With Every Breath (30 page)

her arms twitched as though in nightmare, and one of her hands curled up slowly into a fist. She sat up suddenly, looking wildly around.

"Joe?" she whispered. "Joe!"

"Right here, babe."

Her eyes whipped around to find him. "There was blood?" she blurted. "You said there was blood!"

"Yeah." He fought the protective urge to head her off at the pass again. He fell silent and waited some more.

"I didn’t hurt him," she breathed.

"No. I didn’t think you did."

"I was running, running, and he was behind me."

No, Joe thought again, judging by all that blood, Rick Graycie hadn’t been chasing anybody. He had probably crawled off into the dunes to die, like the animal he was.

They’d find him tomorrow, when the sun came up. They had to.

"Somebody else hurt him." Maddie’s voice began getting frantic. "Somebody else chased me?"

"Yeah."

"Who, Joe? And why?"

Chapter 24

Joe didn’t answer. He gave her time. This was one conclusion she could only come to on her own.

"You think
I
know?" she demanded finally. "Is that it?"

"Yeah. Somewhere in there." He motioned at his own temple.

Maddie came up onto her knees. "Joe, I ran. I just told you, I thought he was behind me. I didn’t see anyone else. What—" And then she understood.

She scrambled the rest of the way to her feet, dragging the blanket with her. No. She paced, circled, somehow ending up by the big glass doors, looking out at the ocean, a shifting, darker shade of black than the sky. He came up behind her as she rested her forehead against the cool glass.

No, she thought again. She shook her head.

For a moment, he only held her arms, a strong hand just beneath each shoulder. Bracing her, she thought. Then he wrapped his arms around her. Soothing her. Because he was all things good.

She finally turned around and looked up into his eyes. "You agree with Leslie."

He hesitated, then shrugged one shoulder.

"That’s crazy," she hissed. "It was Rick. All those things were ... Rick. He was here. He killed the kitten. He cut the phone line. He brought me those ... those flowers."

"And somebody killed him," Joe said evenly.

She closed her eyes. "We don’t know that. He could be—"

"I’d put money on him being dead," he interrupted.

"How . . . exactly?"

"I’d guess someone shot him, from the spray ..." For once he caught himself, brought himself back from being too brutal. "It was a mess in there, babe, but it wasn’t consistent with a knife wound."

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "And you think ... you think it has something to do with ... before? With what happened when I left here all those years ago?"

This time he nodded. "You’re the only logical cord that ties all this together." That, and the fact that all the bodies are gone, he thought.

"But why?"

He sighed roughly and let go of her to rub his eyes. "I don’t know." He finally moved away from her.

"I think the time’s come for you to make yourself remember a few things, Maddie," he said with more care than was usual for him. "I think you need to make a few connections here that no one else can make. Because you were in that house then, and you were in that house last night, and somehow, for some goddamned reason, that’s important."

Maddie stiffened.

"If you’re not comfortable with Leslie, we could—"

"No," she interrupted.

"Maddie—"

"No!"
Suddenly she was angry. Blazingly angry.

Frantic. Frightened. "I don’t want to remember! Haven’t you figured that out? There’s a reason I don’t remember! When I first came back I thought my lack of memory was natural because I left here so young. But that’s not it, |oe. Something inside me is ... is protecting me. Something’s telling me I don’t want to know, and damn it. I’m going to listen to it!"

"So what are you going to do?" he snapped, his own temper twitching. "Hide from it again? Like Josh does?" And suddenly he realized how wonderful it was, how absolutely wonderful,
to fight without fear, without the possible repercussions clawing a hole in your gut. With this woman a fight was just ... a fight. She wasn’t going to run off and get staggeringly drunk. She wasn’t going to try to kill herself.

"Don’t say that," she breathed, pushing at his chest. "Why are you doing this to me?"

He grabbed her arms again and held her. "Because I want you free, damn it! Because I want to wrap up this goddamned case. Because I want it over and I want Josh to talk and I want Gina to let me go. Because ... I want ... hope."

The fight went out of her. Her eyes filled. "Oh, Joe." He pulled her into his arms. "Just think about it," he said hoarsely. "Just give it some thought. That’s all I’m asking here."

"I’m so tired."

"I know."

"It almost hurts, I’m so tired."

He kissed her hair. More wildflowers, lingering. "So we’ll sleep on it for now."

"Where? What about Josh?"

"Come on."

He led her up the stairs. When she tripped on the blanket, he turned back and wrenched it away. He

threw it over the banister and scooped her up, naked, in his arms.

"I guess something in me likes you better this way," he muttered.

She managed a watery grin. She looped her arms around his neck. "Josh," she said again.

"I’ve got it covered."

"Actually, no, you don’t."

His mouth quirked halfway to a grin.

"Your knee," she tried again, not sure what she was fighting. It was one thing to go wild, to erupt without premeditation into flame. It was another to deliberately and wantonly strip each other’s clothes away when her son was in the next room.

But she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.

They went up to the master bedroom on the third floor. When he dropped her on his bed, he was limping badly. He crossed to the closet, pulled out a shirt, and looked at it regretfully before tossing it to her.

Maddie shrugged into it. He jerked the comforter off one comer of the bed and forcibly pushed her to that side. "Get in. Sleep."

She felt shaky. "I don’t really want you to leave me," she admitted. "Not yet."

"I wasn’t planning on it."

"I need to look in on Josh."

He left the room without comment. A moment later he limped back. "He’s sucking his thumb. Other than that, he’s fine."

Maddie closed her eyes. "He hasn’t done that in

years."

