit a chunk out of the inside of his cheek.

Ten minutes later JC came back, got in his truck, and drove away. Stupid fucker discovered she wasn’t home, but the package was gone. What’d he leave her?

He hiked a good two blocks down the road before cutting through the pasture and coming up behind the small house. Goddammit, the old woman had come out. She was looking around. Had she seen JC? He leaned flat against the back of a rundown barn. He had no excuse for being on the property. What if she caught him? Shit, he’d have to kill her. No way was he explaining what he was doing out here. He could see the top of her head from his vantage point when she walked back down the drive and disappeared into the main house. No reason to turn back now.

The window on the back door revealed nothing except the usual kitchen stuff. A tiny separation in the curtains on the next window told him what he needed to know. JC had been inside. He couldn’t have a key. Could he? Why wouldn’t he have used the front door?

JC had left her a present. Lying in the middle of her bed was the box with a card on top of it. The hornets’ nest exploded. The buzzing grew louder and louder. They wanted out...clawed at the inside of his skull. His fingers curled into fists from the need to smash the glass and take the gift. He closed his eyes and forced the anger to still.

Careful not to leave footprints, he made his way back to his pickup and left.

JC was a dead motherfucker.

Chapter Twenty-One

Sunday, September 3rd, 4:00 a.m.

Catherine ran out the door and into Matt’s arms. He staggered backward under the full brunt of her weight. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, she buried her face in his neck. Tears of anger, fear, and frustration flowed unchecked. His strong hands lifted her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a child and carried her back inside.

“Shh,” he shushed her softly. “You’re okay.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” She wiped her eyes, not caring mascara streaked down her face. He was here, and she could relax a little. “I’ve cried more in front of you than I’ve cried in years.”

“And that’s okay.” He turned, still holding her in his arms and zeroed his gaze in on Ash. “You,” Matt emphasized the word with a growl. “Can explain what you’re doing in my woman’s house at four in the morning. Later. For now, I’m damn grateful you were.”

My woman
. She let the phrase roll around in her heart and flow into her veins. His woman. As possessive as it sounded, Matt’s definition was different from her dead husband’s. She could face anything after that statement.

“Put me down, John.” She wriggled from his grasp while ignoring Ash’s odd expression. Her nickname for Matt would stay between them like his name for her of Cat. Her hands shook. She laced her fingers through his and led him to the back room.

“The sonofabitch came in your bedroom.” Matt’s jaw muscles jumped and twitched. He stood by her bed looking at the unopened package. A cold glaze clouded his blue eyes, turning them the color of an angry sea. He spun on Ash. “You checked the windows and doors?”

“Yep. Everything’s secure, but a credit card will pop either the front or the back door. The locks in the house are ancient. You have gloves in your truck?”

“Box on the floor.” Matt pressed his fingers to his temples. He blew out a breath.

“I didn’t touch it.” Catherine’s skin burned with the anger raging through his system. His face, full of hate, brought tears to her eyes. No one had ever been protective of her, never been ready to fight for her. Sweet pain curled around her heart and tightened when he pulled her to him.

“Are you all right?” He lowered his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

“I am now.” In that moment...that singular moment, she dove head first into deep water. Way in over her head. This happiness. This euphoria. She’d be destroyed if his unwavering devotion disappeared.

The snap of latex brought the sheriff back to the job at hand. The swift change in Matt’s posture and appearance was startling. He slid on the gloves offered by Ash before carefully picking the envelope up from the bed. Ash passed Matt a small knife, and he slit the top in one motion. A picture slid out.

“What is it?” She moved closer with both hands behind her back. The last thing she wanted to do was touch any part of the so-called gift.

“I don’t know. Red material?” Matt leaned closer. “Catherine, what does it look like to you?”

“You know what it reminds me of? The brown satin in that Dove’s chocolate commercial.”

Matt flipped the picture over and read. “I can see you lying on these wearing my present.”

“Fucking satin sheets.” Ash glanced at Matt. “Oops. Sorry, Catherine.”

“No problem.” His apology might’ve been funny another time and place. Right this minute, his words felt appropriate.

“He sealed the envelope. May’ve been his first mistake.”

Matt pulled the top of the small box off, picked up the lacy, white gown by the straps, and laid it across the mattress. His face flushed red. The nerves in his jaw twitched.

“Get that thing off my bed.” She literally had to push the words out. “Please.” Catherine wanted to take Ash’s pocketknife and slash the gown to shreds. Blood rushed to her brain while her heart beat out a rhythm of fear. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her body from trembling. Dammit, she hated being out of control. Take charge of your mind, her martial arts instructor had preached.

“I’ve got it.” Ash carefully stacked the envelope, picture, and nightgown into the small box. “I’ll drop this off with the dispatcher on my way home.”

“Thanks for the ride. I’m glad you insisted on looking around,” she said. Ash pulled her in for a hug.

“Simply a ploy to get inside.” His words were joking, but his eyes were deadly serious when he turned to Matt. “Pray the SOB licked the envelope, and he’s in the system.”

Catherine walked Ash to the door. Drawers slamming sent her rushing to her bedroom. Matt had piled some of her clothes on the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Packing you some stuff. You’re coming home with me.”

Her jaw dropped. He made no effort to hide his fury. His tone barely covered the rage. Anger seeped from his pores.

“Wait a damn minute.” Her things tossed haphazardly sent her reeling. “How dare you order me around?” She stormed across the room and slammed the drawer closed he’d opened. “How dare you come in my bedroom and handle my underwear?”

Matt stared at the fingers that barely escaped being smashed. “You can’t stay here alone.”

“I told you once before. Don’t tell me what to do.” The sound of her own screeching voice sounded alien to her. A shrew-like woman had moved in to her body and was screaming. She wanted to pull back, had lost control of all reason. Something pushed her on.

Thank goodness, Matt stepped back.

“Where’s your car?” His voice was a whisper.

“It broke down. JC had a buddy tow it to a local garage.” Nerves simmered and stretched right to the edge. Her car, her finances, two jobs, the unbearable heat, and the lunatic had pushed her too far. No one...not even the man she might be in love with would bark orders at her as if she were subservient to him.

His head turned slowly, revealing eyes the color of coal. “When did this happen?”

Catherine picked up a pair of jeans and straightened them out. She made an effort to keep her voice calm. “Friday night.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” His jaw muscle twitched, and his lips barely moved.

“Because I worked things out for myself. That’s what I do. I take care of my own problems.” She knew that statement was a lie. She couldn’t keep the stalker out of her own home. But the point of backing down had passed.

Matt closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. She could feel the heat coming off him. See him rein in his emotions. Without another word, he stormed out.

Catherine stomped into the bathroom and closed the door. She couldn’t jerk her clothes off fast enough. She stepped into the shower and stood while the water ran full blast. She scrubbed because her skin felt dirty, her hair and body reeked of cigarette smoke, and then she scrubbed again. Tears of anger, fear, and frustration mingled with the warm torrent sluicing across her exhausted frame. Why had she snapped at Matt? Why hadn’t she stopped him? His fury wasn’t directed at her. Great, now she could add guilt to the mix of emotions racing through her nervous system.