Dark Water (12 page)

“Sheriff, there's no one out there, but we found a fresh set of tracks just inside the tree line.” He handed Gallagher a small plastic bag with a single spent shell and another with the slug they'd dug out of the house. “And this. We found this.”

Gallagher lifted the plastic bags toward the light.

“Looks like a .30-30 caliber bullet, probably from a hunting rifle.”

Sarah watched Tony and the sheriff, trying to gauge the expressions on their faces against what they weren't saying.

“Are you trying to say it was a hunting accident? Who would be hunting at night…and so close to a house? I wouldn't think any game would come this close to where people live.”

“That's just the problem,” Ron said. “The animals have always been here. It's people who've intruded on their space. They come to the lake to drink at night. I suppose it's possible that someone could have been taking a shot at a deer or even a moose, although it's out of season. However, the footprints we found don't lend themselves too much to that theory. Hunters don't aim toward houses, and whoever shot this shell was aiming in this direction.”

“It wasn't an accident,” Tony said. “And if Sarah hadn't moved when she did, the shot would have hit her and not the house.”

Ron nodded. “I tend to agree with you.”

Then he looked at Sarah. Her face was pale and drawn, and there was a faint abrasion on her chin from where she'd fallen when Tony pulled her down. She'd been shaking when they'd pulled her off the deck and into the house, and she had yet to stop. Fighting a faceless, nameless enemy was a bit out of his league.

“What are you going to do?” Sarah asked.

Ron shoved his hat to the back of his head, absently scratching at a spot over one ear as he thought.

“There's not a lot I can do,” he said. “Of course we'll come back in the morning when it's light, see if we can't follow the tracks. But if it's the same fellow as last time, I doubt we'll have much luck. He took pains not to be tracked.”

“What am I going to do?” Sarah asked.

Ron hated the fear in her voice. He wanted nothing more than to be her hero, but right now, he was looking very inept.

“Don't go anywhere alone, and I wouldn't advise going outside until we know something definite.” Then he added, “They're going to release your father's remains in a couple of days.”

Sarah frowned. “Are you suggesting that I tuck tail and run after I bury him?”

“I'm not suggesting anything, Miss Whitman. I'm just telling you that I can't protect you very well until I know who it is I'm looking for.”

Sarah wouldn't look at Tony. She didn't want to see disapproval on his face. But the sooner everyone understood where she was coming from, the better off they would all be.

“You need to know that I will not be driven away from this town again,” she said. “I will leave here when I'm ready, and not a day sooner. My family's name was dragged through the dirt in every way possible, and I will not quit until it is cleared. Whoever killed my father is also indirectly responsible for my mother's death. They didn't just steal the bank's money, they stole my family and came close to destroying my life. Spread the word. The quicker everyone understands this, the less I will have to explain.”

Tony's heart sank. He admired her courage, but he was scared to death for her safety. As much as he wanted to be with her, he wished she would take herself back to New Orleans and out of the line of fire. However, there was something he could do until that day arrived.

“Gallagher, just so you know, there will be armed security on my property beginning tomorrow. Also, there will be two bodyguards inside my house at all times until this person is caught.”

Sarah's mouth dropped. “Tony, you can't—”

He turned to her, his gaze fixed and cold. “I can and I will, Sarah Jane, and you have nothing to say about it.”

Gallagher nodded in approval, while Sarah sank back against the chair in defeat. This was such a horrible mess. Everything was out of control. Then she remembered the calendar that had been in her father's things.

“Sheriff, there's something I intended to give you tomorrow, but since you're here, you may as well take it now.”

“Are you talking about the calendar?” Tony asked.

She nodded.

“Sit still. I'll get it.”

Sarah started to argue, then relented. Truth was, her legs were too weak to get up the stairs.

“What is it?” Ron asked, as Tony left the room.

“Earlier today, Harmon Weatherly gave me a box of things that had been cleared from my father's desk. He said he'd tried to give it to my mother back then, but she wouldn't let him in the house. He's kept it all this time. When we were going through the stuff, I found the calendar. There are some notations that don't make sense. I thought you should have it.”

Ron's attention was piqued. “Good. Anything that would send us in a new direction would be great.”

Tony came back just then and handed her the calendar. Quickly she leafed through the pages until she found one of the notations she didn't understand.

“This may not mean a thing,” she said, as she showed him the notes. “At first I thought it was a reminder of the meetings Daddy used to attend at the Moose Lodge, but then I remembered those meetings were always at night. These are every other Wednesday, just after lunch.”

