Watch Me (27 page)

He stared down at the ring he’d given her. “I’m not
asking you to recite his history, Karen. I only want a reason.” He looked into her eyes and enunciated very carefully. “Just one reason explaining why he was here tonight.”

She released his arm and wiped her tears, his diamond sparkling as she moved. “The only thing he ever wanted from you was a little love and approval.”

“He came over here to tell you
that?”

“No, I—I called him to…to tell him about the wedding. I didn’t want him to think he’d have any less of a chance to…to have a relationship with you…because you were marrying me.”

“I don’t see the connection.” There wasn’t one, of course. She was speaking gibberish. What obligation did she feel toward Cain? Who gave a flying fuck what he thought about their marriage?

“Cain was my student, John.”

“The truth, Karen,” he chided. “We still haven’t reached the truth.”

“John, please. I don’t want to tell you!” she blurted. “Just trust me. Can you? Can you trust me, John?”

“No,” he said simply. Not when it was about Cain. He couldn’t trust anyone.

Shaking from her sobs, she put her arms around his neck, but he couldn’t respond. “Tell me.”

“You won’t understand. You… It’ll ruin what we have. Please, I’m begging you. Let it go! Let’s move away from Whiterock. Then you won’t have to see Cain. Neither of us will ever have to see him again.”

John had ice in his veins. Cold, sludgelike blood that was freezing up his heart, which seemed to be beating
very, very slowly…. “You slept with him,” he said. “You slept with my stepson.”

She froze, as if shocked by his statement.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You probably stood in line behind all the other women he’s been with to have your turn.” He got up because he couldn’t sit any more. “Was it tonight? How long has this been going on?”

“Nothing’s going on!” she cried.

Grabbing the thin fabric of her nightgown, he hauled her up onto her knees. “Don’t lie to me! Whatever you do, don’t you dare lie! I know you slept with him. I can see the guilt on your face!”

“But n-not tonight. N-not now.”

“When?” He dug his fingers into the flesh of her arms, demanding a response.

“A long time ago! It happened
once,
John. We—we haven’t been together in twelve years. It was a mistake. That’s all. I didn’t realize what I was doing. I was confused and Cain came in every day and sat at the back of my class—”

John grasped at fleeting hope. “Are you telling me it wasn’t your fault? That he forced you?”

As she stared up at him, the shine of her tears reflected the moonlight streaming in through the window.
Please say yes.
That was all he needed. Then he could blame Cain and Cain alone. Then he could take Karen and her testimony to the police and finally destroy the one person who’d been destroying him, inch by inch, for years.

But she wasn’t answering. “Did he rape you?” he shouted, shaking her hard.

Rattled by his rough treatment, she could barely talk. “N-no. It—it was my fault. I…I wanted him. I was confused—”

“You wanted him.” John let her go, and she fell back on the bed.

“It was a long time ago, John. It has no bearing on our current relationship. None at all. I’ve been over Cain for years.”

“You wanted him,” he said again. “He was sleeping with you while I was going crazy trying to get you just to go out with me.”

“It only happened
once
. That was before I knew you like I know you now. That was before I fell in love with you.”

He gaped at her. “But…don’t you understand? I’ll never be able to believe it’s really me you want. You’re settling. You’re settling for me because you know he’d never want you for more than a quick piece of ass. Especially when he could have someone really beautiful. Someone like Sheridan.”

She gulped at his words. He’d shocked her with the truth. Well, it was his turn, wasn’t it?

“John, l-let’s calm down before we say things we’ll regret,” she said, attempting to gain control of the situation. “I know you’re hurt and you want to be cruel. But listen to me. It was a mistake, nothing more.”

“Because you refused him afterward?” he asked softly.

He could sense how badly she wanted to say yes. He could also sense the decency in her warring with a desire to blame it all on Cain. “No,” she admitted.

“If it was up to you it would’ve continued.”

She didn’t respond.

“Answer me!”

“Probably.” She’d spoken so low he had to strain to hear her.

“That’s rich, isn’t it?” John laughed without mirth. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever really wanted, and now I find out you’re Cain’s sloppy seconds. What am I supposed to do about that? I certainly can’t marry you.”

She clutched at his shirt. “Forgive me, John. Please. I—I’ve wanted to tell you the truth for a long time. I’ve thought about it again and again.”

“That’s why you called Cain over here in the middle of the night? Because you wanted to tell me?”

“I didn’t call him over here.”

“He came on his own?”

“No, I—I called him earlier. I needed to talk, to discuss what we should do. And we decided it would be best not to tell. We knew it would only cause you pain and doubt for nothing.”

“We.”

