Conard County Marine Page 13

  The burn deep within him that seldom quit anymore grew stronger. Infuriated, he looked down at the ground and found a pebble.

  When he straightened, he watched Kylie laugh up into that guy’s face.

  Fury gripped him. Without another thought, he threw that pebble against the side of the house. At once the Coop guy froze.

  Good.

  But then he stood up to walk around. Todd shrank back into the shadows and hid behind a bush a few houses down.

  Maybe he’d add Coop to the list he wanted to take care of. But no, Kylie first.

  He’d been waiting a long time to teach her a lesson.

  *

  Coop had been seriously uneasy since the news about the black rose. Not that he’d been totally sanguine about Kylie’s fears before, but that rose... She was being stalked.

  And while he might put on a casual face to keep her calm about all of this, it remained that he was on high alert, and wasn’t about to relax it.

  He heard something hit the side of the house. Maybe nothing. He hated those sheers on the living room window and was going to have to do something about them. It was like living in a cloudy fishbowl.

  As he left Kylie to walk around the house, he knew the sound had come from outside. But first he was going to make sure every single door and window was properly secured. Then he could walk the perimeter outdoors.

  Once he was certain they were buttoned up, he returned to the living room. Kylie had paled again, her hazel eyes too big for her face. “Everything’s locked up tighter than a drum,” he assured her. “No one is inside.”

  She managed a jerky nod.

  “Now I need to check the outside.”

  At once he saw terror pass over her face. She croaked his name.

  He squatted in front of her. “I’m going to go out there and you’re going to lock the door behind me. Can you do that?”

  Another nod as she gnawed her lip.

  “And if there’s any way to cover the front window of this place, find it. Those sheers don’t give enough privacy. Can you work on that?”

  Again she nodded.

  Then he took her hands and gave them a quick squeeze. “Come with me. Lock the door behind me.”

  God, he hated to do this to her, but he had to check outside. If there was a lurker, he might have left some sign of his presence. He’d be derelict if he failed to look.

  “I won’t be long,” he promised before he stepped out the door. He heard the dead bolt thud home as she locked up.

  The night was quiet, only the usual sounds of cars on other streets, an open window that released the sounds of someone’s TV. Nobody walking about.

  But someone was watching. That preternatural instinct warned him. He wanted to search the whole street, but figured if the guy saw him coming he’d just pull away farther. So for now, just around this house and yard.

  His skin crawled with awareness of the eyes on him. The stalker was nearby. The sound? He didn’t know what that had been, but it had sounded as if it had hit the front of the house. The siding. Maybe he could find out what it was.

  But first he had to make sure no one was hiding in the yard anywhere. He scanned the front near the house, then started around the corner. Immediately the sense of being watched disappeared.

  Well, that gave him a direction for the stalker, but he didn’t dare risk there being some kind of threat out here. A bomb, a booby trap, something. He scanned carefully, moving as quickly as he could, determined to get back to the front of the house and see if he could localize whoever was watching.

  He saw nothing on the ground, now slightly damp with dew, that betrayed the passage of anything except a dog. The animal’s paw prints appeared dark where they had wiped away the dew. Around to the far side, approach the street but not too quickly. And unfortunately, the dew hadn’t fallen nearer to the warmer street. None in the front yard or on the pavement.

  He felt just an instant, one instant, of those eyes on him again, and then they vanished. Someone had been watching the front of the house, but now had turned away. Possibly meaningless, but he wasn’t going to trust in that.

  As he reached the porch, he paused. Was that a pebble?

  He searched his memory rapidly and couldn’t remember anything like that on the porch. Glenda swept it every time she cleaned. Hell, he’d swept it for her just a couple of days ago because of some leaves leftover from autumn.

  So the pebble was probably what had hit the house. No accident. He looked toward the sidewalk. The watching eyes were still gone, but he could easily imagine a man standing out there watching.

  Slowly he approached the sidewalk and turned to face the house. Entirely too much was visible through those sheers. Like watching a fuzzy TV. Glancing down he could see the grass had been partially flattened. No dew to suggest a direction to look.

  Hating it, but knowing there was no more he could do tonight without leaving Kylie alone, he climbed the porch steps, leaving the pebble in place and knocked. “Kylie, it’s me.”

  The door opened swiftly and he stepped inside. God, she looked rattled. As soon as the door was closed behind him and once again locked, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly as if he could squeeze the fear from her.

  What he would have liked to have done was wring someone’s throat.

  But instead he held this lovely, frightened woman and wished he could make her feel safe again. Whoever had sent that rose was cruel beyond belief. Taunting his victim, terrifying her, keeping the nightmare alive.

  Yeah, he could have strangled the guy with his bare hands.

  He stroked Kylie’s hair, feeling a shudder run through her as he held her. “It’s okay,” he said.

  “Nobody?”

  “Not now, anyway. We have to deal with that front window, though. Anybody walking by can see in. Did you think about that?”

  Lame way to try to pull her back from the precipice of her fears, but sometimes thinking about a problem could be the only way.