“I see what you mean,” Gallagher said. “I'll check it out. It might not mean a thing, but who knows? It could also be the break we needed.”

“I'd like to have that returned when you're through with it,” she said.

“I'll have the pages copied and send a deputy back with the original in the morning. How's that?”

Sarah nodded, for the first time managing a smile. “Thank you,” she said, then looked at all the men, including Tony and the deputies. “I thank all of you, more than I can say. If there's nothing else you need of me, I'm going to my room. I've had all the fun I can stand for one night.”

At that point, everyone stood.

“I'll see you men out,” Tony said, eyeing Sarah's demeanor as she made her way from the room.

Ron Gallagher watched Sarah go, wishing he had something more concrete to tell her than the fact that he would try.

“I'll have one of my men swing by here every hour or so until morning,” he said.

Tony shook Ron Gallagher's hand. “Thanks, Ron. I appreciate all you've done, and I know how frustrating this must be for your department.”

Ron nodded. “It's hard to pick up the trail of a twenty-year-old crime, that's for sure.”

The deputies were in their respective cars and driving away as Tony stopped Ron at the door.

“Just so you know, I'm putting a private investigator on this, and not because I think you can't do the job. I just wanted you to know, instead of learning about it after the fact.”

“I'll take every bit of help I can get,” the sheriff said. “Whatever he finds out, let me know, and I'll be sure to do the same. Just between you and me, the Feds think we're about as smart as rabbit pellets, which means they're not sharing everything they know. Frankly, I'm not counting on them for anything.”

“Count on me,” Tony said.

Ron grimaced.

“Damn shame what's happening to her. She's a real pretty woman who's had a hell of a lot of hard knocks. I'd hate to think I let anything else happen to her here.”

“Whatever happens, it won't be because you're letting it happen. It will be because someone is scared. And scared people are dangerous. I'm sure that when the divers found Whitman's body, it was not something the killer ever expected. After tonight, I'm equally sure that he will do what it takes to protect his identity and his secret.”

“Think you might be able to convince her to go home?” Ron asked.

Tony shook his head. “To paraphrase her words, the people in this town destroyed her family and threw her away. She's not going to let it happen again. So, no, she isn't the running kind.”

Gallagher sighed. “I was afraid you'd say that.”

“Just find out who's doing this,” Tony said. “You've got a bullet and a bullet casing, which is more than you had this morning. Now all you have to do is find the gun from which it was fired and you've got your man, right?”

Ron smiled grimly. “And we both know how difficult that's going to be in a place where nearly everyone owns at least one hunting rifle, if for no other reason than protection from bears or to scare away the odd moose.”

Tony looked around at the thickness of the trees surrounding his home. It was the first time he'd ever thought of the isolation of his house as anything but pleasurable.

“He's running scared, Ron. He'll make a mistake, and when he does, we'll get him.”

Gallagher nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Drive safe,” Tony said. “And keep us posted.”

“You got it,” Gallagher said, and walked away to his car.

Before his taillights had disappeared, Tony had locked the door and was on his way up to Sarah.

S
arah was in the shower when she heard a knock on the bathroom door. She poked her head out from behind the curtain long enough to answer.

“Yes?”

“Just wanted you to know I'm up here,” Tony said.

As soon as she heard Tony's voice, she began to relax.

“Okay…thank you,” she added. “I'll be out in a minute.”

She rinsed off quickly and turned off the water as she reached for a towel. The thick, heavy fabric cocooned her as she dried. When she had finished, she wrapped it around her body in lieu of the bathrobe she'd forgotten to bring in with her.

The moment she exited, Tony was at her side, handing her a nightgown, then turning his back as she slipped it over her head. “I'm decent now,” she said.

He turned, his gaze searching her face and her body for signs of injury. The slight abrasion on her chin made him hurt, knowing he was the cause of it, but it was nothing to the thought that, but for the fact that he'd started to kiss her, she would already be dead.

“I know you're scared,” he said.

She nodded.

“If it makes you feel any better, so am I.”

“Am I being selfish by staying here? I'm putting you at risk just by being in your house. I think I should—”

“Don't think,” he said, and took her in his arms. “Just be quiet and let me hold you. I'm still trying to get over the shock of thinking you were dead.”

Sarah laid her cheek against his chest, feeling the softness of his brown cable-knit sweater against her skin and hearing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat.

“Tony?”

“What?”

“You saved my life tonight.”

At first he didn't answer, but Sarah felt his arms tightening around her. Then he rubbed his chin back and forth very gently at the crown of her hair and chuckled.

