Skin Heat (29 page)

When Julie came back, he was still standing by her desk. “Why are you quitting if they haven’t approached you?”

“Never mind that,” he said. “Tell me what’s up.”

Julie checked the exam room door to make sure it was closed, and then came back, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Just what I said. The last guy who had your job told me he was offered a thousand bucks to quit. So I went and asked the one before him. Same thing.”

“Who? Why?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. They received the offer by e-mail, the first part as a money order in the mail, and the second payment once they left Paws and Claws. It’s crazy, right?”

“Does she know?”

“No! And I’ll kick your ass if you tell her. She has enough problems right now.”

“Don’t think it might help?” Julie knew Neva. But Zeke had to wonder if it would make her feel better, knowing they hadn’t left because her clinic was terrible, cursed, or she was just a bad boss.

“I’m afraid she’d start digging,” Julie said quietly. “And discover her parents were behind it. See, they’re patching up their differences now. Her dad is dying.” She misread his expression, seeing confusion instead of the stunning pain he felt. “Cancer. Since nobody has tried to bribe you—and they just made up—the pieces seem to fit. So I don’t want her hurt more. They love her. They just don’t understand her. I’m sure they don’t realize how much damage they did with their good intentions. They thought if she couldn’t keep help, she’d give up and come home. Instead it just made her work harder.”

He got it now. At that fucking party, she’d just learned her dad had a fatal illness. Ben, the bastard, had been on hand to comfort her. He hadn’t. Never mind that he should’ve been; it was a wonder she’d wanted to talk to him at all, afterward. Zeke felt like slime on the bottom of a river rock.

“Won’t tell her then.”

Julie’s face softened. “Good. I know you care about her, too.”

There was no point in denying it. But he shrugged. “Think they were behind the break-in, the vandalism, and the fire?”

“Hope not. That’s a lot worse than bribing staff, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Criminal, even.”

Neva’s friend was persistent and didn’t let his change of subject stick. “Look, I don’t know what went wrong between you guys, but I hope you make up. With you, she was happier than she’d been for a while.” She glanced at the time. “Crap, Travis is expecting me to be home by now. I’m sorry you won’t be coming for the next movie night.”

While he looked on, she grabbed her things and hurried out, glowing with eagerness. Had Neva ever looked like that about him? Maybe they hadn’t been together long enough for it to ripen into what it could be. Still, he thought he’d done the right thing, even if he felt like he was dying by degrees. Food didn’t even taste the same, and his house ached with emptiness.

Because his job was done, he left the clinic. But he didn’t go home. Instead he went over to the sandwich shop and ordered a soda. The girl behind the counter made eyes at him as she filled the paper cup; he couldn’t help but notice she had clumps of black goo caked on her lashes. It made his own eyes water in reaction. Ignoring her, he took a seat facing the window so he could make sure she got off okay. Knowing her, she would stay stupid late and walk out alone in the dark, long after everyone else disappeared. Only Armando’s was open as late, and the clerk paid no attention to the parking lot. Right now, she had on a tiny music player and was dancing to some thumping music. He had some idea he ought to find her swiveling hips and gunky eyes sexy. God help him.

At ten minutes to eight, Neva came out of the clinic. He heard her lock up, several shops away, but didn’t see her until she started walking toward her car. The animal part of him wanted to run to meet her and to apologize. Beg on his knees if need be. He wanted her safe and close, and the rest didn’t matter.

Only it did.

His truck was parked at the farm; he had run to work today, so he couldn’t follow her to make sure she got home okay. And he wouldn’t, even if he could. Some lines you didn’t cross, or it would drive you crazy, yearning after the impossible.

All he could do was watch her drive away.

 

On the way
home from the clinic, Neva drove by a stalled vehicle. As she passed, a man climbed out of the driver’s side. He was tall and lanky, and he signaled her, miming a request to use her phone. She slowed, but warning bells went off in her head, and she remembered Luke’s abandoned vehicle. Caution kicked in; instead of stopping, she called Tim Sweeney. Since the Honda was somewhat unreliable, she had him on speed dial.

