Cornered in Conard County Read online

He smiled. “Good, because I’m going to look around out back myself, then I’m camping here tonight. Got an extra blanket?”

  He watched her struggle before she answered, and he guessed she was struggling with herself.

  “Kind of an overreaction?” she said finally.

  “I don’t think so.” Unfortunately, he figured he was going to have to tell her about George before long. Problem was, how much did it mean that one convict had dropped off the radar? He was quite sure it happened all the time. The fact that he couldn’t get tabs on George’s whereabouts didn’t mean he was headed this way.

  But tonight...tonight he was feeling that a little more honesty was needed from him. She had a right to know what he knew and what he suspected. She’d already set off the red alert when Flash growled, and he was quite sure Flash hadn’t growled without a damn good reason.

  That was what was getting to him. He looked at Flash, a dog he knew intimately and had been training for a while. The dog’s growl wasn’t meaningless, and he didn’t ever want Dory to think it was, no matter what it signified.

  “Lock the front door,” he said finally. “I’m going to get my flashlight and look around.”

  “But the other police already did that.”

  “I’m sure they did.” He pulled up one corner of his mouth in a half smile. “I’m also sure they did a good job. They’re all fine officers. This is for me, okay?”

  He guessed she got it, because she nodded and locked the front door behind him when he went out to his car. For now he didn’t pull it into her driveway, just got his flashlight and other gear.

  Because something had disturbed Flash.

  * * *

  FLASH HADN’T BEEN the only one disturbed by something out back. Dory still felt the way the night had seemed like an almost physical wall when she’d tried to walk him. How she froze on the threshold and couldn’t move.

  She wondered if Flash had been reacting to her and her swift change of mood. Maybe her apprehension had leaped to him. He seemed amazingly sensitive to her moods.

  She looked at him now as she sat on the couch waiting, and he wagged his tail lazily, just once. He appeared relaxed.

  “Maybe I imagined it,” she said to him. “It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever felt. I wish you could tell me why you growled.”

  But he couldn’t talk to her, although his gaze never wandered from her and his ears were at attention, twitching this way and that as if he were gauging every sound. Probably even sounds she couldn’t hear. How could he look so relaxed yet still be so alert?

  “You spooked me as much as that crazy feeling,” she told him. He didn’t seem the least abashed.

  She sighed and leaned back on the sofa. Okay, so something had troubled him, too, but it probably wasn’t that weird feeling she’d had. Cadell might believe he wouldn’t react that way to another dog or a cat, but what about a coyote? They probably came into town sometimes. Or even a rabbit or snake.

  As for her, she’d probably smelled something. A faint odor she’d noticed only subconsciously. Something that put her off. A whiff on the breeze. Maybe Flash had smelled the same thing.

  Regardless, she was fairly certain that Cadell wasn’t going to find anything amiss any more than the earlier cops had. She wondered if she were losing her marbles at last, then realized the dog had backed up her experience.

  Okay, she wasn’t crazy. So what the hell had happened?

  A car pulled into her driveway, and Flash stood. Apparently he didn’t need to be told to guard constantly. Except when he was chasing his ball or playing tug with her, he seemed to be on duty all the time. Quietly, but always alert for trouble.

  Which, she guessed, was probably why people had taken up with dogs in the first place.

  The knock on her front door brought her to her feet. She twitched the curtain back a bit and saw Cadell, so she unlocked the door and opened it.

  He stepped inside, his big flashlight still in hand. He just shook his head as he closed the door behind him and locked it.

  “Nothing?” she asked.

  “Nothing anyone needs to worry about.” He looked at Flash. “I’d be happier if I knew what made him growl, though.”

  She hesitated, fearful of the response she might get. For so long after her parents had been killed, people had regarded her with pity and had openly talked about how she wasn’t right and might never be right again. Even at that age, they were talking about her mind. Her mental state. Unfortunately that had lingered with her as another fear, making her distrust herself.

  “Let’s go get something to drink,” she said. “Maybe leftovers if you’re hungry. If you plan to spend the night, I may do some talking.”

  She was surprised to see the warm smile spread over his face. “I’d like to listen.”

  As simple as that. She just wondered if she’d have the guts to speak.

  * * *

  THANK GOODNESS FOR MICROWAVES, Dory thought as she began reheating the leftovers from the dinner he’d brought. She’d probably have starved without one as often as she forgot to prepare a meal for herself. Sometimes weeks went by while she lived on raw veggies and frozen egg rolls. Some diet. Maybe Betty was right to be concerned about her.

  Cadell put the remains of the two salads together on the inside top of a foam container. It could have been embarrassing to expose how little she actually had—a couple of plates, a few mugs, two glasses, cheap flatware—but Cadell didn’t seem the least disturbed.

  Maybe he’d roughed it when he was younger, she thought. But she had no excuse for this except disinterest. She made enough money, she had plenty socked away...she didn’t have to live like someone who was just starting out. But she really didn’t care most of the time. She wanted only what she truly needed.

  Her extravagance, and it was a big one, was technology. Yes, she needed most of it for work, but not all of it. Some of it was purely for fun, or to satisfy her interest in the technology. Which, she supposed, made her a geek or nerd or whatever the current name was.