“So…does this mean that you owe me some kind of mystical allegiance? That your life is mine to do with as I choose?”

“I was raised in Louisiana, not the Orient.”

“Darn. I knew that sounded too good to be true.”

“I will, however, grant you one wish,” she said. “After that, my genie days are over.”

This time he pulled back, eyeing her in disbelief.

“Anything I want?” he asked.

“Not exactly.”

He rolled his eyes and pretended disgust.

“I knew there was a catch. There's always a catch.”

“Hush,” Sarah said. “Okay, here's the deal. I make three of the most decadent desserts you've ever tasted. One is a triple chocolate cheesecake with raspberry sauce, one is a pecan pie with a secret ingredient, and the last is called angel pie. It's a meringue shell slow-baked in the oven, served with fresh sliced strawberries and topped with whipped cream. You pick.”

“Lord,” he muttered, looking decidedly intrigued. “Are you serious?”

“Entirely.”

“I'm a huge fan of chocolate and raspberries, but I've never had this angel pie concoction. And since I can't have you, I'll choose angel pie.”

She smiled with satisfaction. “Good. It will give me something to do tomorrow besides wonder when the next shoe is going to fall.”

Tony shook his head, marveling at her constant ability to bounce back.

“You know what? You're something.”

“How so?” Sarah asked.

“No matter what happens to you, you seem to be able to land on your feet.”

“Comes from having no expectations. That way I'm never disappointed.”

Tony frowned. “I don't like the sound of that,” he said. “Every woman should have expectations…of one sort or another.”

“Are you offering?” she asked.

He grinned. “Hell no, honey girl, because if you knew what I was thinking right now, it would scare you half to death.”

Intrigued, Sarah watched the mischief dancing in his eyes and grinned in spite of herself.

“Don't be too sure,” she said. “The more I'm around you, the easier you are to take.”

“Don't suppose I could talk you into a good-night kiss?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Now he asks, when he knows I owe him my life.”

Tony stood there, waiting for her to say no. When she didn't, he took it as a sign to proceed.

Sarah knew what was coming and thought she was braced for the contact. After all, it wasn't as if they hadn't done this. He'd kissed her senseless before, but she was ready for him now. She lifted her lips, half smiling as he lowered his head.

Contact came and, once again, good sense went.

Before she knew it, she had her arms around his neck and he was crushing her up against his chest. She heard him groan as her feet left the floor. Just as a series of mental fireworks were going off in her head, he turned her loose.

He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to pull air and sanity into his head. Knowing that there was nothing between him and her bare body but that damn gown was making him crazy.

“Well…now we know we can't do that again lightly. I'm going to make some phone calls. Is there anything I can get for you before you go to bed?”

“It's not even nine o'clock,” Sarah said. “I don't want to go to bed.”

Tony's fingers curled into fists, and then he jammed his hands into his pockets to keep from putting them back on her.

“Then do me a big favor and put on some more clothes,” he muttered. “I'm tough, but I don't know how many more of these kisses I can take without finishing what I started.”

“Aunt Lorett always says a person should never start more fires than he can put out.”

His eyes narrowed in frustration. “Your aunt Lorett has too damn many sayings to suit me,” he muttered. “I'll be in the library if you need me.”

As he was leaving, the phone rang. He looked at the extension on the table, then at Sarah.

“You answer it,” she said.

He picked it up, his greeting terse and brief.

“DeMarco.”

“What has happened to my girl?”

Tony drew a deep breath. The soft melodic lilt to the woman's voice was a mixture of patois and English, and he knew immediately who it was.

“Lorett Boudreaux?”

There was a moment of silence and then a less than delicate snort.

“You play at being psychic?”

Tony grinned. “No, ma'am. I never mess with the real thing. But I'm not stupid, either, and the only other person who sounds remotely like you is standing in front of me. Being the reasonably intelligent man that I am, I'm saying to myself, this must be Sarah's aunt Lorett.”

He heard a chuckle in his ear and then a sigh.

“What happened to my baby?” she asked.

“I'm going to pretend that I'm not surprised you already know and let her tell you the details. But I can assure you she's fine.”

“I will hear for myself,” she said.

Tony handed Sarah the phone. “It's your aunt Lorett. Put in a good word for me, will you? She's already on my case.”

He winked at Sarah and then left, giving her some privacy. He would make the calls he needed on his cell phone. He wanted security on the premises by morning.

“Baby girl…tell Aunt Lorett what has happened to you.”

