Rising Heat (81 page)

Forever and always.

Who the hell? I quickly slid the photograph back behind the other one and then behind the money, just as I had found it. Closing his wallet, I placed it back exactly the way it had been on his jacket. I moved back to the bed, my hands shaking slightly, my thoughts in turmoil. For the first time, doubt niggled at the edges of my brain. I didn’t know who to trust anymore.

T
he night passed quietly, filled with a stilted, awkward silence. I slept on the bed while Hawk bedded down in front of the fireplace. It wasn’t chilly enough to start a fire. I could say I slept, because in actuality, I didn’t. Not really. Dozed on and off. All I could think of was Hawk with Detective Westin’s former wife. Together. No wonder there was so much animosity between them. Would that animosity interfere with any efforts that Hawk made to gain cooperation or information from the police? How couldn’t it?

Even more disturbing was the question of whether Hawk made a habit of
this.
Having sex with his clients. Vulnerable women looking for protection and comfort, a sense of security under scary circumstances? I didn’t want to think so. I didn’t want to think that Hawk took advantage like that of anyone. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seduced me. Anything I had done with him had been of my own free will. Maybe it was the same way with Jessica. Hawk was damned near irresistible.

While my common sense was telling me that he was not a user in that sense of the word, my heart was feeling something different. And it was at that moment that I realized how deep my feelings for Hawk had grown.

Did I love him? I had no idea, but the truth of the matter was I felt a lot more for him than I thought I did. I realized that my fondness of him
did
go beyond just respect and admiration. Would this change anything? I wasn’t sure. Hawk had been especially quiet after he returned from taking a leak. We didn’t talk about Jessica, or really much of anything after that. He had asked me if I was hungry, to which I replied no, and then simply opened a can of beans and ate them cold, right out of the can.

He’d made a bed for himself in front of the fireplace out of extra blankets, then suggested I go outside and take care of business before we locked ourselves in for the night. I did, and then returned to the cabin. Exhausted in more ways than one, we each sought our beds as darkness invaded the cabin. Soon, he was softly snoring. I tossed and turned, then simply stared at the ceiling.

What are you doing, Tracy Whitcomb? Falling in love with the P.I.? Making him into something he wasn’t? My knight in shining armor who would save me from the bad guy? Expecting him to do the impossible and find the stalker, the killer, the potential serial murderer and I would live happily ever after?

I couldn’t believe it. Was I that naïve? Was I feeling that vulnerable? Once again, I had to remind myself that I couldn’t really rely on anyone beside myself. Yes, the police, the detectives, Hawk, even the FBI profilers might be able to help me, but when it came right down to it, this was all about me. And the person stalking me.

My mind went round and round, my thoughts jumping from one scenario to another, each one growing increasingly frightening and violent. Just before I slipped into exhausted slumber, I decided that tomorrow I would talk to the detectives myself, demand to know exactly what they could or could not do in regard to protecting me.

I had decisions to make. Not only for my personal safety, but in regard to my business. I couldn’t remain in limbo forever.

*

Morning dawned clear and bright. Hawk sat in front of the fireplace, watching me as I woke, stretched and sat up on the bed. I hadn’t even slid under the covers. He informed me that we would go back into Seneca, to his office to be more specific. I would be safe there. He had some errands to run, some leads to follow that might take him most of the day. He didn’t want me to have to stay up here all alone the entire time. He told me I could stay in his office, maybe do some work on my laptop.

He wouldn’t tell me what he planned and despite my annoyance about that, I was pleased that I didn’t have to stay cooped up in this cabin all by myself. I was excited over the fact that I might even be able to get a little bit of work done, at least finish the projects I was working on. That would make me feel a little better at least, and the money I would be able to deposit into my bank account.

Neither one of us said much as we left the cabin. We walked side-by-side down a barely discernible trail toward where he parked his Jeep deep in a cluster of trees. It was a tight squeeze getting out of the woods, even after tucking in the side view mirrors. Eventually, we emerged out onto the highway.

