Watch Me (28 page)

“Right.” Skye hugged her goodbye and started off, then turned back. “What am I doing? I should be staying here. You can’t shoot anybody.”

An old man who was passing by stopped to look at them.

“She’s talking about pictures,” Sheridan explained. “I’m a photographer.”

Shaking his head, he gave them both a wide berth.

“You have children at home, Skye,” she went on. “They need you.”

“But I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to you.”

“We take these kinds of risks every day. It’s our job. It’s nothing new. Like you said, Jonathan will come when he can.”

An announcement telling travelers to keep their luggage with them at all times came over the PA system. Skye waited through it, still undecided, until Sheridan gave her a little shove. “Go! I’ll be home in a couple of weeks, probably before Jon can even finish with his case.” She knew that was optimistic, but it was all she could say to reassure Skye.

“I really hope I don’t regret this.” With a final hug, Skye wheeled her luggage into the terminal. And then she disappeared into the crowd.

“Tell me I’m not crazy,” Sheridan muttered as she got back into the car.

Cain hadn’t spent much time working since Sheridan’s attack, but he wasn’t worried about losing his job. He had more vacation days accrued than he’d ever
need. And as long as he checked the campgrounds and turned in his reports, he’d be fine. There was no one looking over his shoulder; he’d been part of the agency too long for that. His boss knew he could be trusted to care for this land as if it was his own.

It felt good to be back in the forest. This was where he belonged, where he felt the most clarity and freedom. He wasn’t sure how he’d let himself get so caught up in the no-win issues involving his stepfather and Amy and Ned. He’d learned at a young age to avoid such emotional entanglements. But that damn rifle had drawn him in. Amy could’ve stood by him; she’d known all along that he wasn’t the one who’d shot Jason. Instead, she’d let him wriggle on the hook, which didn’t really surprise him. It was her own brand of punishment. But he thought it was generous of Tiger to come forward with her real opinion, and to pick a public forum to do it. No one could question Amy’s opinion on this because half the town had heard what Tiger said.

Including Sheridan.

Briefly Cain allowed himself to imagine her in that black dress she’d worn with her hair up. She’d looked far too refined for a hick town like Whiterock. He pictured her in a more intimate setting, closing her eyes and parting her lips as he buried himself inside her and, even now, felt himself go hard. She’d always been a distraction, the only girl who was out of reach, the only girl he shouldn’t touch.

And yet he had touched her. And that made him crave her all over again.

Koda barked at a squirrel and Quixote and Maximil
lian gave chase. Cain didn’t bother calling them back. They weren’t going to catch it. It skittered up a tree, clung to a branch and chattered at them as if mocking their attempt while Cain stopped to look inside his pack. Before he left the cabin, he’d taken his heavy-duty flashlight off its charger—but had he actually put it in with his supplies?

He hoped so. It wasn’t dark yet, but he was planning to check the backpacker campsite several miles into the forest, which meant he’d probably spend the night out here. He did that occasionally, especially in summer. There was a lake not far away, and he figured he’d sleep there. With Skye in town, it wasn’t as though he needed to worry about Sheridan. There was nothing he could do for her from his cabin, anyway.

Sure enough, the flashlight was right next to the plastic tarp he’d rolled up to put under his sleeping bag.

Perfect. Reclaiming the rifle he’d set on the ground, he whistled for his hounds, stepped over a fallen log and hiked farther up the mountain.

J
ohn wasn’t home. Karen had no idea where he might be. The truck Robert had been using since the accident was parked in the drive, so she knew the funeral was over.

She grimaced as she thought of Robert sitting in his trailer. Was he the one leaving those notes on her doorstep? She considered confronting him. If he hadn’t been harassing her, she and John would still be engaged. Her life wouldn’t have changed so drastically in a matter of twenty-four hours. But she couldn’t go after him. She still had too much to lose. That was why she’d come, why she was growing more frantic by the second.

Would it be too late by the time she talked to John? How many people had he already told? He loved complaining about Cain, loved to paint Cain as the evil stepson, with himself as the long-suffering parent. Would he exploit her secret to serve his ego, even though it would ruin her in the process? She never would’ve expected such behavior, but she wasn’t sure she really knew him anymore.

As she waited in her car at the curb, she bit the cuticles on her left hand. It was an old habit, one she’d managed to break—until now. But she was so nervous
she couldn’t stop herself. She had to reach him, needed some type of assurance that she wasn’t going to become a pariah in Whiterock.

Don Lyons, John’s next-door neighbor, drove down the street and waved at her before turning in to his drive. When he got out of the car, she could tell from his formal attire that he’d probably been at the funeral.

She averted her gaze, hoping he’d go into his house and leave her alone. But he didn’t. He walked over and rapped on the window.

Cursing silently to herself, Karen rolled it down and looked up at him. “Hi, Don.”

“Hi, there.” He was smiling but did a double take when he saw her cheek. “Oh, wow, what happened?”

“I walked into a door, can you believe it?” She knew it was a lame excuse, one battered women used all the time, but she also knew he’d never suspect the reality.

“Jeez, that must’ve hurt.”

“It did.”