  “Yeah. There are heavy curtains for the winter. The rod is still up. We just need to hang them.”

  “Then as soon as you feel ready, we’re going to do exactly that.”

  Then she amazed him. She seemed to shake herself a little, and leaned back within his embrace. “I’m sorry. I didn’t use to be such a wimp. And I’m not going to be a wimp now. I think I know where Glenda keeps the curtains.”

  She was dealing with the immediate problem, an excellent sign. He followed her down the hallway to the linen closet and held out his arms to receive the heavy folded curtains she passed to him.

  “They’ll have creases in them,” she remarked.

  “I don’t care as long as they shutter the fishbowl.”

  She paused as she pulled out the last stack. “Is that what it feels like to you?”

  “Right now it does.”

  Her movements slowed just a bit. “I never really thought about it.”

  “No reason you should have. These streets are usually safe for you, aren’t they?”

  “They used to be.”

  He thought that acknowledgment sounded terribly sad, and he made up his mind he was going to make those streets safe for her again.

  As he carried the armload of curtains out to the living room, she asked, “Should we call the police?”

  “They wouldn’t find any more than I did, and it wasn’t much. Someone threw a pebble against the side of the house. I couldn’t track him. He’s probably long gone by now.”

  “Throwing a pebble seems like a childish thing to do.”

  He agreed, but he wasn’t going to tell her the other interpretations he could put on it. Such as that the guy had seen her laughing and had been angry, striking out in the only way he could when she wasn’t alone. Childish or not, he’d had the sense to stay on the sidewalk, out of the grass that might have made him trackable. Definitely not an idiot.

  He helped her unfold the heavyweight blue curtains. Fortunately, they had ring hooks that
clamped around the rod, and while she held the bottom to take most of the weight off, he strung all the panels. An easy job, and fifteen minutes later, after a little arranging, the living room was no longer visible from the street.

  His arms had tightened a little after being over his head too long, but it didn’t take much effort to shake them out.

  “That’s not going to make Glenda happy,” Kylie remarked as she stood back and surveyed their work.

  “Why not?”

  “Because she loves it when it gets warm enough to take them down and let the light in.”

  He slipped his arm around her shoulders, loving the way she melted into his side. “I think Glenda will understand.”

  “I’m sure.” Kylie sighed and retreated to the sofa. “I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner. It was bad enough when I was just afraid and couldn’t remember so much of my life, but now I feel trapped in a cage.”

  Well, he couldn’t deny that she was. Out there on those once-safe streets was a killer who still wanted her. That was certainly one definition of prison. Covering the windows, staying with her every second as a guard...that was another definition.

  He paced for a while, wondering how he could ease her mind even a little. In some ways, she was a lot like the young guys he took into their first truly dangerous situations, but in her case she didn’t have any training to prepare her or stand by her in the clutch.

  God, she must feel at sea with a big hole in her memory and a shadowy figure stalking her. He wouldn’t blame her if she freaked out.

  But she hadn’t yet. Somehow she always found the internal strength and resilience to take each new blow. He admired the hell out of her.

  But all this stress was clearly exhausting her, and sleeping on the couch night after night couldn’t be truly restful for her.

  “Kylie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why don’t you go to bed? Your real bed. You need some decent sleep.”

  For an instant her face froze, and her eyes darted as if expecting something to leap at her from almost any direction. Then she visibly shook herself. She’d slept alone before, after all. Reaching for her independence. But it had been her idea then. “You must be awfully tired of me.”

  “I’m not tired of you at all!” His protest was vehement. “Whatever gave you that idea? That I think you need a good night’s sleep? I know it isn’t easy with all that’s going on. I’ll be right there, I swear. And you don’t have to worry about me dozing off because I’ve trained myself to wake at the slightest sound. Survival. So just go get ready for bed.”

  “Really? You can wake?”

  “My ears are better than any alarm clock. I put cats to shame, okay?”

  That at least brought a small smile to her face. “Cats, huh?”

  “Believe it. Now go get ready for bed. I’ll tuck you in, if you want.”

  He watched her climb the stairs, feeling his insides swelling with emotions he didn’t want to deal with right then. He could afford only one thing: watching that woman and keeping her safe. Afterward...well, afterward might be a long time away.

  *

  So he could get Cooper away from the woman. Todd headed back to the old car, thinking about that chink. Cooper had been outside for nearly ten minutes looking for whoever had thrown that pebble. That meant that given a proper excuse, he could separate the two of them.

  He just had to think of a way. And he would. Of that he was very certain.

  Chapter 8

  Kylie washed up, changed into a fresh cotton nightshirt and climbed beneath the sheets. She had to admit Coop was right about going to bed. It felt a whole lot more comfortable than the couch. She had a feeling she might indeed sleep better, as long as he was there. As she’d discovered the one night she’d tried this alone, she still woke with panic attacks. But that hadn’t happened once when he was there.

  She could do this, but not alone.

  “Coop?”

  A minute later he appeared in the doorway. “Now that’s a nice sight, you in a real bed.” He smiled.

  “Stay with me?”

  He hesitated, eyeing the rocker in one corner, then seemed to shake himself.

