Reclaim My Life (19 page)

At 5:15, Wil checked his cell phone before leaving his office, satisfied that his deputies or dispatch clerk could contact him. After a long, busy day he looked forward to grabbing a bite to eat with his brother. On his way to the Hurricane Lantern, he detoured past the campus auditorium to see Elizabeth. He didn’t have a reason, not even an excuse. He just wanted to see her.

The placard by the door announced, “Auditions for
The Tempest.”
He slipped into the back of the auditorium, dimly lit except for the stage area where students read lines to three faculty members seated on the front row. Elizabeth sat on the aisle seat. Waiting until the students finished, Wil then strolled up the aisle and tapped Elizabeth’s shoulder.

She spun toward him, clutching her throat. “Oh, Sheriff Drake, you startled me.”

“Could I have a word with you, Professor Stevens?” She blanched and dropped her clip board. He realized then she must have thought he’d found Kris and thought the worst. “This isn’t about Kris.”

Turning to her colleague, she whispered something about Prospero, probably a role in the play. Then she rose to follow Wil toward the back. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think.”

She pushed her glasses up and peered at him. “Why are you here? I already spoke to that—to Ronda Lou.”

“I—aw, hell, darlin’, I just wanted to check on you. Promise me you’ll not go out alone and you’ll keep your doors locked, okay?”

“Of course—”

“I’m just being cautious.”

She dropped her voice. “Why? What’s happened? What aren’t you telling me, Wilson?”

“The profiler thinks the person who killed Cathleen Hodges is someone in the community, not some stranger passing through. That means you can’t afford to let down your guard around anyone you don’t know well.”

She gnawed at her lower lip. “Kris, Sunny, and I talked about this already. I know Kris was careful, which is why I’m so sure something’s happened to her.”

“I hope you’re wrong about Kris, but I won’t lie to you. I’m worried about her, too.”

“Wilson, what do you know about a mentally challenged man who rides a bike? I think his name is Ralph.”

“Ralph Sapp. He’s harmless as long as he gets his daily Dilly Bar. Why do you ask?”

“You’re certain he’s harmless? Sunny’s disturbed by her encounters with him while riding her bicycle, and she believes he obsessed about Cathleen after she treated him to a Dilly Bar one time.”

“He’s never seemed violent.” Wil rubbed his chin, recalling Ronda Lou’s profile of the offender. “I’d be a fool not to check it out, though. Thanks for telling me.”

“I need to get back.” She nodded toward the stage.

“I know. Would—would it be all right if I called you later? Just to put my mind at ease that you’re home safe and sound.”

She grinned at that. “You’re welcome to call and make sure I’m safe, but I’m not making any promises about being sound.”

“Cute.” He hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Look, this isn’t the time or place, but I need to tell you something. I care about you. A lot. And I meant what I said the other night about trusting me.”

“I, um—”

“We’ll talk later.” He left her to return to the auditioning students, and slipped out the back. He hoped he’d gotten his message across to her.

Heading for his Jeep, he chuckled for no apparent reason—just a general optimism that he’d missed during the day. Elizabeth had a sharp mind and a sense of humor. He liked that. If he could just figure out what turned her frosty at times, he’d warm her up to him once and for all. Right now, he’d settle for her trust. He hoped she’d decide to confide in him, especially now that he’d laid his heart on the line.

Sam drove into the parking lot at the same time as Wil did. They parked then walked to the restaurant together. “How’s Dad?” Sam asked.

“Good.” Wil motioned him inside then followed. “Dad’s speech improves every day. He can carry on a regular conversation now.”

Joyce motioned them over to one of her tables and handed them menus. After she left to get their iced teas, Sam resumed the conversation about their dad. “I’ll get by there and talk with him. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow and take him dinner.”

“He’d like that. Take him fried chicken. Hazel won’t make it for him.” Wil then brought Sam up to date about Sophie and the rat poison.

“So where’d you have to take her for treatment?”

Wil waited until Joyce delivered their drinks before answering. He leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “I’d rather it not get out, but we took her to Hodges Animal Clinic. I had the keys. Elizabeth knows a little about veterinary medicine and was able to treat Sophie.”

Sam frowned. “There’s no mention of that in her résumé.”

“She probably didn’t list it or any of a number of penny ante jobs she worked to get through college. Besides, how would you remember one résumé with all the people you hire?”

“I make it my job to know my faculty. Elizabeth Stevens didn’t go through the normal hiring process, anyway. She was sent to me—”

“Sent to you? I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I. Evidently, she has a lot of pull in the academic world, because her references were impeccable. I checked her out.”

“But don’t you have final say in the hiring and firing of the college personnel?”

Sam gave him a look that said,
Are you kidding?
“About as much as you do in the hiring and firing of yours. Government watchdogs make sure we observe fair hiring practices—”

“Hold on. What exactly are you saying about Elizabeth Stevens? You didn’t offer her the job?”

“She transferred from the University of Georgia in Athens. I could’ve said no, but why would I with her credentials?”

Wil narrowed his eyes. “What are you
not
telling me, Sam?”

Sam fidgeted and wouldn’t look him in the eye, a sure sign he had something to hide. Finally, he glanced in all directions then leaned forward, as if to reveal a dark secret. “I was sort of bribed. Or not me, but the college. With a donation.”