“Not we, necessarily.
Me
. I didn’t know what to do, okay? What happened between Cain and me that one time was just a stupid mistake. Can’t you see that? It’s over. I love
you.
”

“You don’t love me!” He slapped her before he even knew he was going to do it. Her head whipped back with the force of the blow; then her jaw dropped and she stared at him, fingering the mark he’d left on her cheek.

“I hope you feel better,” she whispered.

He didn’t. Not in the least. He kept seeing her taking off her clothes for Cain, welcoming him into her body,
wrapping her legs around his hips and moaning, just as she did for him….

He had to get out of here. If he stayed, there was no telling what he might do.

The telephone woke Cain almost as soon as he fell asleep, but he immediately scrambled to get it. The shrill sound jangled his nerves, made him think immediately of Sheridan. He shouldn’t have left her. Had something happened?

“Hello?”

When he heard nothing, his heart jumped into his throat.

“Sheridan? Are you okay?”

There was some noise—like muffled crying—then a whispered, “It’s Karen.”

Cain glanced at his alarm clock. He’d only been home half an hour, just long enough to fall asleep. “What’s wrong?”

“He knows.”

John. The secret was out. Taking a deep breath, Cain dropped his head into his hand and massaged his temples. “How?”

“He saw you here tonight. N-nothing I said made any difference.”

Other than that small quaver in her voice, she sounded oddly subdued. “What happened?”

She sniffed. “Nothing more than I deserved. Anyway, it’s over between us.”

“You’ve had other fights. Maybe he’ll come around.” Cain didn’t really believe it. He’d known what this
would mean, to both of them. But he wanted to offer her some hope. She was obviously crushed.

“No. He has too many hang-ups about you. He’ll never be able to overcome them,” she said and disconnected.

S
heridan sat next to Skye in the last pew of the church she and her family had attended when they lived in Whiterock. The funeral service hadn’t even begun but already the building was packed to overflowing. The sensational way Amy died had sparked more interest than Sheridan had expected.

She glanced at the people crowded along the back wall.

“Looking for Cain?” Skye asked, interrupting her search.

That was exactly what Sheridan had been doing, but she didn’t want to admit it. “Just wishing I could stand up, too. It’d be easier to see everyone.”

“Why don’t you?”

“You have to ask?” Sheridan gestured at her shoes. “I’d never make it.” She hadn’t planned on attending anything formal in Whiterock, so she and Skye had had to purchase the clothes they were wearing. Skye had chosen a simple black skirt, white cuffed shirt and black vest; Sheridan had bought a black sheath dress, as well as a strand of fake pearls and strappy shoes. The shoes were far too high to be comfortable for long, but she’d done the best she could with what she’d had to choose
from. She was pretty sure Petra, the woman who owned the small boutique in town, had been a prostitute in an earlier life. To her, simple and elegant meant drab. It was all Sheridan could do to get out of the shop without fishnet stockings. “You need…something,” Petra had said, frowning at her ensemble.

“So…do you see anything unusual?” Skye asked now.

“Not particularly.”

“Tell me who everyone is. The only person I’m sure I know the identity of is the poor woman lying in the casket.”

Sheridan tried not to point as she indicated Ned in the front row. “That’s Amy’s brother. His wife and kids are on his left. His mother is on his right.”

“Who’s the guy on the platform who keeps looking over at the casket?”

“The one in the tweed jacket and blue tie? That’s Cain’s stepfather, John Wyatt. You know Tiger, and Pastor Wayne greeted us on the way in.”

“I remember. He’s the one who said he has an extra bedroom for you if you need it.”

Sheridan rolled her eyes. “You gotta love my parents.”

Skye laughed. “Aren’t you glad I showed up at Cain’s house instead of them?”

Sheridan nudged her. “Do you have to keep bringing it up?”

“That’s what friends do. I’ll be teasing you about it for the rest of your life.”

“Good to know.”

“Cain’s stepfather is quite distinguished-looking, isn’t he?”

“I guess. I like the silver at his temples.”

“How old is he?”

“Fifty-four or so. The woman he’s marrying is quite a bit younger.”

“Your former English teacher?”

“That’s right.”

“Where is she?”

Sheridan couldn’t find Karen Stevens. “I don’t know. But she’s attractive, too.”

They lapsed into silence as they waited for the service to start. The door opened and closed several times, but Cain didn’t come in. Sheridan picked Owen and his wife out of the crowd. Marshall was with him, and Robert sat in the same pew, looking sloppy despite his tie, which wasn’t long enough to reach over his bulging stomach. The police officer who’d questioned her that day in the station was just across the aisle from her, and she recognized several other people, most of whom she hadn’t seen in more than a decade. Many of them smiled or waved, but the atmosphere was as subdued as a funeral should be.

