The Trophy Hunter (15 page)

“He must smell Dad’s animals,” said Keith,
now back in the room and stroking Tigger’s back vigorously.

“Keith!” admonished Lori, a frown creasing
her pretty face.

Keith giggled. Thoroughly confused, Diana
watched amusement steal across Rogart’s face, too.

“Dad’s animals are dead,” explained
Keith.

“You are so gross, Keith.” Lori rolled her
eyes. “Just before dinner.”

Rogart put an arm around his son’s shoulders.
“I don’t know about that, son. They look pretty lifelike to me.” He
winked at Diana.

Both kids laughed aloud. “Now I get it,” said
Diana. “The taxidermied animals.”

Now all three Rogarts cracked up.
“
Taxidermied
animals,” echoed Keith. “That’s not what you
call them. They’re
mounts
.”

More giggles all around. This time Diana
joined them, then excused herself to get the promised soft
drinks.

When she returned and passed out pops to the
Rogarts, Darren asked, “Need any help in the kitchen?”

“I never refuse help.”

He turned to his daughter. “Lori, hon, go
help Diana.”

He shouldn’t push us together, she thought.
It’s too soon. Doesn’t he know that? Can’t he tell from her body
language that she doesn’t want to be here?

In the kitchen, Diana handed napkins and
silver to Lori. “Since it’s still so warm, I thought we’d eat on
the patio. Sound okay?”

Lori shrugged, her expression gone sullen.
Definitely not childlike. “Whatever,” she said as she pushed open
the kitchen door to the patio and left with the table settings.

Through the open door, Diana heard Lori’s
voice again. “Trisha would’ve liked to come with us.” The girl’s
words came through distinctly. Deliberately so?

Diana turned from the oven with a dish of
steaming lasagna. Outside on the patio she saw that Rogart had
joined his daughter through the door from the living room. Diana
couldn’t hear his reply, but Lori’s came through clear enough. “I
don’t understand why not.”

As she placed the lasagna on a cat-shaped
trivet, Diana strained to hear the conversation. When she removed a
fresh, green salad from the fridge, she heard Rogart say, “Hon,
now’s just not the right time.”

Who is Trisha?

“How’d you like Dad to stuff you?” Keith’s
voice behind her whirled Diana as the boy carried Tigger into the
room.

“Keith, that’s not a nice thing to say.”
Diana couldn’t hold back the words.

“Why not? Lots of people have their pets
stuffed when they die,” said Keith.

She didn’t know why the child’s words
bothered her so. “But Tigger is a young cat. Besides, I wouldn’t
want a stuffed dead pet around.” Here she managed a smile, so it
wouldn’t seem so much like a lecture. “I’d rather remember my pets
alive.”

Keith seemed unfazed. “When Dad gets through
with ‘em, you couldn’t tell the difference.”

Glad to change the subject, Diana enlisted
Keith’s help in bringing the food to the patio table. The lasagna
went over big. Even Lori ate a generous portion.

Throughout the meal, the question nibbled at
Diana’s brain:
Who is Trisha?

When they’d finished seconds, and Rogart had
consumed thirds, Keith started up from the table. Rogart stopped
him with a look. “Oops, may I be excused?”

Another stern look from his dad prodded the
child to continue, “Thank you for dinner, Diana. May I
please
be executed?”

This kid has a morbid sense of humor.

“I mean … excused.” Keith giggled at the
effect his pun was having. Both his dad and sister were suppressing
smiles.

Diana hid her mouth with her hand to conceal
the fact that she wasn’t seeing any humor here. Maybe it was the
thought of her Tigger stuffed and on the mantle.

“Can I go down to that lake where we drove
in?” asked Keith. “I wanna check it out.”

“Sure,” said Diana, “if your dad says it’s
okay.”

“Go ahead, son.”

“Watch out for skunks,” added Diana.

As a charged-up Keith headed out the patio
gate, Rogart nudged his daughter. “Why don’t you go with him?”

“Dad,” Lori whined, “do I have to?”

“Somebody’s got to keep him out of trouble.
Unless you want to stay here and help Diana clean up … and I’ll go
with Keith.”

Lori was on her feet. “No. It’s okay. I’ll
go.”

Diana pretended to study the floral design on
her empty plate. She looked up seconds later to see Rogart standing
at the patio wall, watching his children disappear among the trees
in the fading light.