His thin strands of gray hair, which he combed over a mostly bald dome, glistened in the sunlight. “We missed you at the funeral today.”

“I haven’t been feeling well. My, um, accident’s given me a pretty bad headache.”

“No surprise there. I’m sorry about that.” He bent closer, seemed to take particular note of her red, watery eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” If she could just convince John to keep what he knew to himself. “How was the service?” she asked, changing the subject.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of suit pants that
had to be as old as his divorce, which had happened around the time Cain’s mother had died, and rocked up onto the balls of his feet. “I think we gave her a good sendoff. Amy would’ve been proud to have such a showing.”

“Have you seen John?”

“Not since he spoke at the service. Boy, did he do a great job.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

He straightened his tie. “She was like a daughter to him.”

“He’s mentioned that.”

Another neighbor came down the street in a Prius and waved, and Karen decided to get out of her Mustang. She couldn’t sit in front of John’s house, chatting with his neighbors. She’d skipped the funeral because she didn’t want to be seen.

“I think I’d better wait inside. I’m feeling a little light-headed.” She was pretty sure Don had been in the middle of telling her about something Tiger had said when she piped up with that random comment. But she was too preoccupied to feign interest. She longed to go where it was quiet and dark and she could be alone with her worries.

“Can I get you an aspirin?” he asked. “A glass of water?”

“No, thanks. I’ll talk to you later,” she muttered and left him standing on the lawn, staring after her.

Letting herself into John’s house with the key he’d given her months ago, she breathed a sigh of relief once the door was closed. But only a moment later her throat grew tight and she began to cry again. This place was so
familiar to her. Although they’d spent more time at her house, she’d expected to move in with John someday….

She stood at the piano and studied the array of pictures he had displayed there. Mostly, they were of the kids when they were young. Jason in his football uniform. Jason in his soccer uniform. Jason in the old car he’d bought with the proceeds of his after-school job. Jason grinning as a six-year-old boy, missing his two front teeth. There was one small photo of Owen when he’d graduated from med school, one of Robert at a science fair, and one of her and John at a restaurant. But there wasn’t a single photo of Cain or his mother—which was a bit ironic, considering the piano had belonged to Julia.

“I bet you hated having to leave your son,” she murmured and set the ring John had given her right beside Jason’s picture.

From there, she rambled through the house, looking for ways to distract herself from the gut-wrenching worry—until she saw Robert through the side windows. She suspected he was coming around the house to the front door, so she ducked into the garage. She didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to have to explain the large bruise on her cheek or admit that her relationship with John was over. Robert would be all too happy to think he’d achieved his goal; she couldn’t deal with that in addition to everything else.

“Karen?” He called her name from somewhere close to the garage door. Then he moved farther away. “Karen?”

Her car was out front. Had he spotted it as he came onto the porch? It didn’t matter. If he didn’t find her,
he’d have to assume she’d merely parked it there and left with John or someone else, wouldn’t he?

It sounded plausible to her. But he seemed so darn determined to continue looking for her.

“Karen? I know you’re here.” He was just on the other side of the door again. “Where are you?”

She slipped into John’s little workroom as the door handle began to turn. Then the light went on. “Karen?”

She held her breath. She definitely didn’t want him to catch her now. He’d know she’d been hiding from him.

Closing her eyes, she said a quick prayer that he’d go away, and a few seconds later he went back inside.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she sat on John’s workbench and stared at the mess. John wasn’t the type to do any major cleaning. He kept the main rooms of his house devoid of clutter by tossing everything he didn’t want around into the garage, which was so full of junk he couldn’t fit a car inside. He also used the back bedroom as a storeroom. It was a miracle he could find
anything
when he needed it, she thought as she eyed the vast assortment of boxes and tools, extension cords, holiday decorations that probably hadn’t been used since Julia died, car-cleaning supplies and—

Her eyes returned to a shovel propped against the wall in the corner. Most of the gardening tools were piled next to the side door, where John tossed them when he finished the yard each week. But finding a shovel here wouldn’t have been odd in and of itself. What drew her attention was the handle. It appeared to be covered by a dark substance that looked an awful lot like…
blood?

Curious, and more than a little surprised, Karen ma
neuvered through all the junk littering the floor in order to get a closer look. But she stopped before she reached it. There, sticking out behind some shelves not far from the shovel, was a black ski mask.

Without Skye’s reassuring presence, Sheridan knew it was going to be too difficult to go back to her uncle’s house. Just thinking of being alone there reminded her of the way the floor had creaked right before she’d turned to see a man wearing a ski mask standing in her kitchen. Obviously, she’d been unrealistic when she’d told Skye she wouldn’t move. Gun or no gun, she’d already changed her mind.

But where was she going to go? To Cain’s? Or to a motel?

She knew which place she preferred, but she wasn’t at all sure Cain would be pleased to see her. He’d left the funeral early, and she and everyone else had seen his tie hanging on a tree as they came out of the church. She didn’t know what that signified, but she had a feeling it wasn’t good.

Her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her purse, then glanced at the LED screen, frowning when she saw it was her parents. They’d definitely have an opinion on where she should stay….

