Deep Autumn Heat (8 page)

“I think so.”

Gently, Seb helped pull her into a standing position. He looked her over carefully, softly patting her down from her arms to her waist. “I think you’re in one piece. Nothing broken, but you’ll probably have some bruises.”

“I’m fine,” she said automatically. Absently, she rubbed her shoulder.

“No, you’re not. You’re acting like a zombie. The sheriff’s station is only a couple of blocks away. Let me walk you there so you can report this, and then I’ll take you home.”

Just then, Val and Buster raced up to them. “Lexie,” Buster said hoarsely, reaching for her. “You okay?”

Lexie took Buster’s hand, but kept her eyes trained on Seb. “Yes. Some guy attacked me, but Seb chased him off.”

“Let me take you to the sheriff’s department,” Buster said.

“Got it covered,” Seb said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

In the dim light, Buster gave him a searching look. Finally, after a long moment, Buster blinked and turned back to Lexie. “Go with Seb. He’ll take care of you.”

Reluctantly, Lexie nodded her assent.

“I’ll catch you later, Val,” Seb said, noting his brother’s approving look. Then with his arm still around Lexie’s shoulders, he turned her in the right direction. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Lexie could think of a million places she’d rather be than sitting on a hard wooden chair in the Star Harbor Sheriff’s Department at nine on a Sunday evening. Strangely enough, she felt calm in spite of what she’d been through, probably because she was sitting with two of the Grayson brothers.

Cole sat in front of her at his desk, his head bent down as he filled out the incident report. Seb was sprawled out in the chair to her left, watching her intently. The two large men seemed to take up so much space around her.

Lexie took a deep breath and peered through the glass separating Cole’s office from the rest of the station. Everything about the station was Spartan and tidy. One of Cole’s deputies, an older man named Pete Thawley, sat just outside Cole’s office at a large wooden desk piled high
with neatly stacked papers. Ten feet farther away, Deputy Hank Jacobs, a man about her own age, sat at his own desk talking on the telephone, his deep voice echoing in the main room.

Hank had been hired by Cole just after he was appointed sheriff, but even though he was a newcomer, he already seemed like a town fixture. Nice enough looking, with dark blond hair, a medium complexion, and brown eyes, the guy had come by the LMK a few times with more than just lunch on his mind. Lexie had been polite, but she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested. To his credit, he’d immediately backed off.

She looked past Hank toward the front of the station, where the department’s dispatcher and secretary were sitting. Rhonda Lee had been nothing but friendly to Lexie since she’d arrived in town. Right now she was on the telephone, her poufy blond hair shaped like a halo around her head. When she saw Lexie watching her, she gave her a little smile, which Lexie returned.

There was nothing much else to see. The walls were bare, and the only books lining the bookshelf against the back wall were dark blue binders, probably police procedurals. Though he’d only been there for a short time, Cole clearly ran a tight ship.

“All right,” he said. “The preliminary stuff is out of the way. Now I’d like to ask you some questions about the attack.”

She glanced at Seb, who nodded reassuringly. “Okay. Where should I start?”

“What time did it happen?”

“Well, the movie started at eight-fifteen, so maybe between eight-twenty and eight-thirty.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Um—” Lexie stalled for time, realizing how awkward the situation was. The reason she’d left was sitting right next to her. “I wasn’t enjoying myself,” she said diplomatically. Seb shifted almost imperceptibly in his chair.

“So you got up and walked away from the crowd,” Cole prodded.

“Right. I was heading back to the Kitchen.”

“Let’s step back a minute. Who was with you at the movie?”

“I went with Buster, but I ran into Val and Seb. They sat behind us.”

“I see.” Cole stared at Seb, who stared back with the same intensity. “Did any of them offer to walk you back to the restaurant?”

“Yes—well, no—er, not exactly,” Lexie stammered.

“Why don’t you take it slow and tell me what you remember?” Cole said smoothly. “Take as much time as you need.”