  They sat at the table, and Dory started out by avoiding the things she’d been thinking about. Her usual style. Even she recognized her misdirection for what it was. Cadell probably did, too. He’d certainly proved to be very savvy so far.

  “So how are the ostriches doing?” she asked.

  “They’re fine. I’m beginning to think they’re indestructible.”

  She glanced up from her plate, forgetting that she was almost afraid to look at him because of the strong response he evoked in her. Longings, feminine longings buried for most of her life, stirred around him with increasing pressure. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Because they’re an exotic species I know next to nothing about. Sure, the vet gave me some instructions, but they’re even out of the usual for him. It’s amazing that my ignorance doesn’t seemed to have harmed them any.”

  “So they’re tough.”

  “Like you.”

  The words caught her between one breath and the next, and for a few seconds she simply could not inhale. Tough? “I’m not tough,” she insisted when she could find her voice. “I’m a wimp. I’m so scared you and Betty decided I needed a guard dog so I could sleep at night. And there’s probably no good reason for me to feel this way.”

  He stabbed his fork into a cherry tomato but didn’t say a word. Giving her time to find her own way, pressuring her not at all. His hands looked so powerful, like all the rest of him. She hated to imagine what he must really think of her. He was a kind enough person to try to help her out, but he probably figured her for a nut. And maybe she was.

  Taking what was left of her courage in her hands, she blurted, “It wasn’t only Flash’s growl.”

  His head snapped up, his dark gaze fixing on her with total attention. “What do you mean?”

 
“It’s crazy.”

  “Everything about this, all the way back to the murder of your parents, is crazy. I’m not dismissing anything. What happened?”

  “Me,” she admitted. “I may be the reason Flash growled. I mean...” God, how could she explain this? Words didn’t seem to fit it right. “I couldn’t make myself go out that door. I was taking Flash out to do his business, maybe run around the backyard a bit, and I froze. It was like...like...” The words at last forced themselves past her resistance, past the tightness in her throat. “Like the night turned solid. Into a wall. I couldn’t move.”

  His gaze narrowed slightly. “Did you hear something? See something?”

  “Not that I was aware of. It was just as if this force held me back. Then before I could fight it or push past it, Flash growled. I turned tail and called the police. But maybe he growled because of me. Maybe my crazy fear reached him.”

  She swallowed hard. There, she’d said it. If he suggested a butterfly net, she wouldn’t blame him. She studied her plate, unwilling to read his reaction in his face.

  “Has the night scared you before?” he asked calmly.

  “Occasionally. Sometimes it seems threatening, but not all the time. Because running out into the night was what saved me back then. It’s not like the night itself was ever a source of my terror. At least not enough to worry me or anyone else.”

  He pushed the salad aside and reached for his drink. “The night frightens lots of people. Understandably. We’re vulnerable then. Atavistic response that probably goes back to our cave days, if not earlier. As a species, we’re not night dwellers.”

  “You make it sound so ordinary,” she protested. She didn’t feel what had happened at the door was ordinary. As a measure of her mental state, it was probably a big red flag.

  “I’m just saying that all by itself, fear of the dark is common, and it can become very strong sometimes. We might not even realize what triggers it. But it’s not crazy.”

  “Maybe not,” she answered, hearing the flatness of her own voice. She wondered why she was fighting his kindness. Did she want someone to tell her she was nuts?

  “When you were really little, did you ever wonder if there might be something under your bed?”

  She sighed, thinking it wasn’t the same thing at all. “Of course.”

  “I’m pretty sure there was something under my bed.”

  His choice of words startled her. “You still think that?”

  He smiled faintly, and she glimpsed it when she darted a quick look his way. “Not anymore. But for a long time, I jumped out of my bed. Far enough away that nothing could grab me. Now, just because there wasn’t anything there in the daylight doesn’t mean there wasn’t in the dark. Reason doesn’t work on that one, because we’re programmed to have a sensible fear of the night.”

  “But this was different!” she protested.

  “I believe you.” He sighed and shook his head. “I guess I’m not being clear. I used to jump out of my bed so nothing could grab me. Nothing on earth could have convinced me to put my foot on the floor right beside my bed. It was real. What you felt when you tried to go out the back door was real. I don’t know what triggered it, but something did, since this isn’t common for you. Maybe it’s being in a new place. Maybe it’s knowing George is out there free now. I can’t tell you, but I believe you and what you felt.”

  She swallowed again, then reached for her soda to wet her dry mouth. Her tongue and lips kept sticking. Then she came back to the important question. “Could my fear have made Flash growl?”

  “It’s possible. Not likely, but possible. Sensing your fear should have put him on high alert, and he should have remained quiet. No, something else bothered him, but it’s anyone’s guess.”

  She faced the grim possibility yet again. “So something out there disturbed us both.”

  “Evidently.” He rose and began to gather up the remains of the meal. “Do you want to save any of this?”

  It had been pretty well picked over. She shook her head and watched him cross the small kitchen to her wastebasket as he dumped in everything that was left. Then he rinsed their plates and flatware she had brought out for the leftovers, placing them beside the sink.