“This is just tragic,” the older lady on her right murmured to the man sitting next to her. “What’s the world coming to?”

“It’s really getting hot in here,” Skye grumbled over whatever the man said in response. “Are they ever going to start? At this rate, I’ll miss my plane.”

Sheridan’s eyes skimmed over the flower arrangements as a lady at the piano played another hymn. “You don’t fly out for three hours.”

“Exactly.”

Fifteen minutes later, the scent of carnations had be
come so oppressive Sheridan could think only of Jason’s funeral. She’d smelled the same scent there. Five minutes after that, most people were using their programs as fans, but at least the service was getting underway. His features arranged in an appropriately pained expression, Pastor Wayne adjusted the microphone at the podium as he waited for the crowd to quiet down.

The moment he’d finished praying, the door opened again, and Sheridan knew before she even looked that it was Cain. She heard the rumble of voices, could tell plenty of folks had been speculating on whether or not he’d have the nerve to show up.

Sheridan glared at the people who turned to stare at him, but he seemed impervious to their attention. No doubt he’d expected it. She’d heard Ned spouting off about Cain when she and Skye walked in, saying Cain had better watch out because Ned was going to see him in prison someday.

That kind of tough talk made Ned feel as if he was doing something about his sister’s death, but it merely proved to Sheridan that he had no viable leads. Otherwise, he would’ve had something more constructive to say.

She wondered what Ned would think when Cain told him that Tiger had driven past her place three times the night she was attacked. Tiger was probably the only one who knew where to find Amy the night she was shot—because he’d followed her there before. And he had reason to be angry about Sheridan’s being with Jason twelve years ago. In Sheridan’s opinion, he was as likely a suspect as anyone.

Cain moved to the far corner of the building instead
of trying to find a seat, but if he’d hoped to blend in, he hadn’t succeeded. He was several inches taller than most of the other men and far more attractive. He wore black dress pants and shoes, along with a black tie and a crisp white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. And unlike the rest of them he hadn’t been cloistered in the church long enough to start sweating. Sheridan couldn’t help thinking how pleased Amy would be that he’d dressed up just for her.

Maybe he wasn’t the type to marry and settle down, but he was a good man, Sheridan thought. Regardless of their history, she hoped they could be friends—

She caught Skye watching her with a quizzical expression. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I think he’s handsome, too.”

Considering how passionate Skye felt about her husband, that was quite an admission.

Sheridan didn’t respond because Pastor Wayne was talking about how terrible it was to lay Amy to rest at such a young age. A few people around her were already sniffling, and Ned had broken down again. His wife put her arm around his shoulders to console him. Then it was Cain’s stepfather’s turn to talk.

“I lost my son twelve years ago. And now I’ve lost a daughter,” he began. “Amy was sweet and unselfish and made Whiterock a better place for having lived here. The most difficult part of this for me, for all of us, is the one question no one can answer at this point. Why?”

When he choked up, Sheridan felt a lump in her own throat. Everyone was taking it so hard.

“He seems like a nice guy,” Skye murmured. “Why don’t he and Cain get along?”

That was something Sheridan had asked herself many times. “I’d say he blames Cain for Jason’s death,” she whispered back, “but whatever the problem, it started long before that.”

Sheridan noticed Tiger staring at her. His face was puffy, but he wasn’t crying, like almost everyone else. He sat there stoically, looking uncomfortable in a new suit that was a bit too tight, waiting his turn.

When Cain’s stepfather finished, Tiger got up and said, “I loved Amy and I’m going to miss her. Probably more than anyone. But the only person she ever truly loved was Cain Granger.”

This bald admission was hardly the “life portrait” anyone had expected to hear. Or maybe it was
too
true to life. Most of the congregation began to murmur and twist in their seats to see Cain’s reaction.

Cain remained where he was, eyes glittering with determination as he withstood their scrutiny.

Then Tiger went on. “Maybe he got sick of her and shot her. I don’t know anything about that. But I know she had no business being where she was that night. And I can tell you that he didn’t kill Jason.”

The movement and noise grew so loud, Tiger held up a hand so he could be heard. “She told me on a number of occasions that he didn’t do it, that he’d never do such a thing. And I believe she knew him better than anyone, especially back then.”

Ned was on his feet. “This isn’t a testimonial for Cain! This is my sister’s funeral, for God’s sake.”

“That’s why I said what I did,” Tiger told him. “I know she’d want her true thoughts on the matter to come out at last.”

With that, he sat down and Skye leaned close. “I don’t care whether he drove by the house fifty times that night. It’s not Tiger,” she said.