The familiar voice and the concern in her words sent Sarah over the edge. She'd spent the evening making sure she stayed strong in front of the men, but now, hearing her surrogate mother's voice, she broke down.

“Someone shot at me tonight. If it hadn't been for Tony, I'd be dead.” There was a catch in her voice, and she started to weep. “Oh, Aunt Lorett, I can't do this by myself anymore. I need you. Can you come?”

“I will be there before the sun sets tomorrow. How will I find you?”

“Go to the Sheriff's Department in Marmet. They'll tell you how to get here. Or, better yet, when you get to Marmet, call and we'll come and get you.”

“No. I come to you,” she said. “Sleep well,
ma chère,
Tante Lorett will not let anyone hurt you.”

Sarah hung up the phone and then dropped to the side of the bed. Relief swept through her in waves as she thought about having Lorett with her in this. Between her aunt and Tony, Sarah figured she just might survive this after all.

 

Tony was making a fresh pot of coffee when the doorbell rang. He noted the time and frowned. It was a quarter to nine. A little late for uninvited visitors. Still he hurried to the door, half expecting it to be one of the deputies or the sheriff. It was neither.

“Moira! What brings you out this late at night?” he asked.

Moira Blake hurried inside the house, her expression tense and anxious.

“I heard sirens,” she said. “When I went out onto my back patio, I could see flashing lights here in front of your house. I know I should have called, but I was so worried. Is everything all right? Has someone taken ill?”

Tony took her coat and hung it on the hall tree as he escorted her into the living room.

“Come sit by the fire,” he said. “It's too cold to talk in the foyer.”

“Is Sarah ill?” Moira asked. “I know I should have followed up on my dinner invitation sooner, but I knew Sarah was dealing with a lot. I thought I'd give her some time.”

“I'm not ill, but thanks for asking,” Sarah said.

They both turned. Tony was on his feet immediately and hurrying toward her.

“Come sit by the fire. You can fill Moira in on what's happened while I get us some coffee.”

Sarah smiled her thanks as she took a seat.

Moira leaned forward, clasping Sarah's hand with her own.

“Dear, what's happened? I saw lights and thought an ambulance had been called.”

“No, ma'am. It was the sheriff.”

Moira frowned. “But why?”

“Someone tried to kill me.”

Moira gasped. “No! Dear God, tell me you're not serious. Was it a prowler? Did you and Tony surprise a thief?”

“I wish,” Sarah said, and then started to explain. When she finished, Moira's face was a study in disbelief and Tony was handing her a cup of hot coffee.

“I just can't wrap my mind around this,” the older woman said, then set the cup down on the table to keep from spilling it. “I can't tell you how sorry I am that this is happening to you.”

“Thank you,” Sarah said. “But you really don't need to apologize. It's not your fault someone wants me dead.”

“I still don't understand,” Moira said, looking to Tony for further explanation. “Why hurt Sarah?”

He glanced at Sarah, then shrugged. “Who knows? It's not as if killing her is going to stop the new investigation into who killed her father. I mean…that started before Sarah even knew his body had been found.”

“Right,” Moira said. “I guess that's why this makes no sense to me.”

“My reappearance in Marmet stirred up a lot of muddy water,” Sarah said. “But in my opinion, the man who killed my father is none too smart.”

Moira frowned. “What do you mean?”

“If he'd been as smart as he thinks he is, he would have ignored my arrival and pretended shock along with everyone else when they pulled my daddy out of Flagstaff Lake. The authorities had no way of knowing if the real thief was even alive, or still lived in the area. By attacking me, he's given his existence away.”

Moira nodded thoughtfully. “You're right,” she said. “Well, maybe he'll come to his senses and pull back.”

“One can only hope,” Sarah said.

“Anyway,” Moira said, looking at both Tony and Sarah, “I'm so relieved to know you're both all right, and to celebrate, won't you please come to my house tomorrow night for dinner? Around eight? I've invited some other people who feel as sympathetic toward you as I do, so I promise no awkward moments for you.”

“I don't know,” Sarah said, looking at Tony as she thought how to answer. He had yet to know her aunt was coming.

“If you don't want to go, don't,” Tony said. “My main purpose is to make this as easy for you as possible. The bodyguards will be here by then, so if you're worried about going out, don't be.”

“Bodyguards!” Moira said.

“And security outside, as well. There won't be any more unnoticed trespassing on my property, I can assure you of that,” Tony said.

Moira smiled. “I can't blame you, and selfishly, I have to say that it makes me feel just that much safer, too. A woman living alone can never be too careful, and I don't live all that far away from you. So, can I expect you?”