  Drying his hands on the towel she kept hanging from the oven door handle, he leaned back against the small counter. “I’d suggest you move your equipment to my place, but that would only isolate you more if something worries you. I can hardly say you won’t be alone there, can I? But I can put my bedroll here and be around when I’m not on duty. There are always the neighbors to help out here.”

  She knew the offer was meant kindly, but she stiffened anyway. “I’ve been living on my own since college.”

  “I’m sure. But George was in prison then. Things have changed a bit. I wish there was some way I could assure you that he’s on his way to Brazil or some desert island, but I can’t. So you’re going to be worrying for a while.”

  “But it’s so stupid!” she said vehemently. “Stupid! There’s no reason for him to look for me. I know that. All these years he never tried to get in touch with me. Not even a letter from prison. Why would that change now? My fears are irrational. Even I know that.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He tossed the towel on the counter, then pulled his chair around the table so he could sit closer and take her hand. His grip was gentle, holding hers on his denim-clad thigh. “You saw your brother in the midst of an act so heinous that most people can’t even adequately imagine it. You found the monster—it wasn’t under your bed, and it wasn’t your imagination. Why wouldn’t you be frightened of him? You know what he’s capable of.”

  She shook her head a little, although she wasn’t disagreeing. His grip felt so reassuring, like a warm, strong lifeline. She’d like to bury herself in that grip.

  “Then top it off with finding your whereabouts on your company’s website today... That was hardly reassuring.”

  It was true. Seeing that had not only infuriated her, but it had frightened her. She’d come here to hide from George, not to have him directed practically to her doorstep. “Maybe I should leave. It’s probably too easy to find someone around here.”

  But as soon as the words escaped her, she felt craven. Run? Again? She’d run once, but she still had as many fears, as many nightmares. She couldn’t run from herself. She needed to face down the monster that had been pursuing her in her dreams for a quarter century.

  Cadell hadn’t spoken a word, but she squeezed his hand tightly and hung on. “I’m not running again. It won’t do a damn bit of good. I’m carrying my brother around inside me. No escape.”

  “I don’t have any idea how you get that monkey off your back,” he said. Gently, he squeezed her hand in return. “But I agree about not running again. And we may be a small town and a sparsely populated county, but people notice strangers. People have noticed your arrival, but it was clear you’re a friend of Betty’s. He wouldn’t have that going for him if he shows up here.”

  She looked at him, sinking into his dark eyes. They offered something warm and reassuring, welcoming. He made her feel as if he cared about her. Which she guessed he did, since he’d been talking about spreading his bedroll here indefinitely. “If you stay here, won’t that cause talk?”

  “Nothing that worries me. If it worries you...”

  She quickly shook her head. “No. I was actually thinking about you, not myself for a change.”

  That made his eyes dance a bit. “Just keep your dog in line, lady. I really think he’d have gone for me earlier if you had resisted me holding you in any way.”

  She blinked, surprised. “But you trained him!”

  “Which may be the only reason he didn’t spring. He was certainly thinking about it.” He nodded toward Flash, who appeared to be snoozing across the kitchen doorway. “He knows h
e’s yours now. Pretty happy about it, too, from what I see.”

  Then he turned back toward her and astonished her into complete stillness by leaning into her and brushing a kiss on her lips. “More where that came from, if you ever want it,” he murmured as he pulled back.

  The maelstrom that had been whipping her about was nothing compared to what he unleashed in her with that butterfly touch of his lips. All her life, because she couldn’t trust, she’d refused to let anyone get close to her. When an attraction began to grow in her, she had squelched it mercilessly.

  “Cadell,” she breathed. God, she wanted more, a whole lot more.

  He shook his head slowly. “Not now. Not when you’ve been feeling like a punching bag. Besides, I want you to be sure it’s what you really want. I don’t think you know right now.”

  She could have felt rejected, but she didn’t. Much as she wished it otherwise, he was taking care of her yet again. Remembering what he’d said about his marriage, she guessed he had some trust issues, too. What a pair.

  He thought waiting was better. Given her current state of mind, she couldn’t disagree. She really did feel all mixed up inside. Strong as her desire for him seemed to be, she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just part of the tangled mess she’d become since she’d heard that George was going to be released.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” she said, feeling spunky for the first time since she’d seen the website and read the riot act to her fellow team members.

  He smiled. “I’m counting on it.”

  * * *

  SHE DID HAVE an extra pillow and a couple of blankets, and she gave them to Cadell, although she couldn’t imagine how he would sleep comfortably even on the rag rug on the living room floor. He seemed dubious about using the couch, and she didn’t blame him. Every time she sat on it she was aware of how it creaked.

  “You know,” she said, “I’m going to stay up and work tonight. You could use my bed.”

  “Nope. I’ll be just fine, and you might actually want to sleep at some point.”

  She should have been exhausted after the emotional turmoil of this day, but she felt keyed up, almost antsy. Maybe she wasn’t really sure the monster hadn’t been in her backyard. Although he couldn’t possibly have gotten here this soon, could he?