It was a pleasant drive, no signs of anyone following, but for the first time since I met Hawk, I couldn’t deny the feeling that I was a bit off-balance. His admission last night had taken me by surprise. Yet I had to remind myself that we weren’t dating, we weren’t a couple, we weren’t anything.

Still, the truth of the reason behind his and Westin’s obvious dislike of one another disturbed me. It wasn’t so much the fact that Hawk had slept with another woman, or even if it was Westin’s wife. I’d slept with other people too. I couldn’t hold that against Hawk. It was the fact that this animosity between them could very well hamper the investigation of my stalker.

My stalker. My potential killer? Would this difficulty in these two men’s relationship hamper their ability to work together to help me?

“You might as well just spit it out,” Hawk said suddenly, staring through the windshield as he drove.

I could’ve played down my concerns and said I didn’t understand what he meant, but I wanted us to always be honest with each other, although I had no intention of telling him I snooped in his wallet and seen the photograph of the red-haired woman. And I did explain my concerns. “It’s obvious that you and Westin don’t like each other. In fact, I might even venture to say that Westin hates you. How is this going to affect my case, Hawk? Is Westin going to withhold information to get back at you—?”

“He’s a professional, Tracy,” Hawk said, glancing at me. “I’ve worked with Cutter and Westin for several years in my business, and—”

“But there’s a chance. Consciously or not, it’s doubtful that Westin doesn’t hold a grudge against you. Does Cutter know about what happened?”

He nodded. I was rather surprised by that. “Does anybody else?”

Hawk shrugged. “I didn’t advertise it, and I doubt if Westin has either. Do I know if he’s told anyone else in the police department? No, I don’t.”

I thought about that as he continued. “Tracy, listen to me. It was years ago. Westin’s moved on. He’s dated numerous women since his divorce. And Jessica? She moved away several years ago. Since then, Westin and I have consulted and cooperated with each other on several cases—”

“But Cutter’s always been the buffer, hasn’t he?” I broke in.

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

“Don’t be obtuse, Hawk,” I said, shaking my head and looking at him. “Have you and Westin ever worked a case together without Cutter serving as a buffer between you two?”

“Westin and Cutter are partners,” he replied patiently. “When I’ve worked or consulted with the police department, or with the detectives, it’s been a team effort. Westin wouldn’t withhold information from me if it would endanger anyone.”

“Are you sure about that?” He looked at me and nodded. I couldn’t be so sure. After all, I had every right to be concerned, didn’t I?

I said nothing more as we quietly drove the rest of the way into town. The door to the quilt shop was unlocked, but when we entered, I didn’t see Zach nor the older woman. Maybe back in the storeroom. I didn’t care. I quickly pulled the door to his staircase open and quickly made my way into his office. Behind me, Hawk carried my overnight bag and my laptop satchel upstairs. He told me to make use of his desk.

“Where are you going?” I asked, sinking into his chair.

“I want to follow up on a couple of people, some potential leads.” He held up a hand. “I’m not going to say anything about it until I determine their accuracy.”

“You mean from your confidential informant?”

He nodded. “Yes, and maybe another potential source of information. Then I want to stop by the police station in Maple Grove, see if I can get any information from them. Then I want to stop and see what Cutter and Westin have been able to dig up. Maybe they can give me an update.”

I said nothing, but busied myself plugging in my laptop and opening the lid. I heard Hawk sigh and glanced up at him.

“I’m trying to be completely honest with you, Tracy,” he said. “I don’t want to keep things from you or hide the truth. I do want to assure you though, if that’s what has you concerned, that my relationship, a brief relationship, with Westin’s ex-wife was just that. Brief. It’s over, and everyone’s moved on. I need you to believe that, for yourself as well as for the sake of the investigation.”

“I’ll try,” I said, then watched as he nodded once and turned to leave the office.

“Lock the door behind me,” he ordered. The door closed softly behind them.

I sighed, rose from the desk chair and walked to the door, locking it before returning to the desk. I sat down and stared at my laptop screen for several minutes, considering his words. I wanted to believe him, really I did.

