The Green-Eyed Doll (33 page)

“Sonofabitch.” Ash’s expletive echoed down the hallway. “Come take a look at this.”

Matt walked into the bedroom and then stumbled backward a step. Adrenaline pumped through him at supersonic speed. Bile rose up in the back of his throat and for a second, rage blinded his vision. Never in a million years would he have thought JC capable of this. The bastard had been right under his nose all the time. He removed his hat, dragging his fingers through his hair.
Blew this one. Don’t lose it.

A shrine to Catherine filled one wall. Snapshots of her in different places, wearing different outfits were tacked side-by-side and on top of the other. Matt forced his hands to remain at his sides when what he wanted to do was rip them to shreds. A digital camera sat on a small table, accompanied by a neat stack of snapshots. Matt spread them with the finger of a gloved hand. They were pictures of male body parts. No doubt to go with future gifts. Bile filled the back of his throat. He wanted ten minutes alone with this bastard alive. Matt pulled himself out of the gathering fog.

“There’s a box of clothes here on the floor.” Ash had knelt down on one knee, half in, and half out of the closet. “Odds and ends. And they’re not his.”

Matt looked over Ash’s shoulder at the assortment of women’s wear. “The forensic techs can take them to the lab. I want pictures to show the families of the murder victims. If they ID them—”

Rey calling Matt’s name pulled his attention to the front porch. “Come on, Ash. Let’s get out of here. Give these guys some space.” Maybe it was an excuse, Matt didn’t care. He needed fresh air. JC’s bedroom was closing in on him.

Jake and Rey waited in the front yard with Foster and Ruiz until Matt brought him up to speed on what he and Ash had found inside the house. Foster shifted his collections kit to the other shoulder and inched toward the house, eager to get to work.

“We’ll get you the clothes as soon as they’re processed,” Foster said. “No need making the families drive to San Antonio.”

“We didn’t search the property. I want to know everything about JC, all his secrets. If he was the killer, he had a hiding place. I have to find it.”

“You got it.” Foster and Ruiz headed inside the house.

Ruiz turned back to Matt. “Dr. Reinhardt went back to San Antonio with the body. Said to tell you Jessie Bradley’s autopsy will be as scheduled. He’s got a couple ahead of JC, couldn’t give you a date on him.”

“Hell, he performs more than one a day, doesn’t he?” Matt’s patience with the good doctor was thin. If he had time to talk to the press, he had time to work on JC.

“Sorry. He’s got a double homicide on the slab. The mayor of San Antonio’s all over us wanting results.” Ruiz raised his hands in surrender. “I’m telling you what the man said.”

****

Wednesday, September 6th, 1:00 p.m.

“Another reason to not work in the boonies,” Ash announced after he bid goodbye to his new lady friend in the drugstore.

“What’s that?” Matt paid the tab for lunch. The coffee shop had become one of Ash’s favorite hangouts. There was more involved here than larger portions. Matt didn’t question the frequency of their visits, because the eye contact and body language between Ash and the waitress told enough.

“Small town equals low priority. The mayor of San Antonio gets what he wants before you small town boys.”

“Small town equals less crime. Until recently.” Matt responded to the eye roll he had no doubt Ash had given him. “I’m going to lean on Reinhardt. I need a firm ruling on cause of death for JC.”

“You haven’t told Catherine what we found at JC’s house. She should know.”

“I'm going now. If you need me, I’ll be at the funeral home.” Matt stopped after they crossed the street. No need in climbing the stairs to his office.

“I thought you might. Remind her she’s introducing me to her friend. Susan? Yeah. Susan.”

“You’re such a whore-dog.” Matt laughed as he crossed the parking lot to his cruiser.

The drive allowed him to gather his thoughts. He welcomed the quiet time. He and Ash had taken notes and compared them on the way back. The pictures Rey shot and Jake’s report would be ready to view later today. For Matt, it helped to rewind and move through the day again in his mind. Begin at the beginning, his old Chief would’ve said. Clichéd? Maybe. But it worked.