“There’s a guy who needs a tow.” She gave the location and mile marker.

“Thanks, hon,” Tim said cheerfully. “It’s coming up on the holiday season, so I can use the money. I’ll go help him out.”

When she got home, she was understandably nervous. Her mother had talked her into letting her care for the kittens while she was at work. Lillian had said, “Trust me with them. I promise you I can help. And I need something to keep me busy.”

She’d replied, “You understand they’re messy and—”

“I know. Just like all babies. I can do this for you, darling. Let me.” It was the ultimate olive branch, and she had been unable to refuse.

So she had taught her what needed doing and how often to care for them. She’d told Lillian they needed to be held as much as possible. It would be the last straw if her mother hadn’t done a good job, had forgotten them or fobbed them off on the staff.
She promised
—

But when Neva came into the lavish sitting room, decorated in blue and silver striped wallpaper, she found her mother cuddling all three kittens. She had fur and formula on her sweater . . . and she looked remarkably happy about it. A knot dissolved inside her. She remembered a time when Lillian hadn’t been so rigid, and it appeared her mother did, too. The chasm between them wasn’t unbridgeable.

“They’re fine. See?” Lillian held the orange one up. “She’s so lively!”

“Yes, they’ll be ready to start exploring a bit soon. But you’ll need to keep an eye on them. They could easily get lost in a house this size.”

Her mother seemed thoughtful. “What about a playpen? One of the new ones with the netting? I looked at your old one up in the attic but it has wooden bars. They’d slip right out.”

Astonishment dawned. “That would be perfect. You could put a few soft toys in there for them. More space for them to play, but not enough for them to get lost or feel frightened.”

“They need to be in their box at night, of course. I’m sure they’re used to it.” Lillian stood, all three babies cradled in one arm. “I’ll send the housekeeper out. Would you make a list of what toys would be suitable for them?”

Tears prickled at her eyes. Ridiculous—she hadn’t cried in years—and now that she’d started, she couldn’t seem to stop. It meant so much, maybe more than it should, to see her mother taking an interest in what she loved, even if it was just three orphaned kittens. Before she could embarrass herself, her phone rang. Neva glanced at the screen and was surprised to identify the caller as Tim Sweeney.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Are you sure of the directions you gave me?”

She frowned. “Absolutely. There’s only one route to Harper Court from the clinic. I was on Harper Road.” Embarrassing, but the street had been named for her great-grandfather because he brought money in when the town needed it most, during the Great Depression.

“Well, when I got there, I didn’t see any stalled vehicle. Just an oil stain.”

“Maybe he got the car moving again?”

“I guess. Next time I’ll just wait for the customer to call me.”

“I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

When she hit end, she looked up to find her mother watching her. “What was that about?”

Neva summarized, feeling uneasy for no reason she could name. She remembered the shadow out at the farm and the glint of light on what might have been binoculars. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms didn’t banish the chill.

And then Lillian put a finger on it. “If his car wasn’t really broken down, and you’d stopped . . . oh honey. I’m so glad you were careful.”

It was a predatory trick. Unease flared, leaving her shaken. “I just had a feeling. You know, those instincts Ben always makes fun of?”

“And thank God for it. Do you think we ought to call Cliff?”

Ordinarily she would dismiss it. But they had found a dead girl in a trunk. Maybe that woman had stopped to help and wound up killed for her kindness. Maybe the same thing had happened to Luke. There were so many places to dump a body around here. Acknowledging the possibility hurt, almost more than she could bear.

“Yes,” she said through numb lips. “I think maybe we should tell him. If it’s nothing, then he can decide it is.”

Lillian nodded and took Neva’s phone. She had the sheriff’s personal number memorized, probably because she arranged his golf meetings with Conrad. “Cliff, it’s Lilly. Could you come out to the house? I’m sorry for the short notice. You can stay for dinner if you like.” A rumbled affirmative came in answer. She hung up and said, “Good. He’ll be here in about half an hour. Do you want to go change? I’m fine with them.”