Using the hands-free device she’d bought when she purchased her new charger, she punched the Talk button. “Hello?”

“There you are,” her mother said. “Where’ve you been?”

“What do you mean?” It wasn’t as if she hadn’t kept
in touch. She’d called her family twice in the past three days, just to let them know she was safe.

“We’ve been trying to reach you all day. Your sister just had her baby.”

“That’s wonderful! How’s the new mom?”

“Great. She was only in labor for eight hours. And you should see little Evangeline. She’s so beautiful.”

“How much does she weigh?”

“Nine pounds—can you believe it?”

“That’s a big baby.”

“They should’ve induced a week ago. I tried to tell her doctor, but he refused to listen to me.”

Sheridan wanted to get her mother off that particular tangent. “But the baby’s healthy?”

“Perfect. She’s got a head of dark hair, just like you did when you were born.”

Sheridan felt a twinge of envy. At twenty-four, her sister was married and already had a baby. And here she was at twenty-eight, fighting rapists and murderers—hardly conducive to family life.

“I’m thrilled for Leanne. How did Kyle handle the whole coaching experience?”

“He turned green and nearly passed out when they asked him to cut the umbilical cord. So I got to do it,” her mother said proudly.

“Good for you!”

“How are things in Whiterock?”

Since her day had been spent attending a funeral and putting her best friend on a plane, Sheridan thought things could be better. But she didn’t want to ruin her mother’s excitement. “Fine,” she said quickly.

“Do you have any leads on the man who attacked you?”

“A few,” she hedged.

“You’re not staying with that Cain Granger, are you?”

That
Cain Granger? The way her mother referred to Cain irritated her, but she preferred to avoid an argument. And because she hadn’t decided what she was going to do, Sheridan told her mother what she wanted to hear. “No.”

“That’s good. Because an old friend called just before I left for the hospital this morning and had the nerve to imply you’re sexually involved with Cain—and that you were when you were younger, too. Can you believe it? I told her she must have you mixed up with someone else.”

Sheridan caught her breath, wondering how to respond. Fortunately, she didn’t have to. Her parents were still basking in the afterglow of their first grandchild’s birth. Someone said something in the background, which distracted her mother. Then her father came on the phone.

“How’s my girl?” he asked.

“Hanging in there. You?”

“We’ve had a bit of excitement today.”

“That’s what I hear. How are the in-laws behaving?”

He lowered his voice. “Leanne is ready to strangle Kyle’s mother. But his dad’s okay.”

“What’s wrong with his mother?”

“She’s a bit…overpowering.”

“In what way?”

“She’s rearranged the furniture twice. All the comfortable chairs are in the living room now, where you can’t see the TV. And she reorganized the cupboards. Leanne can’t find a damn thing.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Marriage is a give-and-take,” he said with a sigh and Sheridan smiled because she knew he was thinking of his own mother-in-law.

“Give Leanne my love.”

“You’re coming here soon, aren’t you?”

“As soon as I can.”

“I’ll tell her,” he said.

Sheridan was still smiling when she hung up, but she sobered as soon as she spotted the turnoff to Cain’s place. What was she going to do?

She told herself to drive right by and get a room at the motel. But she slowed and put on her blinker anyway.

Karen couldn’t have said how long she stood there, staring at the ski mask. She was trying to convince herself it was merely a coincidence that she’d found this…this thing in John’s workroom. But she couldn’t. Her mind was throwing up questions—questions she was almost afraid to answer. Where was he the night of Sheridan’s attack? Were they together?

Now that she took the time to think about it, she remembered him telling her he had to work late. She’d stopped by to bring him a coffee and discovered his station wagon parked out front. But he wasn’t around. When she’d mentioned her visit the following morning, he’d told her he’d gone for a walk. Then he’d launched into all the other stuff that’d happened later, with Robert crashing into the garden shed and Owen coming over to check out Robert’s injuries.

She picked up the mask, noticed some dots of reddish
black, now dried and crusty, around the cutouts for the eyes, nose and mouth and immediately dropped it. Blood spatter?

Her stomach churned as she looked at the shovel. What did these things mean? Sheridan had been beaten by a man who’d started to dig her grave, a man wearing a ski mask. But that man
couldn’t
have been John.

Could it? What reason would John have for hurting anyone, especially Sheridan? Logic suggested she’d been attacked to keep her from sharing anything she might’ve remembered about Jason’s murder. That was what the police believed. There’d been a story about it in the paper. But John was convinced he knew who’d killed Jason, and he definitely wanted Cain to be caught. Sometimes it was all he talked about.

Did he want it badly enough to frame him? That had to be it. John would never have hurt Jason himself. He’d worshipped that boy. So the two incidents were connected but not as directly as everyone thought.

Still…angry as John was with Cain, much as he might want revenge, he wasn’t a violent man.

Or was he? She touched her cheek, and the memory of John’s rage caused goose bumps to rise on her arms. He’d wanted to hit her again. She’d seen it in his eyes—

A car pulled into the drive. Karen could hear the engine, then the slamming of the door. Was it him? Who else could it be? Robert was already home.