That he missed something ate at his insides. Dammit, he’d interviewed JC twice. Been in his living room for Christ’s sake. The man had come across as sincere and shocked when Matt insinuated JC might’ve killed Julia. The two had dated some time back, not recently. A “long time ago” was JC’s timeframe. Shit, he did mention giving her stuff. What was it he’d said? “I bought her stuff, and she liked it. I think maybe that was all she liked about me.” Was he covertly admitting he stalked her? When he discovered she only cared about the presents, did he get angry enough to kill her? If so, why’d he wait so long? What set him off?

Matt and his deputies had questioned the families and friends of the three victims, asked more than once if the women had received gifts or been stalked. Tomorrow he’d ask them again.

The pieces of this puzzle wouldn’t come together, but he wasn’t finished. Later he’d get back to all the unanswered questions.

****

Wednesday, September 6th, 3:00 p.m.

Catherine backed out of the supply closet to find Susan standing behind her. Catherine clapped her hand over her chest. “You startled me.”

“At least you didn’t go all Kung Fu on me.”

“True. I shouldn’t let my guard down.”

“The sheriff’s waiting for you in my office.” Susan caught Catherine’s hand and squeezed.

“Now you’re scaring me. What else has happened?”

“Don’t know. He said he had business with you.”

Catherine allowed herself to be led down the hall. She’d told Susan first thing this morning about JC’s body being found. After all, the funeral home would probably be his next stop after the autopsy. The irony of the name Final Touch struck Catherine. How silly of her not to get it before.

Regardless of why he was here, her heart fluttered at the sight of Matt standing in the doorway of the office. In his official stance with his stern sheriff’s face, he sent her pulse pounding and brought her blood to the boiling point. He removed his hat and swiped the back of his hand across the ridge where the sweatband rode. His lopsided grin stole its way to the surface and made him more handsome.

“Hey. What a nice surprise. Ten minutes earlier and you’d have missed me.”

“I’ll be out here if you need something,” Susan announced, then disappeared into the break room.

“Susan.” Matt’s voice was in the sheriff’s mode. “Nobody knows for sure if JC killed anyone. That investigation’s ongoing.”

“Folks are saying guilt got the best of JC. I’ve known him off and on all my life. Hard to believe he went wrong.” Susan paused. “I’m sorry. I’ve been nervous all day. I’ll give you two some privacy.”

“What’s wrong?” Catherine hated to think or ask that out loud, but lately when he stopped by the funeral home, it wasn’t for pleasure.

“Come sit down.”

Something deep inside Catherine stirred when Matt closed the door. Stomach acid churned as nerves reacted to the unknown. She perched on the edge of a chair. He sat in front of her, their knees touching.

“What’s wrong?”

“JC was your stalker.”

Matt delivered the announcement with the skill of a surgeon. Quick and clean. Catherine’s brain didn’t register his meaning for a second.

“No.” She wasn’t disputing his word so much as she didn’t want to hear them. JC was a friend. He was Marty’s friend. She couldn’t believe underneath that good-old-boy facade a heinous killer and demented stalker had been hiding.

“We found irrefutable evidence when we searched his house.” Matt knelt in front of her and held her hands in his. “There’s no doubt he was the stalker.”

Disappointment morphed to disgust. Anger ignited every neuron, and every synapse in her brain fired like an overheated circuit board. Her skin felt the buzz of an electrical storm. Her thoughts ran in different directions. How could she have been so blind? What had she missed? She’d gotten into JC’s pickup and ridden away with him.

“Breathe, honey. Breathe.”

His voice touched her somewhere deep in her soul. Life refocused. His hand cupped her cheek, and his touch calmed the raging seas.

She did as he instructed and let some of the pent up air out of her lungs. “Did you call me ‘honey’?”

“I don’t know, did I?”

“You did. It’s the first time you’ve called me by a nickname.”

“Not really.” One corner of his smile rose higher. “Occasionally, I call you Cat.”

“Yes, you do.” The tension in her shoulders relaxed. He was doing a great job of calming her. “Only in private.”

“True. Are you all right now?”

“Yeah. Shocked. Madder than hell. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“How’s Marty?”

“Brokenhearted. She can’t get her mind wrapped around the fact JC was a murderer or that he committed suicide. Telling her he was the stalker will crush her.”

“If he was the killer, she’ll survive. She’ll be less trusting for a while. Who won’t be?”

