Unforgivable (25 page)

“Why?” Bertrice asked. “I mean, we’re the only vet in town.”

“Haven’t you heard that he’s probably the guy who killed your friends?”

Bertrice was watching Silas’s Navigator turn out of the parking lot and raising a cloud of dust. “Someone at school said he was a suspect, but I don’t believe that.”

Ben met Katie’s gaze as though accusing her of poisoning Bertrice’s mind. “Why? Is he too good-looking to be a murderer?”

“Well, he is a hottie, but that’s not it. I think they’re trying to pin it on him because he’s, like, new or something. No one knows him. But he wouldn’t still be around if he’d done it.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Ben said in a hard voice. “If I were an attractive young woman, I sure wouldn’t trust him.” This he said to Katie. “By the way, I found out who owns the retriever.”

Katie’s heart went from tensed to plummeting. “You did?”

“I figured you’d want to get her back to her owners right away. I did some calling out to the farms where Gary hit the dog. I know most of them. The Cartwrights will be in this morning to pick her up. I’m sure they appreciate how well you’ve taken care of her.”

But when they came to take Goldie away, it wasn’t Katie they thanked profusely. It was Ben.

“Katie, what’s bothering you?” Ben asked her that night when he returned from the latest round of searching.

She didn’t want to share what bothered her. She’d tried to discuss the raccoon poisoning, but Ben’s official position was it was only a rodent and to drop the subject. He’d taken all the credit for Goldie’s recovery and happy demeanor. Not outright, of course. He’d never once said he’d treated Goldie, but he hadn’t dispelled their presumptions, either.

Her gaze zeroed in on the box of poison that was once again out on the counter. “Ben, why is the box out again? You’re not going to poison any more raccoons. I won’t allow it.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I saw evidence of mice out by your gazebo. Do you want to let them just eat the wood away? And scamper across your feet?”

“Please just put it away.” She turned toward the window where two moths were banging against the glass in a desperate effort to get in. The spider waited in the shadows, hoping one of them would catch the sticky web.

Ben came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She could feel his warm, moist breath as he spoke against her neck. His voice had tones of incredulity when he said, “You called me when I was in Atlanta. That meant a lot to me, that you called me. I’m always the one who calls.”

Even though he was saying something nice, his words grated like a fork across her skin. “You know I always want to be there for you, don’t you, Katie?”

This time he waited for her answer. She caught him watching their reflection in the window. She eased the edge from her expression. “You are…always there for me, Ben.”

“Am I still your hero, Katie?”

She swallowed hard. For years she’d pushed out the words he wanted to hear. This time she said, “Heroes don’t poison raccoons.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders. She saw his gaze harden in the reflection. “I did it for you. You didn’t like hearing them out there at night, and you were always mad when you picked up the mess they left behind. I was trying to make things all right for you. That was the only way I knew how; we’d tried everything else. That’s all I ever think about, Katie, is making things better for you.”

It felt as though someone were tightening a clamp inside her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut. How could he make her feel responsible for the raccoon’s death? He did it a lot, she realized, made her feel low and undeserving. Then he’d say something to smooth it over and the hurt would go away.

But the hurt never really went away. She’d just shoved it under the carpet of his kindness. Like dirt, it only accumulated unseen. “You don’t have to make things better.”

“Yes, I do. I never feel like I’m doing enough to make you happy. It’s like I’m not quite good enough to be your husband. I try to make everything good for you, but it’s never enough, is it?” He turned her around to face him.

“Yes, it is,” she forced out. “It’s me. Maybe I’m too selfish. Maybe I don’t deserve you.”

His expression eased, and he bracketed her face with his hands. “Of course you deserve me. We belong together, Katie. Always and forever. I can’t help it if I made you my world. Can you forgive me?”

For what?
she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Of course.”

He walked over to the counter and handed her a pink bag. “I brought you something from Atlanta.” 

Not chocolates, thank goodness. She pulled out a white dress with a black ribbon circling the empire waistline. It looked like something a little girl would wear. She’d look terrible in it.