“They’re beautiful kids,” she said. “I can
see how you must’ve missed them.” Then she thought how stupid her
words were. The children’s physical attractiveness would have no
bearing on the degree of their father’s love. But Rogart didn’t
seem to find anything wrong with her comment as he beamed with
fatherly pride.

In the kitchen, as Rogart helped her clean
up, Diana juggled the question again.

But he leaned close, knocking that question
right out of her head. “What’s that perfume you’re wearing?” With a
flick of his wrist, he snared her across the shoulders with a dish
towel and pulled her toward him.

Somehow it didn’t feel right. “Oregano,” she
tossed back, ducking under the dish towel and escaping to the
fridge with the butter dish.

“Who’s Trisha?” she asked as she turned back
in his direction.

He looked at her for a moment, as if he
hadn’t understood the question. Then he rolled his eyes, a faint
smile on his lips. “You heard Lori and me.”

“I heard Lori.”

“I’m not sure how to go about this.”

“Go about what?”

“Trisha is Patty Strickland. She’s come to me
for help.”

“The girl Jess’s been looking for? Have you
told her the girl’s not missing? Have you notified the authorities
that she’s turned up?” She knew that she was sounding like a
lawyer, not a … whatever it was she was to him. She didn’t even
know what it was she
wanted
to be to him.

He sat down at the kitchen island and put his
head in his hands for a moment. When he looked up, he said, “I know
I have to do both of those things. Trisha doesn’t know it, but I
have called her mother. She doesn’t want her daughter back. Can you
imagine?”

“No I can’t.” Diana bristled. “Does she think
her daughter’s damaged goods or some such crap?”

“That might be it,” he replied. “Trisha’s
pregnant. She won’t talk about who the father is. She won’t talk
about any of it. End of story.”

“But it’s not. Charges should be filed. That
mother should be prosecuted for neglect.” Raw emotion caused her to
rattle on.

Rogart got up and put a hand on her arm.
“She’s seventeen, pretty much considered an adult. I haven’t
decided what to do. If I push her about accusing Joe, there’s no
telling what she’ll do. She might even run off again. She looks
like she’s due to deliver pretty soon, but she doesn’t even seem to
know when. I’m sure she hasn’t seen a doctor. Don’t look at me like
that. I’m working on that, too.”

She suddenly felt ashamed of judging Rogart
as she considered the new responsibilities he was taking on. He
already had a missing wife and two kids to raise. But, as quickly,
the nibbling suspicion was back. How did he find Trisha? How did
Trisha know where to find him?

Before she could ask, he put his arms around
her. “What color are your eyes?”

What color are my eyes?
The bizarre
segue did in her budding desire.

“Sometimes they look light brown,” he
continued. “Then they look gold. Like right now. Gold with green
flecks.”

She pulled back, but found his arms
immovable. “How did we get from a girl in trouble to … my eyes?”
Panic crept up on her like Tig on a bird.

“I just wanted … one normal evening … in the
company of a beautiful woman.” He sighed. “I wanted to think I
might have a chance with you, in spite of my problems.”

Oh, yes, he sure knows all the
buttons.
But the other voice, the one that made her feel like
warm jelly, squelched caution. He was just too damn close.

His kiss was gentle at first, then more
invasive. As before, in the Buckhorn parking lot, something
compelled her to blink. This time it was the sound of the patio
door sliding open. Looking over Rogart’s shoulder, Diana saw Lori
standing in the doorway. The look on the girl’s face reminded Diana
of something. Oh, yes. It was how her own expression
felt
the day she’d caught Greg and Cathy.

Diana tensed and pulled back slightly.
Don’t jump as if you’ve been caught doing something …
wrong.

Rogart turned in the direction of her glance.
“Lori, hon, where’s Keith?”

“At the lake. I came back to use the
bathroom.”

“It’s upstairs on the right.” Rogart smiled
at his daughter, appearing impervious to the poison darts flying
from her eyes.

Lori headed for the stairs, her eyes averting
Diana’s.

How did he know?

He turned toward Diana. “I had to find it
earlier, while you were getting dinner on. I didn’t want to bother
you.” He paused at her deer-in-the-headlights expression. “I hope
you don’t mind.”