Matt’s joints snapped and cracked when he stood. They shared a laugh at the noise. She didn’t know about him, but it was the first bit of humor she’d found all day.

“If?” she asked.

“Just continue to exercise caution, and keep your guard up.”

“Why? And why aren’t you relieved this is over?” Catherine could’ve kicked herself for not noticing his apprehension sooner. As hard as he tried to appear calm, every tendon and muscle stood out rigid as an iron rail.

“I’m not convinced of anything other than the stalking is over. Too many unanswered questions surround JC’s suicide. I can’t officially call the murder cases closed. Not until after his autopsy.”

“The news is all over town.”

“Catherine, this is confidential and stays in this room. We think Jessie scratched her killer. He cut off her fingernails, but the ME managed to find enough skin under her nails to get us a definitive answer.”

“Oh. Shit. JC didn’t have any scratches.” She loosened the too-tight clip in her hair. “Did he?”

“No.” Strong hands gripped her arms. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Like I said, we
think
the killer was scratched.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“Of course. Pay attention to your surroundings. As I said, JC was the stalker. You deserved to know the truth right away.”

In that one sentence, Matt reaffirmed his code of honor. His words “You deserve the truth right away” burned straight through her heart. She had to tell him.

His cell buzzed and the moment was gone. When he hung up, he stood, returning his chair to its original spot. “We’re taking search dogs into the woods behind JC’s house. If he had a hideout where he kept his victims, I’ve got to find it.”

“You’ll be home later?”

“I don’t know. Until we find all the answers, things will be chaotic.” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and kissed the tip of her nose. “Gotta run.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Thursday, September 7th, 6:00 a.m.

Catherine pressed her breast deeper into his warm hand. She stretched and wiggled backward. Anything to get closer to the strength and power Matt’s body radiated. “You should’ve let me know when you got home.”

He pulled her hair away and kissed the soft spot behind her ear, a sensual spot sure to stir and tantalize her. “You needed a good night’s rest.”

“I did for a fact.” There’d been no nightmares, no lights on the driveway, and no jumping at every noise. Renewed and refreshed, she rolled over on her back and studied his face. “You needed sleep as badly if not worse than I did. Why are you awake?”

“I wanted to connect the dots before we had to get out of bed.” He straddled her. Keeping his weight on his arms, he kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. His tongue touched repeatedly in a pattern down to her neck.

She lifted her hips to help when he pulled her shirt off. “What dots?”

“The little tan ones...all over your body.” His tongue flicked out and touched a freckle on her chest, then touched another before pausing to torment and nibble her nipple with his teeth. He tossed the covers to the floor. “And you have lots of them. Each one more fascinating than the other.”

His raspy, sexy words coupled with the hungry flicks and licks sent desire coursing throughout her body. He pulled her breast into his mouth, leaving a needy, ridged peak when he continued his search.

“There’s one.” His gaze feasted, warming her skin. “Yes. There appears to be a string of them. Let’s see where they lead me.” A kiss here. A lick there. He shouldered her legs apart and worked his way down. Teasing her toward insanity. With one long stroke, he brushed across the cleft at the juncture of her thighs.

“I don’t think you’ll find a freckle there.” She choked out the words trying to retain a semblance of sanity, yet hoping against hope he wouldn’t be discouraged by not finding one.

“That’s what you think.” His slid his hands under her hips, raised her as if she weighed nothing, and plunged his glorious tongue inside her.

She cried out from sheer pleasure. She wanted time to stop and allow this sensation to go on forever. When he pressed his thumb into her flesh above his mouth, she completely lost control of her mind and body. Tremors shot through her, stars exploded behind her eyes, and she grasped his silky hair in her hands until her breathing slowed.

With gentle kisses, he worked his way back to her face. She wanted more. Catherine grasped his rigid erection and guided him to her. Eyes the color of midnight locked with hers as he joined their bodies and sank deep into her. Again and again. Her hips rose higher as the thrusts became frenzied. Harder. Faster. Deeper. She surprised herself as desire reignited. The fullness of him and the friction sent a new passion pouring through her body and soul. They moved as one, frantically searching for the end. Or was it the beginning? Together they found the threshold and exploded in a series of simultaneous, exquisite eruptions.