She tucked it back into the bag. “Thanks, Ben. That was sweet.” 

“Katie, I want to have a baby with you.”

She drooped against the stove in shock. “Wha…what?”

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Your moods, your unhappiness. You’ve talked about having a baby, and I kind of dismissed it. I didn’t want to go through the embarrassment of tests and procedures. But I see how selfish I was. I just want you to be happy, Katie. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t want to lose you.”

For years she’d longed to have someone who belonged to her wholly, who would love her unconditionally. Now that he was offering her that baby, she was all tangled up inside. “I’m not sure I’m ready now.”

He pulled her against him and said in a thick voice, “Don’t tell me it’s too late. That I’ve lost you.”

“I’m just not sure I’m good mother material.” What kind of role model did she have? A mother who professed her love and then killed herself? Mrs. Emerson, who treated her children like employees? Maybe she was too cold to be a good mother. And the thing that scared her most: what if her own child didn’t love her?

“You’d make a great mother,” he said, pulling back to look at her. “What do you say?”

“I don’t feel right talking about a baby with those girls gone.” Still, the longing pulled inside her. “Maybe later.”

He tipped her chin up. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said, though she didn’t sound the least bit convincing.

Apparently Ben bought it, because he kissed her. “Why don’t you treat yourself to a bubble bath, ease some of your tension? I’ll fix dinner.”

“You will?”

“Between the girls’ disappearance, Silas creeping around, and the fact that you’ve been off-balance since your birthday, I think you’re over the edge. You’re taking everything 

so seriously these days. So personally. Relax.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll take care of everything tonight, even cleaning up.”

Was
she over the edge? Could she be blowing everything out of proportion? It was likely, what with her mother’s suicide haunting her and Silas taunting her. Fear and guilt could mess with a woman’s mind and make things seems worse than they were.

She kissed Ben back. “Thanks, honey.”

When she came into the kitchen forty minutes later, Ben had set the table with candles and wine. Something was sizzling in the pan on the stove. She was wrapped in her robe, her hair still damp.

“This is lovely,” she said, taking in the marigold he’d snagged from her garden and placed in a vase. 

That’s when she saw the poison still sitting on the counter. And in the pan were two large hamburger patties spitting grease into the light above. Her stomach clenched. It was crazy to think he’d put something in the hamburgers. She knew it made no sense. She wasn’t a pesky rodent. Still, that paranoia shuddered through her and brought fresh images of that raccoon in pain and the hatred she’d felt for Ben.

He set a hamburger on each plate,
sans
bun, next to a pile of rice. Then he placed the plates on the table and took his seat. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t feel well all of a sudden. Maybe I sat in the hot water too long.”

“You’re probably just hungry. Sit down.”

She glanced at the yellow box with the dead rat on it. Had it been moved since she’d gone into the bathroom? She could already feel the pain searing through her insides, as though she’d ingested the poison. He looked impatiently at her, and she sat down.

“Good. Now eat.”

The grease oozed from beneath the burger and pooled blood red on her plate. The rice started to absorb it. He was already eating, but he paused when he saw her studying her burger. “Is it too rare? I know you like it more cooked.”

“I’ve gotten used to eating it rare.” Because he always forgot to cook hers the way she liked, and she never wanted to bother him to cook it more. But eating an undercooked steak or burger was different than eating something she suspected was poisoned.

She glanced at his burger. “How does yours look? Maybe it’s more cooked.”

“It’s even rarer,” he said without looking.

He was waiting for her to take a bite. “Go ahead and try it. If it’s too raw, I’ll throw it back in the pan for a few minutes.”

“It’s fine.” She bought time by salting and peppering the burger. She cut into it with her fork. More blood oozed out and infected her pure white rice. This was Silas’s doing, making her doubt her husband. Ben wasn’t a serial killer, and he wasn’t a wife killer, either. She raised the fork to her mouth.

He stuck another chunk of burger into his mouth and talked around it. “I was thinking maybe I should cancel my farm calls this weekend. You know, with all the stuff going on, the girls being missing…and Silas hanging around.”