Lexie took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try. Buster wanted to walk me back to the restaurant, but I told him to stay and enjoy the movie. I was about thirty yards away from the crowd when I heard someone rushing up behind me.” Lexie stopped, then continued. “Honestly, I thought it was Sebastian.” She shook her head, ignoring Cole’s slight frown. “But it wasn’t. It was a guy in a ski mask. I’m sure it was a guy because when he ran into me, his body felt really solid. Not like a woman at all. Anyway, he knocked me down and got on top of me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and started to reach for my throat. But before he could do anything bad, I heard Seb calling out, telling him to get off.”

“Seb, did you get a good look at the guy?”

“Nope,” Seb responded. “He was too far away from me. Maybe about thirty feet. It was hard to gauge in the dark.”

Cole frowned again. “Okay, Lexie, please continue.”

“So, after Seb called out, the guy leapt off me and it seemed like he was debating whether to stay or run.”

“Why do you think that?” Cole interjected, looking up from the notes he’d been taking.

“Because he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. Like he couldn’t decide what he was going to do.”

“But he ran?”

“Yes. Seb was coming up on us pretty fast. I think the guy was scared of him. And by that time, some of the other people on the Green had noticed that something was going on.”

Cole glanced at Seb for confirmation. Seb nodded, his lips tight.

“Is there anything else you can remember about him?” Cole continued. “I know you couldn’t see his face, but did you see his hands?”

“No, he was wearing gloves. And I didn’t notice anything unusual about him because it was so dark and I was taken by surprise.”

“What about any other identifying factors. Did he say anything? Did he smell any particular way?”

“Smell.” Lexie stiffened, remembering the musky waft she’d gotten when the man tackled her. In all the furor, it had honestly slipped her mind, but now that she remembered, a sick feeling washed over her. “I hadn’t even thought about it until just now, but yes. He smelled like sandalwood.” She felt the blood drain from her face.

“You know someone who smells like that,” Cole said. It was a statement, not a question.

“I used to,” Lexie whispered, pushing back the nausea that rose in her throat.

“Who?”

“My ex-boyfriend, Frank Doherty.”

“And who is that?”

“He is—was—a man I was seeing in Berkeley.”
The one who made my life a living hell
. Subtly, she felt Seb shift beside her.

“Does he know you live here?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I moved without telling him, and my parents know not to say anything to him.”

Cole’s gaze bored down into her. “Why?” he asked.

“We ended on a bad note. I took out a restraining order against him,” Lexie said, coming to the unpleasant realization that this might be a significant piece of information.

Seb coughed slightly and Lexie turned. He was staring at her, his gaze hard and direct, but there was something else behind his eyes that she couldn’t quite place.

Cole cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you didn’t report this to the department before.”

“How would it have helped? Doesn’t the restraining order protect me?”

“The restraining order was taken out in California, so for us to be able to enforce it in Massachusetts, we’d have to know about it. You should have filed a certified copy with the court as soon as you moved here to get it entered into the statewide database. Then if you had told us about it, we would have made a note in our records to keep an eye out for anyone matching your ex- boyfriend’s description. One of the benefits of living in a small town is that we look after our own.”

“I … I didn’t know I should do any of that. I just wanted to forget about it. I thought about it, I guess, but I just didn’t think he’d be able to find me here.” She’d be a happy woman if she could erase Frank Doherty from her memory entirely. Frank had made her life so hellish that she’d had nightmares about him for a full year after she’d left California—manipulative things he’d said, threats he’d made, and of course, his last, desperate act: trying to rape her when he realized she was leaving him. Now that a few years had passed, she’d finally started living in the present instead of the past. Reliving that horrible time in her life was not something she wanted to do.

“Well, let’s check his whereabouts. California is three hours behind Eastern Time.” Cole glanced at the clock and typed a few strokes on his computer. “It’s only six o’clock there. Berkeley’s in Alameda County, right?”

“Yes.”

“Got it.” Cole picked up the telephone and dialed. Lexie could hear a muffled voice on the other end.

“Hi, this is Nicholas Grayson, sheriff of Star Harbor, Massachusetts. I’m calling about the whereabouts of a Frank Doherty, one of yours. I’ve got a woman here who’s taken out a restraining order against him.” There was a pause as the voice spoke. “We have reason to believe that Mr. Doherty may be in Massachusetts. Can you give me any information on his current location?” There was a pause. “Great. Uh-huh. I’ll hold.”

