Silk and Stone (65 page)

She halted in front of Jake and Detective Doop. “Bo’s awake and eager to work,” she said.

The detective squinted at him. “How can you tell, ma’am?”

“He’s just a little rusty.” She avoided looking at Jake, afraid he’d recognize her strained optimism. “What are we looking for?”

Detective Doop’s puckish expression faded. “A child, ma’am. A little girl.”

She felt the blood drain out of her face. “I thought … I assumed … you didn’t explain—”

“Didn’t want to upset you, ma’am.”

“Hoke didn’t expect you to come with me,” Jake interjected.

Sam inhaled sharply. “Be that as it may. Why are we the only ones here? Doesn’t a lost child rate more people power than this?”

Hoke Doop nodded grimly. “They’re all congregated on the other side of town, hunting through a stretch of woods along the highway. But I got a hunch that baby’s body is around here.”

“
Body
?”

Doop sighed. “All right, folks, here’s all seven yards of it. There’s a bunch of apartments ’bout a mile from here. Woman kicked her no-account boyfriend out. He come back to her place last night, beat her up, then run off with her baby. We picked him up just short of the state line this morning. No baby. He’s not talkin’. Everybody figures he most likely killed her and tossed her along the interstate. I don’t think he waited that long. I think he come over to this godforsaken stretch of nothin’ and dumped the baby in the woods. Just a hunch.”

Just a hunch
? Sam felt sick, then furious. This man had dragged Jake here without good reason. Oh, yes, call Jake Raincrow on a whim. Toss him into a grisly scenario as if he had no feelings. But Jake seemed unfazed. She swallowed the scorching words she wanted to say.

Doop pulled a heartbreakingly small pink T-shirt from his coat pocket and handed it to Jake. “What do you think?”

Motionless and apparently lost in concentration, Jake held the shirt in both hands. “Your guess is as good as mine.” Sam searched his face. Jake didn’t make flippant statements. Something didn’t jibe here. If he were a weaver she’d say he and Detective Doop were deliberately skipping a few threads in the warp. “Shouldn’t you be using something that the
man
wore? I mean, if this monster carried the baby into the woods, what good does it do to give Bo the
baby’s
scent?”

Jake straightened, tucked the tiny shirt into the waist of his jeans, then reached into his back pocket. “Good question. I haven’t got time to answer it. I’m going. You wait here.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t come with you to be left behind now. I won’t slow you down. I
am
going with you and Bo.”

“Hmmm. I figured you’d say that.” He held out a hand to her.

Was he going to pull her along behind him like a straggling hiker? All right. She wouldn’t debate small insults. Sam thrust her gloved hand into his.

He brought his other hand from behind his back and snapped a cuff around her wrist. Before the gasp of protest cleared her lips, he pulled her wrist to the side mirror of Doop’s sedan and snapped the cuff’s partner around the mirror’s shank. “Sorry,” he told her gruffly. “Hoke’ll keep you company.”

Then he walked away, gesturing to Bo to follow him.

Sam jerked frantically against the manacle. “This isn’t fair!”

He kept walking and didn’t look back.

Ben looked as if he’d been stirred with a whisk—dark hair disheveled, bare legs tangled in the quilt, one arm dangled around her shoulders, his head barely anchoring a pillow that hung half off the bottom corner of the bed. Charlotte suspected she looked the same way. She was splayed across his chest with the entire sheet wadded atop her naked rump like a giant dollop of whipped cream, her chin propped on her forearm, her forearm crooked on his chest. It was peaceful chaos. Each of them kept one hand free to explore all the newly discovered territory.

She wasn’t certain how long they’d been in Sammie’s spare bedroom, but the murky afternoon light was beginning to fade. Charlotte found herself listening for Sammie’s car. Reality crept back, and she started asking herself what in the world she’d done.

“You’re losing your dewy-eyed reverie,” Ben noted gruffly. He trailed his fingertips down her spine. “Don’t stop looking into my eyes as if I’m a great recipe you’ve discovered. I like it.”

“Sammie and Jake should have been the first ones to do the horizontal two-step in their own house.”

“They were.”

“No, I mean, after Jake came back.”

“We’ll be their inspiration, then.”

“I’m not telling my sister that we went nuts and used her spare bedroom for a motel.” Charlotte sat up. Ben’s hypnotic gaze dropped to her breasts. “I’m trying not to stare lecherously,” he told her. “But they
are
impossible to ignore.”

“I don’t mind. You’re the sweetest, most gentle man in the world.” She looked away, blushing. Hiding behind wisecracks was much easier than telling the truth.

“Tell the aliens they can keep her.”

“Who?”

“The impostor they were trying to foist off on me before this afternoon.” His expression became mischievous. “How did they do it? Mind-meld? Cloning? Did you notice a large larvaelike pod under your bed one night?
Never
fall asleep when a large pod is waiting to metamorphose into your exact replica.”

“I have a large larvaelike pod in bed with me right
now.
” She hesitated, then added softly, “But I wouldn’t change a thing about him.”

“I promise, I’m the real McCoy.”

“The McCoys had a Jewish branch?”

“The McCoybergs. They shortened it at Ellis Island.”

“I see.” She searched his eyes seriously. “You realize, of course, that I’m a religious handicap.”

“Funny, I don’t feel culturally disabled. In fact, I feel blessed.”

She made a soft sound of pleasure. “You sure you want to be one of the shiksa-challenged?”

“I’ll decorate Christmas trees if you’ll cook the seder dinner.” Charlotte frowned and looked away. After an awkward moment Ben added, “I can’t believe you’d turn down an opportunity to cook.”