Sheridan finally let go of the breath she’d been holding. “I know.”

Ignoring all the speculation in the church around him, Cain’s eyes sought his stepfather’s. Surely after what Tiger had just said, he’d
have
to believe Cain was innocent. But it didn’t matter. John had something else to blame him for.

He knows….
Karen’s words from last night came back to Cain. At least he was actually guilty of what John held against him now.

Turning his back on the whole congregation, Cain stalked out, hanging his tie on a tree branch as he wound his way down the path to the parking lot. He didn’t need John Wyatt, or Owen or Robert or Marshall. He didn’t need anyone. Even Sheridan.

Especially Sheridan, he decided. She threatened him on a level no one else could.

Karen stared at herself in the mirror. She hated missing Amy’s funeral. But she couldn’t go looking like this. John had hit her hard enough to bruise her cheek, and her eyes were red and swollen. Everyone she saw would want to know what was wrong. And the mere question would make her cry. That was why she
couldn’t go to school, either. She’d taken a personal day just to sit at home.

Using the last of her tissues, she blew her nose for the umpteenth time and turned away from her blotchy reflection. What was going to happen next? She was afraid to find out. She wanted to believe that John would come to his senses and forgive her, but deep down she knew he wouldn’t. Her confession had severed the bond they’d formed. She’d seen a side of him she hadn’t known existed and no longer felt sure he was the man she’d thought he was. Even if they managed to patch things up, it couldn’t last. Cain made him too crazy. John would watch every nuance between them, read far more into their relationship than was there. And he’d use her past sins against her every time he got angry. What he knew would eat at him until the contempt she’d witnessed last night rose to the surface again.

She couldn’t expect them to pick up where they’d left off. But she had to at least try to talk him out of ruining her reputation. After so many years, she doubted any D.A. would prosecute her. But if John told anyone, she wouldn’t be able to hold her head up in Whiterock. The school board wouldn’t allow her to continue teaching. And once the word was out, she suspected she’d never get a job in any other school system, either.

The clock said it was almost two; John should be back from the funeral. Grabbing her purse, she wiped her face one last time and headed out.

As impatient as Sheridan had been with Skye’s reaction to Cain, it wasn’t easy to let her friend leave.

“You’re going to be okay in Whiterock without me, right?” Skye said as Sheridan helped unload her bags.

“Of course,” Sheridan said. But she wasn’t so sure. She’d driven separately so Skye could return her rental car to the airport, which meant she still had her own car for transportation. They’d found a cell phone store along the way so she had a new charger. She also had the gun Skye had insisted she keep, still tucked under the cushion of her couch. Even better, she was stronger and wiser.

And yet she had plenty of misgivings. Was she foolish for staying? Did she really believe she could solve a crime with no real leads?

“Sheridan?” Skye angled her head to look into her face.

Sheridan blinked. “What?”

“Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are, I’ll gladly return to Whiterock and help you pack.”

“I am having second thoughts,” she admitted. “But…I don’t think I can walk away from what’s happened. As soon as I get home, I’ll only want to come back. Maybe it’d be different if I had some confidence in Ned and his force, but…”

“But Tweedledee is dead and now you’ve just got Tweedledum.”

“Skye!”

She raised a hand. “I know, I’m sorry. It was disrespectful. I’m just saying Whiterock doesn’t have much of a police force.”

“It used to be that they didn’t have much crime, either. I want to see my hometown safe again. I want to put whoever attacked me, and killed Jason and Amy, behind bars.”

Skye hefted her purse higher on her shoulder. “I can’t promise you won’t see Jonathan. As soon as he’s finished with the case he’s working on, I’m sure he’ll come out here.”

“He’s a damn good investigator. I could use his help if he’s interested.”

“We’re all interested. Just busy.”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can. And I guess now’s the time. I’ve watched you kick yourself for too many years over what happened to Jason not to realize how important this is to you. But, jeez, Sher—”

“I know. Be careful.”

“Be more than careful.”

“I got rid of that weird flasher guy who was stalking me last year, didn’t I?”

Skye’s eyebrows shot up. “The guy broke into your house, and you hit him with a can of chili because you wouldn’t use your gun. Are you sure you want to use
that
incident to bolster my confidence?”

“That can of chili really hurt! You should’ve seen the bruise. Besides, he was more odd than dangerous. He wasn’t trying to kill me.”

“Just don’t forget that this guy’s playing for keeps.”

The eyes that’d stared at her so intently as she struggled to free those strong hands from her throat flashed in Sheridan’s mind and sent a shiver down her spine. “I won’t.”

“So use your gun this time.”

“Okay. You’ve got to hurry,” Sheridan reminded her. “You’re going to miss your plane.”