She set the fork down. “Silas isn’t hanging around here.”

“I know that.” He smiled. “I mean, hanging around town.”

“But Tate said that this guy, whoever he is, only hits a town once. He won’t take another woman from Flatlands. Serial killers have methods. They don’t change them.”

“How do you know about serial killers?”

She thought of the books tucked beneath her side of the bed. “Just hearing everyone talk about them.”

“Silas writes about them. Tate bought five books to read up on. He said Silas is a good writer—too good. He knows the minds of killers well. Like his own, I’d bet.” He glanced down at her plate. “Katie, you haven’t touched your burger. I made dinner so you could relax. And this is how you say thanks, by not eating it?”

Her stomach lurched then. He had a way of making her feel so…obligated. Not with harsh words, but with sweetness. She scooped up a forkful of rice and stuck it in her mouth. In the end, it wasn’t her choice to make whether to eat the hamburger or not. She rushed to the bathroom and threw up.

There were nights when Katie slipped into a deep sleep instantaneously. Tonight should have been one of them. Ben had seen her to bed, laid a cool washcloth over her forehead, and turned off the lights. But hours later, she lay there looking up at the fan that resembled a huge spider ready to descend on her. 

She didn’t think Ben had really tried to poison her. The panic, well, that was a reaction to everything that had been going on lately. For the third time in her life, her world was folding in upon itself. The first time had been when Gary threw the kitten. Silas had been there for her then. When her mother died, Ben had been there.

Who was there for her now? No one. Even with Ben snoring softly beside her, she was beginning to think he was no longer on her side. Not emotionally anyway. She couldn’t trust Gary, couldn’t trust Silas, and apparently, she couldn’t even trust Ben, though that wasn’t his fault. Bertrice was too young to understand any of this, and she had her own problems to deal with, namely her friends’ disappearance. So Katie was alone, really alone.

She turned over on her side. Silas still had a lot of questions to answer. Mostly, why he was so sure she was in danger. The killer had struck here in Flatlands and would move on.

It
’
s someone you know.

She automatically touched her collarbone, but the cross was sitting in her jewelry box. She wanted to wear it in the worst way. To remember her mother, not Silas. It seemed that Silas haunted her every thought lately. Those smoky blue eyes floated through her mind constantly. The way he looked at her… wanted her. That guilty admission had turned her inside out. She wanted him, too. She’d never felt this way, even with her husband. Even when they had had a sex life, Ben never stirred this hunger inside her.

She quietly pushed back the covers and sat up.

“What’s wrong?” Ben said in a sleepy voice.

“Can’t sleep. I’m going to fix some warm milk.”

“Want a pill?”

“No, I’m fine. Just restless.”

She padded into the kitchen and turned on the stove, then poured milk into a pan. She sat down at the table to wait a few minutes. That’s when she noticed the whisper of light beneath the office door.

This time she didn’t grab the gun. If it were Gary, she’d scream. If it was Silas…

Her heart picked up another notch at that thought. She turned off the heat and opened the door. Only the desk lamp was on, casting an eerie glow across the desk and floor. The room was empty, but she again
felt
a presence. Whoever was in here had probably heard her walk into the kitchen. She walked in and looked where Silas had hidden before. Nothing. The bi-fold doors were slightly ajar. She pushed them open. Even though she’d known someone was in there, the sight of Silas in the shadows still startled her. She swallowed back the gasp.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” he whispered as though she were a recalcitrant child.

“And
you
’
re
not supposed to be breaking into my home.”

“Touché.” He was dressed in black from his jeans to his T-shirt. Stripes of light crossed his face, making him look like a wolf waiting for his prey. Are you doing all right? I’ve been getting some pretty strong feelings lately.”

“I’ve been better.” She didn’t want to talk about the raccoon. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to verify some information.”

She closed the office door as he set an old metal box on the desk. “Ever seen this before?”

She had to walk close to hear his soft words. “No. Where was it?”