Diana shook her head. “Of course not. It’s
just that the guest bath is on the left … and there’s a powder room
by the front door.”

“Oh,” said Rogart. “I thought that was a
closet.”

They both turned toward the sound of a door
slamming upstairs.

Rogart sighed. “She’s not used to seeing me
close to someone. Like that.”

You think?

He put an arm around her again and tried to
draw her to him. But now the attraction had been extinguished for
Diana by a pair of angry thirteen-year-old eyes. She pulled away
before he got a good grip.

“We shouldn’t upset her,” whispered Diana, as
if Lori could hear.

“She’ll get used to it,” he replied.

Get used to what?
“You daughter has
some major problems you need to address before you even think
of─”

“Dad, I just saw a giant raccoon.” Keith’s
voice cut short Daina’s words as he clattered through the patio
door, tracking mud across the pristine kitchen floor.

“Keith,” admonished Rogart, “you forgot to
wipe your feet, Son.”

“It’s okay,” said Diana. “Not a problem.”

“But he was awesome, Dad. Do we have a gun
with us?”

Over my dead body.
“There’s no hunting
allowed here, Keith,” said Diana.

Lori came back into the room looking as if
she’d been crying. She quickly took Rogart’s hand, positioning
herself between him and Diana. “Dad, can we go now?”

Rogart hugged his daughter, then gave Diana a
smile and a shrug. “Guess I’d better get these two home. Everything
was great, Diana.”

“I’m so glad you came.” Diana felt herself
blushing.
Great word choice, Diana.

“Keith, you need to use the bathroom before
we start out?” asked Rogart.

Keith shook his head. “Uh-uh. I went at the
lake.”

Oh, jeez.
Diana pasted on a smile.

“By the lake, not
in
the lake,” Keith
explained.

“Well, I do need to make a pit stop,” said
Rogart. Detaching himself from Lori’s grasp, he headed toward the
stairs.

Keith, looking wired from visions of a
raccoon hunt, bolted out the patio door. “Bye, Diana.”

Lori stood at the bottom of the stairs,
staring up in the direction her dad had taken. Diana felt a
let-down, as any chance she might have of reaching the girl slipped
away. She was now the enemy in Lori’s eyes.

“Lori, maybe next time you’d like to bring
Trisha along,” she ventured.

Lori’s eyes widened. “Uh, I don’t think
so.”

“Thanks again for everything,” said
Rogart.

Diana hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.
“Oh, wait. I’ll get the trust instrument for you.”

“Next time.”

Next time?

Rogart didn’t kiss her goodbye. How could he
with his daughter clinging to him again?

Do I really want a next time?

Then Rogart and Lori went outside to retrieve
Keith. From the living room window, Diana watched them pile into
the truck. As he held the door for the kids, Diana saw Rogart look
in her direction, then kiss his daughter on the top of her head.
She wondered what it was about this simple, tender act that made
her skin crawl.

Curled up in a wing chair, Diana rehashed the
evening. She’d half expected Rogart to bring up some new legal
problem, but he hadn’t asked her for a thing. Could it be he was
really interested? Wasn’t it to be expected, after all, for a
molested teen to cling to the only parent she had left? But, wasn’t
it insensitive of Rogart to introduce his children to a new woman
when his wife might still be alive?

But she’s been missing for months. How long
is he supposed to wait?

Wait? Ha! Don’t forget Jess … and how many
others?

Her feelings were all over the place as she
climbed the stairs and entered the master bathroom. She stopped at
the sight of an open tube of her lipstick smashed on the
countertop. As she looked up, the word slapped her in the face.
There on the bathroom mirror over one of the dual sinks someone had
written in lipstick:
BITCH.

Chapter 27

Diana had been in bed about an hour when the
phone rang. “Hello.”

“Lori didn’t mean it.” Rogart’s voice was
low, apologetic. “I waited till they were in bed to call you. I can
imagine what you must think.”

“I think you used poor judgment to kiss me
when there was even a chance your daughter might witness it.” She
marveled at her ability to be rational when he wasn’t in the room
with her.

“I know,” he said. “She hasn’t given up on
her mom coming back.”

“But you have?”

She could hear him sigh. “I looked for her.
How do you think Joe ended up with my kids? I was out combing those
woods for their mother. When Lori turned up, I didn’t know it till
the next day. They took her and Keith to their grandparents’.”