I kept myself busy working on my client’s website. I stopped once in a while to reply to e-mails, but tried to finish it least one website so that I could look forward to his review, and hopefully within a day or two, payment. The doctor’s website was still in progress. I sent him an update, telling them I would have it finished within the next few days. I hoped I would be able to keep my word.

Hawk was gone for hours, most of the day actually. I was taking a break and standing beside one of his office windows, the one that looked out to the side of the building. I idly watched passersby as they went about their business, although I couldn’t see too much of the street from here. I envied them. Their freedom of movement. Their lack of concern. They didn’t have a stalker after them, or if they did, they certainly didn’t know it.

Then I recognized Zach approaching the building from the coffee shop across the street. Now he was an odd duck. Working in a quilt shop. Then I scolded myself. Why should I think that of him? He was making a living just like me. He was helping out his mom. Maybe they were even partners in the business. What right did I have to be judgmental just because he didn’t work in a traditionally male career?

Just then he looked up at the windows of Hawk’s office and saw me standing in the window. He smiled and lifted his coffee in wordless greeting. I smiled and waved. Then he disappeared. I heard the bell tinkle over the door downstairs.

I had just moved back to Hawk’s desk when I heard the tinkle of the doorbell again. Maybe they had a customer. Then I heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs outside of Hawk’s office. A moment later, two knocks.

“Tracy, it’s me.”

I recognized Hawk’s voice and stepped to open the door. I opened it and stepped back so that he could come inside. My smile disappeared when I noticed his expression. He didn’t look happy. I immediately experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“What is it?”

He strode to his desk, sat down, and stared at the screensaver ribbons dancing across my laptop screen for a moment before looking up at me. “Can I close this?”

I nodded and he carefully closed the lid. “The FBI is not going to talk to me, or you.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“Typical territorial bullshit,” he muttered.

I didn’t say anything for a moment. “Even if that territorial bullshit involves an innocent life? Like mine?”

He looked at me. “From what I gather, there’s not that much more than the profile the FBI can give at this time. Besides, unless they’re invited into the jurisdiction to take part in an investigation, there’s not much more they can do other than offer a tentative profile.”

“What do you mean, invited into the jurisdiction?” I demanded. I wasn’t mad at Hawk, but frustrated. It didn’t appear as if the FBI wanted to keep either one of us informed about the progress, or lack thereof, of the investigation into the other killings. And what about Cutter and Westin? “What did Cutter have to say about that?”

“He was upset, as was Westin, but they’re detectives. They’re not the Chief of Police. Only the Chief of Police can invite the FBI into their local jurisdiction.”

I didn’t understand. “So why hasn’t he?”

Hawk shrugged. “Pride? Territoriality? Concern that the FBI will swoop in and take over the investigation? Who knows? This tug of war between different organizations, even between police departments and other law enforcement agencies, has been going on for generations.”

“Well, that’s just stupid.” I crossed my arms over my chest and began to pace back and forth in front of his desk. “Who cares who solves the case as long as it’s solved? I’m not just talking about my case, Hawk, but anyone’s.” Still, I knew what he was talking about. This territoriality didn’t just exist among law enforcement agencies.

I had been friends once with a nurse’s aide in Boston. Typically, staff was assigned to take care of certain halls in hospitals, nursing homes, or assisted living centers. At this one nursing home where she worked, she used to get so angry because no one wanted to “cross over” into another hall to answer a call light or anything else if the patient wasn’t on
their
hall. It was really stupid and bothered my friend to no end. One time, she had crossed from her hall to the other to help a patient whose call light had been flashing for more than a few minutes without answer. She had actually gotten scolded by several of the nurse’s aides and the nurse in charge of that hall, in spite of the fact that my friend had just been trying to help.

“Territoriality is bullshit,” I snapped.

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Hawk said. “Cutter’s trying to talk to the Chief now, to convince him to let the FBI in, at least in regard to some advice and direction.”