  “Sure,” he said.

  She was so relieved when he chose to lie down beside her on top of the covers. Fully clothed, still wearing his boots, but right beside her, big, strong, warm and safe.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Just behave.”

  She surprised herself by emitting a small giggle. “No marines caught with their drawers down, huh?”

  “Never.” Then he rolled onto his side. The only light in the room came from the lamp on the end table behind him, leaving him in shadows as he propped his head in one hand. “Now, it could be that I’d like nothing better. In fact, I’m quite sure I’d love to make love to you until exhaustion overwhelmed us. But you don’t need me to explain why the timing stinks.”

  “Not after the rose,” she admitted. She hated it, though. She hated it that some sick man had destroyed her life once and was trying to destroy it again. “You know, Coop, I’ve devoted my life to helping people, to saving lives. But right now I think I’m capable of murder. Hasn’t he stolen enough from me?”

  He sighed. “Not by his lights evidently.” He reached out his other hand and brushed her hair back from her face before cupping her cheek. “We’ll get through this, Kylie. I’ll keep you safe and we’ll get this guy.”

  “Nobody can promise that.”

  “I’m not nobody, okay?”

  She believed him. He’d been to war, he’d led men into battle...she couldn’t have asked for a better protector. But even marines failed sometimes. There were enough of them in Arlington National Cemetery to prove it.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, wishing she could have so much more. “Promise me,” she said.

  “What?”

  “That when this is over we’ll make love. Wild, wonderful love.”

  “Oh, hey, lady, I can promise that for certain. You drive me to the edge. I can’t look at you without wanting you. We will have our day. Maybe lots of days, okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  She felt his lips touch her forehead lightly and he whispered back, “You can’t imagine the ways I want to love you. I want to know every square inch of you. I want to make you so hot you glow.”

  A shiver ran through her, one of pure delight, and in an instant she flamed with desire. “You’re killing me,” she murmured.

  “Sorry. I’ll keep the sexy talk for another time.”

  “Yeah, before you find out that nurses can go on the attack, too.”

  A soft laugh escaped him. “I’m looking forward to that. Now sleep, darlin’. Please sleep.”

  So she closed her eyes, hoping her fluttering nerves would settle enough to let her. His gentle stroking of her hair was soothing, and finally she felt sleep creeping up on her. Wonderful, soothing sleep.

  Then in her mind something flashed and she sat bolt upright, a scream escaping her.

  *

  Coop hit instant readiness, leaping from the bed fully alert. Nothing had changed; he was sure he hadn’t dozed, and not a single unusual sound had broken the quiet of the night.

  But there was Kylie sitting bolt upright, staring at something only she could see. Part of him wanted to pull the knife he kept tucked in his boot, but his training warned him against it. Nothing had actually happened, so why scare Kylie?

  But something had scared her and he had the definite feeling it had happened inside her.

  Afraid of disturbing her when she was caught in some terror, probably a form of the PTSD he knew all too well, he remained standing by the bed.

  “Kylie,” he said gently. When she didn’t respond he made his voice a bit sharper. “Kylie! Do you hear me?”

  After what seemed forever, she turned her head a bit and croaked, “I remembered something.”

  He gathered it wasn’t a good memory. “Tell me?”<
br />
  “A knife,” she murmured. “A knife. It flashed as it came down on me. I can feel the blow...”

  Thank God he hadn’t pulled out his own knife. Under these circumstances the fallout from that could have been thermonuclear. “Can I sit beside you?”

  “Yes.” Barely audible.

  He eased down beside her, trying not to startle her in the least little way. “Did you see anything else?”

  “Just the knife.” Then she turned into him, burying her face in his shoulder as if she wanted to crawl inside of him.

  He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her as tightly as he dared. “I’m here. That was just a memory. Come back to me, Kylie. Please.”

  She came back, all right. The sobs racked her entire body and her tears soaked his shirt. Gently he rocked her, trying to soothe her. Of all the things to remember, he thought bitterly. Not a useful face, just the flash of the knife that had tormented her. The memory of pain.

  “I’m sorry,” she hiccuped a few minutes later.

  “No need,” he said sincerely. “I know what it’s like. Cry it out, Kylie.”

  “Do you cry?”

  “I get angry.”

  She sniffled and another wave of sobs ripped through her. “I’d rather be angry.”

  He was certain she’d get there eventually. How could she not? She hadn’t been exaggerating in the least when she said this guy had stolen everything from her. Her future, her sense of security, her memory. That was a helluva list, and didn’t even begin to address the physical suffering she had endured. He honestly hoped she remembered no more of it. The guy’s face would be the only useful thing to remember about that attack.

  The rest of her memory...that would be a good thing to get back, but he’d bet at this point she’d always wonder what was still missing and whether she could trust herself.

  Another terrible thing to do to someone. Sure, memory was flexible and was always being rewritten, but to lose it all and then face having to trust it as it came back in dribs and drabs? He doubted she’d even be able to pick up her schooling where she’d been forced to leave off simply because she’d never be certain of her knowledge.