Cole covered the mouthpiece with a hand and whispered to Lexie, “They’re checking for
us.” They waited in silence for a few moments before Lexie heard the voice again. Cole listened intently, speaking intermittently.

“Yes. Yes. I’d appreciate that. Please. Thanks. I’ll wait to hear from you.” He hung up the phone.

“They’ve got an address on file and they’re going to swing by his place to see if he’s there or if his neighbors know where he is. They’ll call us back later.” Cole scribbled some additional notes on the incident report.

“You really think it’s him?” Lexie asked, becoming more concerned. “That he followed me here after all these years?”

“It’s hard to tell. But I’d sure like to know where Mr. Doherty is right now. Once we get that cleared up we can move on with the investigation, but until then, that avenue is still wide open.” Cole put the pen he was holding down on the desk. “So, is there anything else you can tell me about the attack?

“No, that’s all I can remember.”

“Have you gotten any threats recently?”

Lexie laughed. “Sure. Lots.”

“What?” Seb interjected, sounding incredulous.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to be flip, but really, it’s nothing. Just a joke that Paige Sinclair likes to play on me.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed. “Who is Paige Sinclair?”

“She owns a bakeshop in Falmouth. She’s been after my coconut cake recipe for a long time.” Lexie laughed again. “Like I’d give it to her just because she leaves me those stupid notes.”

“What kind of stupid notes has she been leaving?”

“Oh, things like ‘if you don’t give me the recipe you’ll be sorry.’ Kid stuff. She leaves them on the back door of the restaurant.” She grabbed her purse and fished around for the notes. “The packet’s in here somewhere. Buster made me keep them all, and coincidently, I put them in
my bag tonight to take them home.”

Lexie found the packet of notes and placed them on Cole’s desk. Seb leaned forward, brows furrowing.

“Uh, Lexie?” Cole asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes?” she answered a little nervously, seeing both Cole’s and Seb’s disapproving expressions.

“There are at least a dozen notes in here.”

“Yes. There are quite a lot.”

“How long have you been getting these notes?”

“For about a year.”

“Lexie.” His voice was a silken warning.

“Mm-hm?” she responded.

“You should have reported this earlier. Much earlier.”

“But why? You really don’t think this is tied to the guy who just attacked me, do you?”

“Because from what you’ve told me, these letters don’t really sound like a harmless prank. What if it’s not Paige? What if it’s someone else who is making real threats and who might hurt you if their demands aren’t met?” Cole sighed. “I don’t know what these letters say, but I intend to study them thoroughly. At a minimum, they constitute harassment. With the threat component, I’d venture to say they rise to the level of stalking.”

“Stalking?” Lexie’s voice went up a pitch.

“Yes, stalking. We have civil and criminal laws against harassment and stalking in Massachusetts. I’d like to review these notes myself before sending them to Barnstable County. They have a forensics expert there who specializes in handwriting.”

“If that’s what you think is best, then please do it.” She was sure Paige was the one leaving the notes, but she wasn’t going to get in Cole’s way.

Cole looked at her sternly. “Lexie, it seems to me that you’ve been rather cavalier about your personal welfare as of late. For someone who had to take out a restraining order against a
former boyfriend, you’re not very concerned about your safety.” Lexie opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to indicate she should let him finish. “I’m not going to place any restrictions on your comings and goings; you’re not the one at fault here. But I am going to ask you to be a little more sensible about where you go and what you do. Don’t stay at work too late, unless Buster is there, too. Be mindful of your surroundings and try to keep near other folks. And for God’s sake, don’t walk home alone at night.”

“Honestly, I never thought I’d have to be so vigilant after taking out that restraining order and moving clear across the country. I was just happy to be away from him.” Lexie swallowed. “I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“We’ll get this whole affair wrapped up as quickly as we can, I promise,” Cole said. “Can you think of anything else that might be useful for us to know?”

“No, I really think that’s it,” she said, reaching for her bag, wanting only to go home. “Would it be all right if I left now?”