“It’s not that. I’d be happy to cook the seder dinner every night and twice on Sundays.”

“I believe,” he said coyly, “that once a year is all
that’s required. Think of it as Thanksgiving with kosher wine.”

“We’re avoiding the real issue. You think I’ve forgotten about going back to California.”

“No, I think you were never serious about that.” He cupped the back of her head, splaying his fingers into her hair and rubbing small, seductive circles. Charlotte trembled. “We’re on a high plateau, Ben. I’d like to stay put awhile and catch my breath. Adjust to the altitude. Not look back, and not look forward either.”

“Just wait for a strong wind to push you in the right direction,” he said sardonically. “All right, I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and I’ll—”

“Hyperventilate. Rest your case, Perry Mason. Your briefs have a hole in the them.”

“I haven’t forgotten our earlier conversation either—though it feels as if it happened in another lifetime, arguing with that alien.” He sat up. He searched her face somberly. “Your aunt bullied you. You’ve got some bad memories. But that was more than ten years ago, and you’re a grown woman now. There’s no good reason for you to feel threatened.”

Shame and bitterness rose in Charlotte’s throat. She didn’t want the man she loved to learn that she’d been mauled by her own cousin and called an emotionally disturbed liar by Aunt Alex. Her memory of the lust on Tim’s face when he’d grabbed her breasts still made her feel confused. An endless cycle of self-doubt stayed with her. Was she provocative in some way she didn’t recognize? She’d read dozens of books about incest, consumed the reassurances of every therapist who discussed the subject on TV talk shows, but deep down she still felt there was something wrong with
her
too.

Ben knew she was quirky. But he didn’t know she was capable of slicing off ears with a carving knife.

She lifted the corner of the quilt that covered his thighs. Nodding toward their jaunty centerpiece, she said brusquely, “That key is
very
useful, but there are some doors it won’t open.”

He scowled and started to reply, but she scrambled
out of bed. Their clothes were scattered everywhere. She found her overalls and tube top in a corner. “R and R is over, soldier. Help me square this place away. It’s back to the front lines. I’m going on a reconnaissance mission.”

“You can’t evade my questions forever.”

“I’ve shown you all the good stuff.” She dressed quickly and gazed at him with all the nonchalance she could fake. “Save your energy for what matters. I’ll get some clean sheets for this bed. Then let’s find Jake, so you can discuss the office lease with him. Then we can traipse back to Condo World and toss a coin to see whose sheets we’re going to wrinkle next—yours or mine.”

“Don’t try to distract me with dessert when I’m still waiting for the entree.”

She went to the door, looked back over her shoulder, and forced a smile. “I never promised you a full-course meal.”

“Good Lord,” Doop muttered under his breath. He seemed shocked, too, standing there with her locked to his sideview mirror. The grizzled, stocky detective looked at Sam as if he were embarrassed and didn’t know what to say. She pounded her free hand on the car’s fender. “You have a key, don’t you? Unlock my wrist.”

“Ma’am, I … I’ve seen a lot of strange things, but nothing quite like this. I depend on Jake. Trust him. Feel bad for what happened to him, ’cause I think he got a raw deal. I figure him for a man who does things for good reason.”

“Not this time.
Please
unlock this cuff. You don’t understand. You’ve never met me before because even when Jake and I were first married he never let me go on tracking jobs with him. It was the only part of his life he shut me out of. I don’t know why. But I know that if I hadn’t let him do it, I’d have been with him when he really needed me. He wouldn’t have gotten into trouble.
I can’t let him shut me out again.
”

Doop shifted uneasily. “I’m no good at playin’ marriage counselor, ma’am.” He scowled. “You settle down
now. If it starts to rain, I’ll give you a tarp to hold over your head.”

Sam strained her eyes toward the woods, then twisted toward Doop. “I can tell that you respect my husband, and he respects you. But you’re not helping him this way. He’s got something bottled up inside him. He’s always been that way. I’ve got to find out what it is so it can’t hurt him again.”

Doop waved his hands soothingly. “Well, of course, havin’ the
touch
can set a person apart. At least, when it’s as strong as it is with Jake. It’s like one of them genius kids who starts bangin’ out songs on the piano without a lesson. They get it by the grace of God, but people treat ’em like they’re some kind of freaks. They got to take care with the gift, ma’am. I figure Jake learned that early on. You wouldn’t want him to go paradin’ the grace of God around like it was a prize at a turkey shoot, would you?”

Sam drew back against the car’s fender and eyed him nervously. Jake wouldn’t have left her alone with a lunatic. She’d humor Detective Doop if that was what it took to win his sympathy. “So you believe Jake’s … gift … is the reason he’s secretive?”

Warming to the discussion, Doop leaned his thick-set body against the car and nodded fervently. “You see, ma’am, I have the touch too. Oh, not like Jake has it. Just my good, solid hunches.” He sighed. “If I could do what he does—if I could figure people out—find ’em, know what they’re thinkin’, feel whether they was dead or alive—if I could do that just by handling a bit of something they’d worn—why, I’d probably have made captain by now.” He wagged a finger at her. “But I’d probably keep my ways to myself, just like Jake. Because regular people get edgy about things they don’t understand.”

Play along
. “I see your point.”

“Now, you being Jake’s wife, you believe in him and respect his gift, and you probably think everybody else should too. But it just don’t work that way, ma’am.”

Don’t chew your tongue off yet
. “Would you say he’s a bonafide psychic?”