Cries in the Night (26 page)

“So, what’s the problem?” his mom asked after setting a full glass of milk in front of him.

“No problem.”

She pinned him with one of her don’t-bullshit-your-mother looks, although she would never actually have phrased it like that. “You don’t just drop by unless something’s bothering you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a grin. “Ah, come on. Can’t a son come see his mother just for fun?”

“No,” she answered bluntly.

Rusty grew serious. Her ears had heard all of his childhood complaints about friends, teachers, grades, college and girls. Her advice had always been good, even if he had sometimes chosen not to take it … often regretting that decision later. Maybe she could give him some kind of insight into the female mind.

“Pull up a stool. This is going to take a while,” he told her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Julie had been distracted all day. Several times she realized she was staring at the painting of the meadow on the wall while her mind wandered over her conversation with Rusty.

It wasn’t unreasonable that he should want to know why she was doing what she was doing. She could see how it could be viewed as peculiar behavior. But her reasons were good. Would he understand or would he judge her?

They had spent so much time together and shared everything in the last few days. Actually, to be fair, he had shared; she had listened. Was it her turn?

She had been tempted, many times as they relaxed on the couch, talking about his family or laying in the dark when their inhibitions were gone and their personal walls down. It would have been easier to tell him when the lights were off, and she couldn’t see the disappointment and shock in his eyes.

Now he was insisting they have the conversation tonight, probably sitting across the dining table from each other with the lights in the small chandelier blazing. She wasn’t sure she could go through with it.

If her relationship with Rusty was for the long haul, she could see opening up to him. However, since she knew it was just a matter of time before his eyes wandered and he lived up to his reputation of loving ’em and leaving ’em, she would risk chasing him away even sooner. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted everyone to know they were dating … if that was what you could call it. If that had gotten out, she would have been the brunt of office chatter. Working in the police station where the majority of employees were male, she had quickly discovered that men gossiped as much as women, although they would never admit it. When Rusty did move on, she didn’t want everyone to be either pitying her or thinking she was a slut.

Her reputation was important, not just personally but professionally. Once Rusty was out of her life, that’s all she would have left.

Julie leaned back in her chair. She would never have believed that she would risk so much to be with a man … especially with no promises or chance of a future. For five, actually, almost six years, she had gotten along quite well without any type of relationships, either male or female. The trauma she had gone through that had triggered her move to Denver had left her without the slightest desire for sex or
even dating. She not only hadn’t missed it, but she hadn’t even given it much thought.

Until Rusty appeared on the scene.

Other than the delightful fact that he made her bones melt with his passionate lovemaking, he made her laugh. It had been a very long time since Julie had been happy. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had smiled so much or felt so relaxed.

Even with the threat of her crazy stalker in the background, she wasn’t afraid when Rusty was around. He was big and strong and used to running into burning buildings to save puppies. How could she not fall in love with such a man?

Fall in love? Oh God, no!
she groaned. That would be the worst possible scenario. Not only would her reputation be ruined, but her heart would be broken. As much as she had tried to protect herself, she had slipped up.

So, tonight he wanted to hear the whole truth. That would probably be the impetus for his departure. He wouldn’t want her after he knew. It would be his excuse to walk away. Not that he needed an excuse, but this would just speed up the process. By now he was probably already getting a little bored and antsy. She had no false hopes that she was fascinating or sexy enough to keep his interest for very long.

Julie had ignored the alarm bells clanging in her brain. She had pushed aside her morals and brushed off the potential for the personal pain of a broken heart for the temporary love of a man. Not just any man … her lover was a hero. But even heroes can hurt people.

She forced herself to focus on the two interviews she had scheduled. One was an adrenalin junkie who had probably applied in the hopes she would get to hang out with cops and firefighters. The other was also a woman, but she was happily married with spare time she wanted to use to help other people which made her an ideal candidate. There were a dozen more interviews set up for after Christmas, and hopefully, Julie would be able to bring at least three more people on staff. Number two went in the “to-be-considered” pile while number one went in the “not-even-if-there’s-no-one-else” pile, a.k.a. the shredder.

After a few follow-up calls to some of the victims from recent events, she confirmed that her staff would be working their scheduled shifts. When her desk top was clean, she gave up trying to put off the inevitable and headed home.

She hadn’t heard from Rusty all day, but that wasn’t unusual. He knew she was planning on being home early, so he would probably get in touch with her or drop by early in the evening. It would have to be an early night because he was on
shift at 7:30 on Christmas Eve morning and wouldn’t be off until 7:30 Christmas Day.

She dropped by their favorite Chinese restaurant for take-out. Maybe a dose of MSG would make her confession go down more smoothly. It was already dark when she pulled into her driveway and watched the garage door open. She gathered up the bag of take-out, her briefcase and purse and hurried to the house.

The door was unlocked and swung open at her touch.

A cold chill ran through her. Someone had been here.

But then she dismissed that possibility. The alarm hadn’t gone off. More than likely Rusty had hurried out and forgotten to set it and lock the door. That seemed highly unlikely, considering how aware he was of the situation. Possibly he had set it, but then came back and just popped out for a minute.