Joe settled on the edge of the still-made side of the bed. "It’s been a while since I had anything to do with kids," he said, and tension crept back into his voice. "And maybe it’s not any of my business. But I guess I

could live with a thumb or two in the mouth a hell of a lot easier than I could deal with him not talking."

She nodded, then her eyes flew open again as he twisted around to plump a pillow against the headboard. "What are you doing?"

"Sleeping."

"You can’t—"

"Shut up, Maddie."

"But—"

"I’m dressed. You’re under the covers. I’m not. Can’t get much more innocent than that."

Suddenly she felt as though she was going to cry.

It was so good to let him make the decisions, to let him take care of things, to have someone strong enough that he could bear leaning on. She slid down, shuddering a little, and after a moment, as though it were a momentous decision, he nudged her again, moving her until her head rested on his shoulder.

"Think about it, Maddie. What I said downstairs."

"I will," she whispered. And it was the last thing she remembered, the last she thought she had.

It was after nine when she woke.

The peace she’d fallen asleep with lasted until she opened her eyes. The sky outside the window was dark, overcast, brooding. Rick was missing. Again. The sea hissed and sighed like a serpent, Joe wanted her to remember, wanted her to end it. Josh was sucking his thumb again, her clothing was strewn all over the place downstairs, and Joe was gone.

Maddie scrambled out of bed.

She didn’t take the time to go to the bathroom, to find toothpaste, to rake her fingers through her disheveled hair. She bolted down the stairs into the second floor hallway

and began flinging open doors. There were two other bedrooms and a bathroom, and Josh wasn’t in any of them.

She ran the rest of the way downstairs.

Joe was out on the deck, pacing, talking on the cordless phone again. Josh was sitting Indian-style on the weathered planks, munching from a box of Cheerios without impediment of bowl or milk. They looked right together. That still scared her.

Maddie stepped outside, and the cold wind slapped at her. "You need a coat, baby," she gasped. She started to hunker down to warm him, but Joe handed her the phone.

"It’s Kenny Halverson. Tell him what you need out of the house."

Josh’s coat was at the house, she realized. Everything was at the house. The panicky feeling started to come back. "Why can’t... oh." Joe had said there was blood. The place would probably be sealed off with that yellow tape, she realized, and her heart squeezed.

"Yeah," Joe said. "So just tell him. He’s got to go up there anyway. He’ll be glad to bring back anything you need."

Maddie took the phone and talked into it dully. She hung up, starting to feel dazed again.

"There’s one more thing," Joe said slowly, and she knew from his tone that she wasn’t going to like it.

"I need coffee." She turned inside again abruptly. "Josh, at least wrap a blanket around yourself."

He got up obediently and followed them inside. While Maddie stood, gripping the kitchen counter, waiting for the microwave to make hot water, he went back out.

"What?" she asked Joe carefully when Josh was gone.

He was leaning against the other side of the counter. When he didn’t answer right away, she looked up at him. Her breath caught as she remembered last night.

The microwave beeped and she jumped. She took her mug out with shaky hands. She looked at him again, at his black hair, his rugged cheekbones, those blue eyes. And she remembered the mat of black hair on his chest, the scars on the side of his knee, the hard strength of his thighs, his arms, his shoulders. She was lucky, so lucky, to have been wanted by him, to have had those strong hands on her body, to have felt him, tasted him, taken him inside herself.

And all he wanted in return was some peace.

She closed her eyes. She could give him that. Somewhere within herself, she held the key.

"I talked to Ellsworth," he began. "And the file from Fort Lauderdale came in."

She nodded without opening her eyes, waiting.

"We’ve got prints from the window. We’ve got prints on the flowerpot. We’ve got prints from Graycie’s car in Florida." He paused. "And not a goddamned one of them matches any of the others."

Her eyes flew open again. Her heart lurched. "That can’t be."

"Yeah, well, it is."

Her mind spun. "You’re saying ... you’re saying that Rick didn’t touch that window? That he didn’t open it? You’re saying that he didn’t even leave the flowers?" It’s impossible! "He wore gloves!" she cried.

He gave her that look again, waiting for her to figure it out. Everything drained out of her.

"The person who opened the window and left the flowers did
leave prints," she realized aloud, helplessly.

"People," he corrected. "Two of them. Two separate ones."

She was dizzy. "What the hell is going on here, Joe?"

To his credit, he didn’t point out that only she knew the answer to that. Somewhere. He moved toward her and took her hips in his hands.

She couldn’t think when he touched her.

She didn’t need to think. Her heart was howling loudly enough to be heard.

She loved him, she realized dazedly. When had that happened? she wondered. It didn’t matter. He needed this. And so she would find the courage to do it.

She wondered if Josh would watch her, and find courage of his own.

"Okay," she whispered. She thought his hands tensed. "For both of you."

He wasn’t prepared for the pride and the relief. The swelling of his heart was enough to hurt. "Where do you want to start?"

"Leslie Mendehlson, I think."

He was surprised. "You’ve decided that you trust her after all?"

"No." Her chin came up. "I do
think that what she did to me was wrong. It wasn't
professional. She didn’t do it for me. She did it for herself."

Joe scowled. "I don’t get it."

Maddie shook her head. "Neither do I," she admitted softly. "But for some reason, for her own reasons, I think she wants me to remember. So I guess the best place to start is to figure out why."

She began to turn away from him. She did it like a soldier, ready to walk into a battle she knew she couldn’t possibly win. Joe caught up with her and pulled her back into the kitchen, out of sight of the deck.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

I love you. Thank you. There were so many answers to that, he thought. There was going to be a hell of a lot he would have to deal with personally after he figured out where Rick Graycie had gone.

"When we’re finished with Leslie, can I get you naked again?" he asked instead.