Wil digested that revelation. Someone made a generous donation to the college contingent upon Sam’s hiring Elizabeth? That made no sense. “Who?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. That’s part of the terms of endowment.” Sam chuckled as if he’d made a clever joke. Wil failed to understand it, but that was nothing new. Sam seemed to talk and live on a higher plane.

“Does she know?” Wil asked.

Sobering, Sam shook his head. “I have no idea. We never discussed it. But why should I look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth? She’s a fantastic English lit instructor, plus she’s been instrumental in reviving the drama depart— Wait a minute. What’s this about, anyway?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.” Wil mocked him with his own words, except for the
terms of endowment
part.

Sam leaned against the back of the booth and smirked. “Well, it’s either about your case or your love life.”

Or both. But Wil said nothing more because Joyce returned to take their dinner order. The rest of the evening he made superficial chitchat with his brother while his mind replayed the circumstances of Elizabeth’s job. It unsettled him more than a little. Why would someone buy her a position? As many scenarios as his mind sorted through, not one was good.

Sometime between the auditions for
The Tempest
and her solitary dinner of a nuked frozen entrée, Elizabeth reached a decision. Tomorrow she’d call Cory, her handler, and tell—not ask—him about confiding in the sheriff. Wilson had a right to know about the contract on her life, even if the marshals didn’t think it related to Cathleen’s murder. She trusted him not to say or do anything to compromise her. She’d played by the WitSec rules as long as it protected her, but she couldn’t at the expense of other people’s lives.

Having reached the decision to tell Wilson the truth, she relaxed for the first time since Kris’s disappearance. She didn’t fool herself into dreaming about romance with the sheriff, though, even if he knew her secret. As soon as she told him, the marshals would relocate her. They’d warned her that if she wanted to stay alive, she had to keep ahead of anyone who recognized her.

At eight o’clock, Elizabeth’s telephone rang. She paused her DVD of
Snow Dogs
to answer. “Hello?”

“It’s Wil. Everything all right there?”

“I’m all locked in and watching a comedy.”

“Is it too late for me to stop by?”

“I’m not in my jammies yet, if that’s what you mean, so come on.”

“I’m pulling onto your street now.” And he disconnected.

By the time she ejected the DVD and turned off her television, Wilson rang the doorbell. She invited him inside. “How about a Coke?”

“No, I can’t stay.” He stood right inside the doorway, as if afraid to step off the parquet and onto the carpet. “I wanted to ask if you’d go out with me tomorrow evening. You know, a date.”

She fought a grin and lost. “A date. Hmm.”

“Is that smile a yes?”

“Maybe. Is this dinner and a movie with your father?”

“Not this time. Sam’s taking Dad dinner tomorrow, so I’m all yours, darlin’. We can drive into Lake City or up to Valdosta—”

“Or stay right here and have pizza. I have to get up early Wednesday, and so do you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to think I’m a cheap date.”

“You can buy the pizza. Besides, I have something I need to talk to you about, and I’d rather talk here than in a noisy restaurant.”

“What’s that?”

“No, it can wait. It’s involved. I’ll tell you after you’re full of pizza and Coke.” She’d postpone one more day. Because once he knew the truth, he’d be angry with her for withholding information, and she’d be miserable knowing she had to leave Drake Springs.

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow as I’m leaving the office. I’m not sure what time that’ll be.”

“That’s fine.”

“Just one more thing.” In a sudden, unexpected move, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close.

His gold star lapel pin glinted with reflected light into her eye. She blinked, and for one ridiculous instant, she imagined her eye sparkling stars like a love-struck cartoon character, and a burst of hearts ballooning over her head. She looked up and met his green-eyed gaze, filled with heat and something else—desire? As if she were a chocolate sundae and he wanted to devour her. Time stopped. He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

She lifted her face a fraction of an inch and whispered, “What?”

He pressed his mouth against hers in a firm, possessive kiss. The touch of his lips, though brief, softened and molded against hers. She leaned into him for more, and red-hot need spiked through her. Passion dormant for too long ignited in a matter of seconds.

His breath warmed her face when he pulled back. Staring at her with eyes as smoldering as his kiss, he said, “Good night, darlin’.”

Like heat lightning, he was gone, leaving her to wonder if the kiss had been only in her imagination. But her lips tingled, and his taste lingered. Her body hummed with unfulfilled arousal, beyond anything she could fantasize.

Worse was the realization that Wilson could’ve taken everything from her, whatever he wanted. He’d been the one to bring their single, bone-dissolving kiss to an end. At least one of them behaved sensibly. What a pity, since one taste of Wilson had her yearning for much, much more.

Tuesday morning dawned cloudless and windless without a promise of rain, the odor of wood smoke wafting from the north. The temperature had dropped to the sixties, hardly cool enough to warrant using a fireplace. Usually a light morning fog hovered over the river by Wil’s cabin when he walked Sophie, but not today.

He dropped the dog off at the big house with his dad, then walked the short distance to where he’d parked. Grabbing his garden hose, he washed the black insect remains off his windshield before leaving for work. If there was anything good to be said about the summer drought, it was the decrease in the love bug population.

Although he’d dressed in suit and tie for his meeting with the FDLE profiler yesterday, he’d reverted to his usual uniform this morning. Ronda Lou had said she wanted to visit the scene where they’d found the body, and he intended to be comfortable. He imagined she’d brought her uniform, too.