Her chuckle was shaky. Hopefully, he hadn’t gone out to pick up dinner, too. Of course, if he had, that would leave her with a lot of leftovers for Christmas, which would be good since so few restaurants were open that day. It was clear he wasn’t going to invite her to have dinner with his family. Not that she expected that or even wanted it.

Who was she trying to fool? She wanted it very much. But theirs wasn’t that type of relationship.

She hesitated a moment longer, considering and dismissing the option of calling the police before she went in. When they walked through her house and found nothing wrong, she would feel silly. Her thoughts kept going back to the fact that the alarm hadn’t gone off, so it had to be safe.

Julie flipped on the light switch, pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside. Her gaze immediately focused on the small body tied to her antique chandelier. The bags dropped from her arms and she screamed.

Cat, with a rope tied around his neck, hung limply from the light fixture over the table, clearly dead. She rushed forward, her first instinct to cut him down, but she knew that she shouldn’t. There could be all sorts of evidence she would contaminate. But oh, God, she wanted to save him. Her head dropped and she noticed that the person, whoever they were, had left her a message. Carved deeply in crude jagged letters on the wooden surface was the word
WHORE
.

 

Rusty heard Julie’s address broadcast over the scanner in his Explorer. His hands gripped tighter on the steering wheel. He was still about ten minutes away
and traffic was heavy. His mother had talked him into staying for dinner, so he’d gotten away from his parents’ house later than planned. Using all the skills he had learned in one of his firefighter academy classes, he made the ten minutes in seven, squealing to a stop behind a patrol car parked on the street in front of her neighbor’s house. Another patrol car was parked across the street and an unmarked car was directly in front of her house.

It took him only seconds to jump out and jog to the front door that stood open, even though the temperature was near freezing. Julie was perched stiffly on the edge of the couch as if she was poised to leap to her feet and run away. A cop was sitting next to her, jotting notes onto his pad. Her back was to him, so she wasn’t yet aware he had arrived. It gave him a moment to assess the situation.

Through the doorway to the kitchen, Rusty could see the shocking and gruesome site of the gray-and-black-striped cat still hanging from the chandelier while the other cop and the detective took photos and dusted for fingerprints.

What kind of monster had done this? Over the last few days Rusty and Julie had combed her files and compiled a list of possible suspects. Sam had run them through the National Instant Criminal Background Check, also known as NICS and other systems which had helped them to eliminate almost half of the suspects who were in prison or dead. A little amateur detective work had discovered that fifteen or twenty percent of those left seemed to have gotten their acts together and had, at least outwardly, straightened out their lives. The rest were still in the area, had moved out of state or simply disappeared which kept them all as possible suspects.

That left a list that was still long and anything but definitive. Julie had made a second list that was little more than gut instinct about which of the aggressors would have the motive and ability to track her down.

Whether or not a person actually meant to harm her or simply frighten her and make her life miserable hadn’t been clear until now. The fact that he had murdered her pet changed everything. He was sending her a message. She was next.

When the cop stood and went to join the others in the kitchen, Rusty stepped forward and joined Julie on the couch. She was surprisingly dry-eyed, but obviously in shock.

“I wanted to cut him down,” she told him. “But I knew the cops needed to process it first.”

“I’ll take care of him for you,” Rusty offered.

“He was just an innocent cat. He never did anything wrong.”

“Of course he didn’t.”

A lone teardrop rolled down her cheek. “He always hid when strangers were in the house.”

“Then how …?” Rusty jumped to the conclusion that maybe it was someone Julie knew, but she offered an alternative.

“They had a can of cat food. Cat never could resist the sound of that lid popping open.” A tear trickled down her other cheek. “Silly Cat. It was his special treat. I couldn’t afford it very often.” That memory opened the flood gates, and she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Nothing made Rusty feel more helpless than tears. A child crying over his lost dog, an old man grieving for his deceased wife or a woman sobbing over the grizzly death of a beloved pet, all touched him to the core. He put his arms around Julie and pulled her against his chest.

The police officers walked through the living room, and Rusty nodded as they left. They didn’t have any answers and had collected all the data possible. The holidays would delay the processing of any evidence … 
if
they had found any. Rusty suspected they hadn’t. Dinner tables were always covered in fingerprints, so even if the man hadn’t worn gloves, it was unlikely the cops had been able to pull any clear prints off. The rope would be even more difficult, but Rusty could see that they had taken it with them. Poor Cat lay on a newspaper on top of the table. Apparently, they hadn’t believed they could gather any evidence off of his body.

Several moments later, Julie’s tears were spent and she pulled away. “I’ll take you up on your offer. There’s a place under that old cottonwood in the backyard. He loved climbing that tree and trying to catch the squirrels.” She sniffled. “He never caught one, but he never gave up.”

Rusty knew it would be hard on her, but she was a trouper. She wrapped his limp body in a soft wool shawl and cradled him in her arms while Rusty struggled to dig a hole in the frozen ground. She gently laid Cat in the fresh hole, then said a silent prayer before she tossed one of his favorite catnip mice in the hole and watched as Rusty carefully refilled the hole. The wind had picked up, lowering the temperature to close to zero. Julie pulled her coat tighter and stared down at the small mound of dirt for several minutes, silently grieving for the sad little stray who had welcomed the warmth of her house and the generosity of her heart for the last few years of his life.