For once, Neva didn’t take offense to the suggestion. She did smell like she had been working with animals all day. Since her mother wasn’t precisely pristine, either, the question lacked teeth. It was a considerate offer, nothing more.

“Yes, I think it’ll bolster me before talking to Cliff.”

“Go on then, darling.”

On impulse she dropped a kiss on her mother’s cheek as she went by. The sudden mist in Lillian’s eyes ratified the decision as a good one. Neva took the stairs at a slow jog, nodding at a maid or two as she went by. In their black-and-white uniforms, they were neater and better dressed than she. But it didn’t matter.

She washed up quickly and changed into a pair of jeans and a red sweater. By the time she got back downstairs, the sheriff had arrived. As she approached, she heard him making small talk with her mother.

“I’d name that one Garfield, I surely would.”

Lillian smiled at him and shook her head. “It’s a girl, Cliff.”

“Oh. Then maybe not.”

“Ah, here’s Geneva.” Her mother didn’t get up, understandably, as she still had kittens all over her lap.

If I could just get her to call me Neva, things would be perfect.
But she was happy with the middle ground they’d found. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard the argument before:
I called you Geneva because it’s a beautiful name. If I had wanted to shorten it, I’d have done so on your birth certificate.
No bitterness attached to the memory this time, though.

Cliff strode over and shook her hand firmly. Some men got old and dumpy, but Sheriff Raleigh really did look good for his age. “Your mother says you have something to tell me?”

“It may be nothing, but . . .” She filled him in on what had happened with the not-stalled car.

He wore a frown by the time she finished. “People do use it as a ruse. Sometimes they rob or rape the person who stops, but I’ve also read about killers who use it as a method to lure victims.”

She stilled, hardly daring to breathe. “Do you think we have someone working the highways and county roads around here?”

“I’d love to tell you no because the very idea it might be happening on my watch offends me. But the truth is, there’s a lot of pavement out there and a lot of psychos. It’s . . . possible.” The sheriff studied her for a moment. “The girl we found at the clinic, she looked a little like you.”

Lillian drew in a sharp breath. “Are you suggesting—”

“I’m not saying anything. But maybe I should get the word out that brown-haired, brown-eyed girls should be careful. That’s all.” He turned to Neva. “Can you tell me anything about the car?”

Crap.
At the time, she hadn’t known it mattered—and it had been dark.
If Zeke was with me, he could say. He has better night vision.
But if Zeke had been with her, they wouldn’t have driven that route at all. They’d have gone to the farm instead.

“Chevy. Light colored, late model. That probably doesn’t help a whole lot.”

Raleigh just nodded his thanks. “Anything about the man?”

“He was tall, at least six feet, I’d say. Rangy build. Red hat.” Of that, she felt sure. When he’d stepped in front of the headlights, signaling her, she’d noted the ball cap in the rear-view mirror.

The sheriff pushed to his feet. “I don’t feel able to say whether this means anything or not. I’ll get on the phone and give this information to the ABI agent. He’s the one handling the murder investigation. If you’ll excuse me a minute?”

Raleigh went out into the hall for privacy, but Neva could still hear him in the silence of the house. The quiet used to weigh on her like a smothering hand. Now she was just happy to be home.

“Agent Hebert,” she heard Cliff say. “This is Sheriff Raleigh. We met when you were in Harper Creek?” A pause. “I’m not sure if this signifies, but I figured you should know.” He told Neva’s story, almost word for word. When he came back, he seemed unsettled. “He said we should keep an eye out for the car, just in case.”

“Anything else?” Lillian asked.

“He’s coming to talk to Neva tomorrow.” Raleigh faced her then, instead of her mother. “Will you be at the clinic?”

She gave a tense nod. “Usual business hours. If he comes later, I’ll be here.”

He nodded. “That’s what I told him. Just . . . take care. I don’t like the way this feels, and your dad would have my . . .” Raleigh swallowed the coarser word, no doubt in deference to their ladylike sensibilities. Neva stifled a snort. “Er, backside if anything happened to you.”

“I’d do what now?” Conrad Harper stood in the doorway of the sitting room, surveying them with equal parts puzzlement and alarm.